Sins of the Flesh (Exposed Series Book 1)

by Kelly, Hazel

  “Of course,” my Dad said. “One less report to write up tonight though, right?”

  I don’t know how my Dad knew the policeman. He must’ve done his fencing. You’d think my Dad’s company built every fucking fence in the state for how many people he knew. It was about time his connections worked in my favor.

  When my Dad finally sat in the driver’s seat, he didn’t start the car. But he didn’t look at me either.

  “Say something, Dad,” I said. “Please. I can tell you’re bursting to say something.”

  “Jesus.” He shook his head. “Can you even hear yourself? How many drinks did you have tonight?”

  I looked at him as apologetically as I could and shrugged in time with a hiccup. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “Do you know how lucky you are? If this got back to your school…”

  “I know. I know.”

  “I’m so sick of this shit, Kate.” He sighed but kept his eyes forward. “You know what your Mom told me?”

  I swallowed and shook my head.

  “She said you told her you were going to a birthday party at Julie’s, that the Clarks would be home, and that you were going to sleep over at Danielle’s house.”

  “That last part is true.”

  “Well one out of three is nothing to celebrate, is it?” he said. “You think you’re Mom’s going to focus on that part?”

  “No.”

  “So why did you tell such a blatant lie?”

  “What was I supposed to do? Say Trey’s parents were out so we were all going to drink at his house?”

  My Dad let his head fall against his headrest and closed his eyes.

  “She’d never let me go anywhere if I told the truth! I’m not even supposed to drive South of Lake Street. Even if Trey’s parents had been home I wouldn’t have been allowed to come!”

  He sat up and looked at me. “Oh my God. You drove here, didn’t you? And got this drunk.” He looked away disgusted and turned on the ignition. “Unbelievable.”

  “I didn’t drink until I was parked for the night,” I said. Which was almost true. “And I wasn’t going to drive again after we got here. Danielle and I were going to walk back to her house later.”

  “Oh right. That was a good plan. I feel so much better about your ability to make good decisions.” He drove slowly with both hands clenching the wheel. “And how were you going to get your car in the morning?”

  “Danielle was going to drop me off. We had it all worked out!”

  “Clearly.”

  “C’mon. I know it’s stupid that I got caught, but I wasn’t doing anything crazy. I was just being a normal kid.”

  “Normal kids don’t get this drunk.”

  “Yes they do!” I said. “Everyone I know drinks, and their parents just look the other way as long as they’re safe about it.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that when you start sentences with the words everyone or no one, it’s impossible for me to believe anything that comes next?”

  “Do you know what happens to kids who don’t drink in high school, Dad? They go to college and drink so much it kills them! Cause they’ve never tested their limits in a controlled environment with people they trust!”

  “First of all, that’s ridiculous. Second of all, there was nothing safe and controlled about that environment.”

  I looked out the window and sighed. I was in no condition to argue. And even if I had been, I didn’t think this was an argument I could win.

  “Thanks for picking me up, Dad.”

  He didn’t say you’re welcome. So we drove the rest of the way in silence, the fuzzy street lights leading us home.

  If only I hadn’t been in the closet with Ian. I would’ve gotten away.

  And Danielle and I would’ve gone back to her house, made a frozen pizza, and watched Zoolander in her basement until we fell asleep.

  What a different end to the night that would’ve been...

  It was after two when we pulled in the driveway. I was glad I hadn’t passed out on the ride home. My Dad had done enough. I doubted he would’ve appreciated having to shake me from a drunken stupor.

  “Is Mom up?” I asked as the garage door opened.

  “Yeah, she’s up,” he said, sounding about as thrilled as I was.

  I followed my Dad into the house. My Mom was in her robe at the kitchen table. She had thick eye cream spread under her dark, angry eyes.

  I stood at a distance and waited for my verbal lashing. Most of the time, I wished she would just smack me. At least that kind of pain would fade. Instead, her attacks were always verbal, and her words bounced around in my head forever.

  She had called me a bitch three times in my life so far. I only cried the first time, but she cried every time. Which made me feel a little sick because she must have really meant it.

  She stood up and folded her arms. “I heard the birthday party got a little out of hand?”

  My Dad disappeared from the room, terrified that he might be dragged into one of our fights. Or maybe he was just terrified of my Mom’s horrific evening look. It couldn’t be good for their marriage for him to see her like that under the bright kitchen lights.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you, Mom.”

  “You’re sorry you got caught.”

  “That, too.”

  “Well, you’ll have lots of time to think about how sorry you are,” she said. “You’re grounded.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “What choice have you left me, Kate? You took the car out and got trashed.”

  “But I really was going to sleep at Danielle’s. I wasn’t going to drink and drive!”

  “How can you expect me to believe anything you say anymore? The only thing I know for sure is that you’re a danger to yourself and others.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a danger to anyone, Mom.”

  “Not when you’re grounded you’re not.”

  “For how long?!”

  “Until further notice. Maybe until Christmas. Maybe just until after homecoming. I haven’t decided.”

  I stared at her and felt my neck get hot. It was like she knew. Was she seriously out to ruin my life? My only hope was to act like missing homecoming wouldn’t be the worst thing that could possibly happen to me. Otherwise, she might become obsessed by the idea and do something rash.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “Me too, Kate.”

  And then she did the last thing I was expecting her to do. She went to the kitchen sink, filled up a glass of water, and brought it to me.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, honey,” she said, handing it to me. “Now take your drunk ass to bed.”

  Chapter 8: Dawn

  I waved to Tina when she walked into the café and watched her weave through the tables towards me. As soon as she was within reach, I stood up and gave her a big hug.

  “Please tell me you already ordered,” she said, taking a seat in our usual corner booth. “I’m starving.”

  “Coming from yoga?” I asked, though her pants gave her away.

  “Yeah,” she said, smoothing auburn wisps of hair back against her head. “I’ve been doing the hot one. It’s ridiculous. Do I look as gross as I feel? I didn’t have time to shower.”

  “No. You look fine,” I said. But she looked better than fine. She always did. In fact, the only thing prettier than Tina on an average day was Tina with a post workout glow.

  “Well?” she said. ”Did you?”

  “Yeah, I ordered.” I crossed my legs. “Two chopped salads and a turkey blt to share.”

  “You are the best.”

  I shrugged. “So how was your trip?”

  “Fantastic.”

  “Oh good.”

  “Which reminds me.” She reached into her oversized bag. “I got you a present.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know,” she said, “which made it so much more fun.” She placed two gift wrapped boxes on the table in fron
t of me.

  I instantly recognized the brown and turquoise wrapping on the bigger one. “Please tell me this is what I think it is.”

  A bright smile parted her plump lips. “As if I would go all the way to France and not bring you back your favorite chocolates.”

  Tina and I backpacked all over Western Europe when we were in college. We sampled the food, the culture, and the men, having one glorious adventure after another. Of course, that was long before she met Ed and became a responsible adult.

  I sighed. “The only thing better than chocolate is chocolate that tastes like happy memories.”

  “The happiest.”

  “Well that’s my weekend sorted.” I put the box of chocolates to the side. “And what’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  I slipped the ribbon off and tore the paper, revealing a branded golden box that I recognized but couldn’t place. “Fragonard?”

  “Remember?” Tina leaned forward.

  “Remind me?”

  “The perfumery? We went on a tour there one weekend?”

  “Ahhh. Yes.”

  “Well go on.”

  I lifted the lid. Inside there was a tuft of fresh lavender laying over a bottle of perfume. I held the lavender up to my nose and closed my eyes. It smelled like pure tranquility.

  “Read the description,” Tina said, jolting me from my reverie.

  “Sorenza,” I read off the pretty pink tag. “Inspired by a wild flower scented breeze as vivacious and ardent as the Provençal sun… Wow.”

  “I know how you used to love your perfumes.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Back when I thought of myself as a lover and a muse.

  “And don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t like how you smell. You know I love the smell of soap and cigarettes as much as the next person.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  She smiled. “I just thought you might want to mix it up.”

  “Thanks, Tina.” I lifted the cap off the perfume and sniffed it before spritzing a little on my wrist and rubbing it on the side of my neck. “Who wouldn’t want to smell as vivacious as the Provençal sun?”

  “They’re only trinkets. I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you while I was away.”

  “Well, I appreciate it.”

  “And Ed was really impressed by my French thanks to you giving me that refresher course.”

  “Don’t mention it. I’m glad I could help,” I said. I picked the boxes up off the table and put them in my purse so the waiter could put our food down.

  “When was the last time you got away, Dawn?” Tina asked.

  “Phoenix. Two years ago.”

  “For that conference?”

  I nodded.

  “Well that was hardly a vacation.”

  “Maybe we could get away together sometime soon?”

  Tina crinkled her nose.

  “Ed still thinks I’m a bad influence, doesn’t he?”

  She stuffed a forkful of lettuce in her mouth.

  “C’mon, Tina. Tell me he’s not still sore about Vegas?”

  She shrugged.

  “That’s so unfair. Just cause you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, I can’t get a weekend away with my best friend anymore?”

  “Well maybe you shouldn’t have taken me to that place and given me all those singles!”

  “I thought you’d keep your hands to yourself like a normal person!”

  “Well you shouldn’t have taken pictures on my phone!”

  “And you shouldn’t have told Ed we were going to San Francisco!”

  Her whole face scrunched up.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “You’re right,” she said. “It’s my fault. We’ll do something soon. I promise.”

  “It’s going to have to be really soon.”

  “Well, I’ll see what I can do, but I just got back from France. I can’t just take off right away again.”

  I looked around the restaurant. It was starting to fill up for the lunch rush, but no one was near enough to eavesdrop on us.

  “Tina.” I looked at her and put down my half of our sandwich. “I have to tell you something.”

  “What?” She furrowed her brow and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “What is it?”

  “Promise me you won’t freak out.”

  “Well that depends on what it is.”

  I exhaled.

  “Okay, I promise. What is it?”

  “I’m sick, Tina.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I took a sip from my glass of water. “I went to the doctor a few weeks ago.”

  Her eyes were wide.

  “Because I was coughing up blood.”

  She didn’t blink. “And?”

  “I have cancer.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Where?”

  “Everywhere. But I guess it started in my lungs.”

  “Why didn’t you call me right away?”

  “Cause you were on vacation,” I said. “And there’s nothing you can do about it anyway.”

  Her eyes started to water. “There must be.”

  I shook my head.

  “Chemo? Surgery?” She pressed her wrists against the table. “Surely the doctor told you what your options were?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at the café behind me and turned back to face her. “Of course he did,” I said. “There just weren’t any good ones.”

  “Then you have to go to another doctor.” She sat straight up. “I’ll get you the name of the one Ed’s mom went to. He was great. She’s been in remission for five years.” She reached for her phone.

  “No. Tina, don’t. Not now.”

  She put her phone down on the table. “But you have to get a second opinion.”

  “I know, okay. I’ll get a second opinion. But I need you to understand that this isn’t the same. Ed’s mom had Breast Cancer. If all I had to do was get my breasts removed then that’s what I’d be telling you right now.”

  Her eyes darted back and forth between mine. She swallowed and lowered her voice. “How long do you have?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, “but it sounds like trying to slow the cancer’s growth would only destroy my quality of life. It might even make me sicker faster.”

  She pursed her lips. “Promise me you’ll get a second opinion.”

  “I promise,” I said, “and I don’t want you to worry. I almost didn’t tell you because I knew you’d worry, but… but I had to tell someone, ya know?”

  “I’m glad you did.” Her mouth forced a smile but her eyes stayed sad. “You know I would’ve killed you myself if you hadn’t told me.”

  “I know.”

  “Have you told Carol?”

  “No.”

  “Dawn, you have to tell her.”

  “I’m not sure I do.”

  “She’s your sister.” Tina’s face was stern. “You can’t not tell her.”

  “She’s got enough to worry about. Besides, it’s not like we’re going to suddenly get along just because I’m sick.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  I cocked my head. “C’mon, Tina. My body is sick. Not my head.”

  She leaned back and folded her arms.

  “Look, I know you don’t approve, but I kind of like the idea that she doesn’t know. Maybe she’ll remember me more fondly if my death is tragic and sudden.”

  “That’s fucked up.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t really mean it. I’m just not ready to tell her yet. There’s too much shit between us as it is without stirring my cancer into the pot.”

  “Dawn?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m still in denial about this right now, but your being nonchalant isn’t going to make it easier for me. Or anyone else.”

  I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I know.”

  “And I get that your job requires you to tell people that it’s all going to be okay even when it’s not.” She shook her head. “But y
ou don’t get to do that with this. It’s not okay.”

  I nodded and spoke softly. “I know.”

  “So don’t bullshit me. And just this once, grow up and don’t bullshit your sister. Seriously, Dawn. After everything you guys have been through, she has a right to know.”

  Chapter 9: Kate

  I was lying on my back, watching the wobble of the ceiling fan, and hating myself.

  There was a light layer of sweat on my forehead, and my stomach was stretched so full it felt like it was going to burst open.

  A few hours earlier, I went to see The Secret Life of Walter Mitty with Annie and Danielle. It was really cute. I loved it. Especially the joke about the Poetry Falcon. And the twist at the end.

  And it was the first time I ever understood what people see in Sean Penn. Cause he was actually pretty hot in it. For an old guy. Obviously.

  Anyway, I was really good during the movie and didn’t get any popcorn or candy because I knew it would set me off. Turns out I was only delaying the inevitable. As soon as the movie was over, the girls wanted to get some pizza.

  I started with one slice. Nothing that would kill me. Nothing I would have to feel bad about eating. If only I had stopped there. But I didn’t.

  Once I’d had two pieces the wheels were set in motion. And I had no choice but to stuff myself.

  Okay, that’s not entirely true. I know I had a choice. There was a split second somewhere along the line when I could’ve either stopped eating or had one more bite. And that one bite too many is what made me lose control.

  Then I had to binge and purge. Because it’s always all or nothing with me. I’m either hungry or I’m full. There is no middle ground.

  Unfortunately, throwing up thick hunks of mozzarella cheese is pretty hard on the throat. Cause it doesn’t break up well when you chew it. It stays chunky. That’s why I had to come home and eat all the cookies and the ice cream. Because they’re delicious going in, and they help lubricate my throat on their way out.

  Plus, since Oreos are black, they make it easy to tell when I’ve purged everything.

  I know it’s disgusting. I’m not proud that I do it. I don’t think it’s cool that I know the calories in every kind of food and what it looks like partially digested.

  I know it’s fucked up and it could kill me eventually if I don’t stop. And I know there’s much better ways I could be spending my time and energy than binging, hating myself, and purging for hours every day.