Self-Preservation
"Dad."
"Get in the truck." His voice was dangerously quiet. I'd almost rather he yelled it.
I got in, scooted to the middle, and pulled Ashley in after me. As soon as the door closed, I heard my dad inhale through this nose. My heart dropped. I instantly started feeling nauseas. He knows everything I did tonight from that breath. I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to look down at my feet. Again. I'm so screwed.
My dad walked Ashley to her door, making sure he woke her parents and informed them of where we were. Awesome. Now we're both screwed.
Dad walked back to the truck, pausing at the door. I saw him take a calming breath before opening the door and getting back in. The rest of the ride was met with uncomfortable silence. The loudest silence I've ever heard. As we drove up to our house, I felt relieved to be free from the confined space of the truck. It felt claustrophobic with all the disappointment radiating from my father.
As soon as the truck rolled to a stop, my dad slowly turned to me and said, "Go to bed." Disappointment and anger evident in his voice.
I quickly obeyed, only to be stopped by my mom right inside the front door.
I was wrapped in a quick hug, then pushed to arms length, mom's hands still on my shoulders.
"I have so many things to say, but for your sake, we'll wait until morning. I want you to remember this, so we'll wait until you sober up."
I opened my mouth to apologize, beg for forgiveness, but was cut off by a sharp command from my father, "Natalie, now."
I ran upstairs and threw myself onto my bed, burying my head in my pillow.
X
The morning greeted me with a splitting headache and sour stomach. I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I stood up with a groan, dragging myself to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and climbed in, letting the water envelope me.
I vaguely remember puking into the toilet last night. My memory was confirmed when I started washing my hair and felt dried vomit start to wash out.
Quietly, I tiptoed back to my room to lie back down. I almost fell back asleep when I heard a knock at my door.
"Yeah," I said hesitantly. I peeled my eyes open to see Jonathan, looking annoyed.
"Mom and dad want to see you downstairs," he said simply.
"That's it?" I asked before he could walk away. "That's all you're going to say to me after ratting me out to dad?"
"What?!" Jordan demanded, "ratting you out?!"
He walked through my door, getting louder as he spoke.
"I didn't rat on anyone. I went to go get you. You knew I don't have my license and you called me, because you knew I'd come to get you. I grabbed mom's car keys and went to leave the house when guess who came home right as I was walking out the door? Mom and dad. And now, I don't get to drive again for two weeks. So I hope you had fun at your party, because you drug me down with you."
I cringed as he slammed my door. I'm an asshole. I'm in trouble, Ashley's in trouble, and now Jon's in trouble. And if it wasn't for me, none of us would be.
I slowly descended the stairs, mentally preparing myself for the king of all lectures that was coming my way.
X
"What were you thinking?" The angry tone from my mom startled me out of my thoughts.
"I wasn't," came my tired reply.
My dad was quick to jump in, "No, no. That's not an acceptable answer and you know it. Explain what happened."
With eyes focused on the kitchen table, I started to recount the details of the night before.
Ashley and I snuck out of her house after her parents went to bed. I drank, a lot. The party got crazier as the night went on.
"Is that why you smelled like weed?" My dad's voice interrupted.
I closed my eyes and tried to think of the best explanation. My parents did not approve of alcohol, I can only imagine how they feel about drugs. My mom cleared her throat, prompting me to answer.
I hesitantly looked up at my parents. "Yes. There were drugs at the party. I didn't know that going in, but then I saw some kids passing pills and stuff around. I went outside to get away from it, but ended up in a group of people who were passing around a joint. At first I said no. But then the next pass, I took it.-"
"EXCUSE ME?" My mom yelled.
I could feeltheir disappointment in the air.
I looked between my parents shocked faces, "It was just one hit, I promise! It was dumb and stupid and I swear I will never ever do it again."
The room went silent. Not able to maintain eye contact, I focused my attention back on the wood grain of the table.
After what seemed like hours, my mom finally spoke, "Keep going."
I looked at my mom now, "I've said everything that happened. I got freaked out by taking the joint, so I called Jon to come get me."
Once again, silence hung in the air. I've never felt so uncomfortable, I don't know how the boys handle getting in trouble all the time.
"Look, I'm sorry. I know I messed up. It was reckless and I won't do it again."
"Won't do what again?" Came my mom's voice, "The lying? Sneaking out? Getting drunk? Doing DRUGS?"
Okay back to the table I look. "Yes. Yes all of that."
My eyes went to my dad as he spoke, "Look, Natalie. I know you have been through a lot lately, but that does not excuse your behavior. You do not go to parties with drugs and alcohol and you definitely don't partake in it!"
"I know" came my quiet reply.
"Good. And to make sure you know, you're grounded. If you're not at school, you're home."
"For how long?" I asked my dad.
"Three weeks,"
I opened my mouth to argue before being cut off by my dad, "I don't want to hear any arguments. You knew we would punish you when you went to that party and you decided to go anyways."
My mom added, "you're lucky it's only three weeks."
I knew the answer, but I had to ask. "What about Amanda's sleepover next weekend? I mean I know I screwed up, but literally this is the first birthday party I've been invited to since we moved here."
"Sorry, you should've thought about that before you went to that party," my mom replied. Except she didn't sound sorry.
Before I could stop myself I asked, "What am I supposed to tell them? I said yes to the sleepover, they're excited. I thought you wanted us to fit in? Not stand out? Birthday parties are part of that."
"So is getting punished for breaking the rules. Did you actually think you wouldn't be punished?" My mom sounded shocked and angry.
"I knew I'd be punished, I just didn't think you would take away the first thing I've had to look forward to since moving here."
"Don't do that! Don't blame me and your mother for the consequences of your decisions. You knew we would ground you when you went to that party." Arms crossed, disappointed dad face now in full effect.
I was so irritated. I needed to leave before I dug myself any deeper. "Are we done? Can I go to my room now?"
"No," my dad said, arms still crossed. "Natalie, this is serious and I need you to get that."
"I do-"
Dad interrupted, eyebrows raised, "Oh, do you? Because the fact that you're still giving us attitude says otherwise."
"So I'm not allowed to be irritated now?" I couldn't stop myself. My hangover was clouding my judgement.
"Excuse me?" My dad sounded angry now. My mom's eyebrows were raised now too.
I didn't say anything. I hope he didn't expect me to actually repeat myself.
"Reign it in, Natalie. The attitude stops now. You understand me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, to make sure you understand how serious getting drunk and doing drugs is, you'll be spending all your free time on the weekends learning about the consequences of going down that path."
What the hell does that mean? I realized too late that I verbalized my internal thoughts.
"Language." My dad started with raised eyebrows, "it means that we'll be taking some trips around town. The shelter and the jail come to mind. They're filled with people who made some bad decisions as teenagers and didn't think it was a big deal."
My mom chimed in, "Your actions have consequences, Natalie. And they can be way worse than just being grounded."
I was shocked. I pleaded with my parents, "I get it. I promise I do. I won't even think about drugs or alcohol again."
Dad was unrelenting, "I'm glad. But to make sure, we'll be taking a trip next weekend to see just how serious this is."
Defeated, confused, curious. I felt so many things, but I settled on annoyed. I smirked as I stood up, "Cool. Sounds fun, but if you remember, I'm grounded, so I'll actually take a rain check."
I think I crossed a line. They both looked exponentially more angry.
"Who do you think you're talking to?" My mom was livid. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but you need to get it under control."
"What's gotten into me? I'm just doing what you tell us to do. I'm trying to make friends, give this place a shot." I looked at my dad now, "And spoiler alert, dad, everyone here parties on the weekends. So I guess you need to adjust your expectations on what me fitting in would look like."
If I crossed the line before, I have now done cartwheels over it. My dad took several steps toward me. Once his face was inches from mine, his stern voice commanded, "Go to you room right now."
"Love to." My desire to have the last word outweighed my self preservation. I left before anyone could get another word in. Up to my cell for the next few weeks.
