All the Pretty Lies by M. Leighton Read Free Book Online

might’ve seemed hard on you, but you
don’t know what hard is.”
    “I’ll protect you,” I say, taking another sip
of my drink. The burn is less evident this time and I’m able to
appreciate the bite of the rum coupled with the sweetness of the
Coke.
    “I’ll remember you said that.”
    “Please do.”
     
    ********
     
    The thing about alcohol, I’m discovering, is
that it sneaks up on you. One minute you feel a little lightheaded,
the next you can’t see straight.
    “I think this needs to be your last one,” Sig
says as I drain my third Corona with lime.
    “I’m fine,” I tell him, noting the happy,
warm feeling, but no real impairment. “But I am getting a
little sleepy,” I confess, stifling a yawn. “Let me out so I can
use the bathroom and then we’ll go.”
    Sig moves out of the booth and I stand, the
bar dipping and swaying around me. I reach back to lay a hand on
the table until I can steady myself.
    “Can you even make it to the bathroom by
yourself?”
    “Of course I can,” I say, noting that my
voice sounds slurred even to my own ears. “Just point me in the
right direction.”
    Sig takes me by the shoulders and turns me
slightly, until I’m facing the bar. “Straight ahead. They’re just
down that hall, on the left.”
    I strain to focus on the hall to which he’s
referring. When I do, I nod. “Got it,” I say and I take off,
weaving carefully between bodies as I go.
    For the most part, I’ve never been at such a
disadvantage when peeing. I’m a squatter, my butt never having
touched a public toilet seat in my life. That’s more of a
challenge, however, when maintaining one’s balance is an issue. I
do the only thing I can. I plaster my palms to the silver metal
walls of the stall and I lean back until I’m hovering above the
commode, then I let fly.
    I’m quite pleased with myself when I’m
finished and have still managed not to even so much as graze
the toilet seat. After I finish up, I right my clothes, wash and
dry my hands, then check my reflection in the mirror.
    My black hair is still smooth and straight
and my minimal makeup is still intact. It’s my eyes that give me
away. They look heavy and unfocused. I look drunk, even
though I had no idea I was anywhere close.
    I stick out my tongue to wet my dry lips and
press my cool hands to my overly hot cheeks before I head back out
to the bar.
    It’s as I’m crossing the crowded floor back
to Sig that I wish for a little more clarity.
    “Sloane Annelle Locke, just what the hell do
you think you’re doing?”
    I know that tone. I know that voice. And,
despite my determination and my earlier bravado, I cringe. It’s my
older brother, Steven. He’s as bad as Dad for using my whole name
when he’s pissed.
    I turn toward the voice. “Steven!” I say
enthusiastically. “You were just who I was looking for. Please tell
me Dad’s here. That would be just perfect.”
    “No, he’s not. And you’d better thank your
lucky stars, too.”
    “And why is that?” I ask boldly.
    “He’d ground your ass for a year if he saw
you drinking.”
    “Well, that would be a little difficult since
I’m twenty-one. I’m not doing anything wrong.”
    “The hell you’re not!”
    “The hell I am!” I counter, equally
emphatic.
    “That’s not the point and you know it.”
    “Then what is the point?” I snap,
getting madder by the second.
    “The point is that—”
    I cut him off. “There is no point,
Steven. I’m not living like this anymore. I’m my own person. I make
my own decisions and no one is responsible for me but me. Now back off! I came here in hopes you’d be understanding and that
maybe, just maybe, y’all would stop treating me like a child.
Clearly I was wrong.”
    I start to stalk off, but Steven grabs me by
the arm and turns me back around to face him. “Just where do you
think you’re going?”
    “Home,” I say, trying to jerk my arm free,
but unable to break his firm grip.
    “Like this? Behind the