To Hell and Back Read Free Page A

at all?”
    It hurts like a bitch, actually.  Dammit, Hank.  It had to be the face today.  “No, really, it’s fine. With all the stuffiness and eye watering I think I’m just a little puffy.” Yep, super sexy. This is just how I always wanted to meet this guy; talking about the goo that comes from my nose. Lord, please just get me out of here.
    “Okay, home it is.”
    Less than five minutes later Lucy, a spitfire of a woman with red hair way too bright to be natural and a sense of humor that goes on for miles, pulls up to my house.  I’ve asked her to just let me out by the curb rather than pull in the driveway.  There is a much smaller chance of waking Hank that way.  I have no idea how I would explain a Lexus parked in the driveway, let alone one containing a life-sized caricature of Lucille Ball and a Hollywood hunk. Carson, who I have noticed has introduced me to Lucy but not introduced himself, offers to walk me to the door, but I decline and thank them both.
    Walking into the house, I find myself wishing again that I still had friends close enough to call for some gossip. Sure, the gossip is about me, but it isn’t every day some girl in Marshall is brought home by a TV vampire.  Those thoughts are short-lived as I hear Hank head down the upstairs hallway toward the bathroom. I down the meds I picked up and decide to start heating some soup anyway. Hopefully Hank will have sobered up a bit and will be ready for a bit of dinner and a quiet, uneventful evening.
     

Chapter Three
     
    Brielle
     
    It has been almost a week since my “episode” at Miller’s and I’m feeling a lot better. Thankfully, Hank was in a better mood when he woke up that night. He spent the evening watching ESPN and ignoring me.  He met some woman at his favorite bar during a dart tournament on Sunday afternoon so I didn’t even see him again until Wednesday. That happens every now and again, and as completely disgusting as it is to think of Hank having a three-day fuck fest with some slut he picked up, it’s better than having him home bothering me.  Between the blow to my face and the sinus pressure it was a full two days before my head stopped pounding, so I was happy with the time to myself.  I dragged myself to school Monday morning so I wouldn’t fall behind on anything and was relieved to find that no one seemed to know anything about my mishap over the weekend.  No one even seemed to know about Carson Malone being in Marshall, which seemed kind of strange. I guess it was just me and the older crowd at Miller’s on Saturday afternoon. I must have been the only one to know who he was.
    On Friday afternoon, I meet with the school guidance counselor, Ms. Bailey, before I get on the bus to head home.  I am the only senior who still rides that thing but with no car and no friends there isn’t really another option.  I head down to her office and knock on the door. 
    “Hi, Brielle.  How has your week been?  Sorry I haven’t checked in with you lately; we have had a lot of juniors coming in with application questions.  How are things going?  You seem a little under-the-weather.”
    I always get a kind of “mom vibe” from Ms. Bailey; I know she means well, but there just isn’t anything she can do for me.   “I’m doing well, thanks.  I just have a case of the sniffles and a red nose from all the tissues I’ve used this week, no big deal.”  I’m hoping she only called me in here because I was next up on her list.  The last thing I need is to be dodging questions and curious teachers when I only have a few months left in this town.
    She smiles at me and reaches for an unopened box of tissues sitting on her shelf.  “Here, take these,” she tells me.  “They have lotion in them and everything.”
    I mumble my thanks and put the box in my bag.  “I have to go soon so I can catch the bus. What did you want to talk about?” Please, God, nothing personal…
    “I saw your name on the list of early