Beyond the Point(8)

“Shit, Caleb,” Avery said. “Do you even realize how much a lawyer costs?”

“I’m going to be sick,” he said.

“Oh God. Not in the car. Open the door!”

And he did, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the concrete in the driveway.

Avery’s jeans and black T-shirt were wet from the bathing suit she still wore underneath, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her brother sat up again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Dad’s going to kill me.” A moment passed, and then he leaned forward, his head in his hands. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“If you’d just set the beer down, they probably would have let you go with a warning,” Avery said. “Why did you run to the car? Why’d you take the keys?”

Caleb turned his gray-blue eyes on his sister, looking like a hurt puppy. Saliva gathered at the corners of his mouth. “How was I supposed to know, Avery? I’ve never even been to a party!”

“Shhh, shhh. Calm down.” She worried his shouts might wake the neighbors. She looked at their house—every light was on. “It’s going to be okay. Just . . . when we get inside, go to your room. I’ll deal with Mom and Dad.”

“He’s going to kill me, Avery.”

“He’s not going to kill you. It’s going to be okay.”

She wasn’t certain it would be. But, assuaged by her promise, Caleb walked up to the house, through the front door, and disappeared down the back hall. The bathroom door slammed hard behind him, followed by the sound of a loud retch. Liquid splattered against porcelain, then she heard the toilet flush.

At that moment, Avery’s mother, Lonnie, appeared in the hallway, her shining face and worried eyes showing all that Avery needed to know. Her mother tightened the red terry-cloth robe around her waist.

“How did this happen?” her mother snapped. Her voice was as thin and cold as the snowflakes still falling outside. “Were you with him?”

“No . . . he called me from the station. Seriously, Mom. Everything’s fine.”

Moving past her daughter, Lonnie hustled down the hall toward the bathroom and began to bang on the door. “Caleb! Caleb! Open up. Now!”

From the front door, Avery could see into the kitchen, where her father, Hank, paced back and forth across the linoleum floor, holding the cordless phone to his ear. Lean and imposing, Hank Adams had dark features and a permanent five o’clock shadow that looked as though he’d spent his life in a coal mine, which, to be fair, he would have, if he’d been born a quarter century earlier. He was fit, though, with muscles that hadn’t diminished over the years since he’d played football at Notre Dame. And despite the fact that he spent his life above ground, selling coal, there was always dirt under his fingernails, always a rasp in his voice, like he carried an aluminum pail to work every day. Avery felt the same grit in her blood, just underneath the surface, trying to break free. Coal was stubborn that way. It stayed in your veins.

“Sure,” Hank was saying. “Can we do it in installments? Oh. Okay. Understood. Well, then, we’ll get the retainer to you tomorrow. All right, Dan. We’ll see you Monday.”

Slamming the phone on the base, Hank turned to look at Avery, who put her chin up, pretending to be calmer than she felt. She’d never seen her father’s eyes look so intense, his pupils so small. The dark hair on his forearms seemed to stand on end.

“Two thousand dollars, just to take on the case,” her father told her.

A silence filled the room, so thick Avery struggled to breathe.

“Dad . . . I—”

“He watches you, you know,” her father said. His lower lip quivered. “You go out. Drink. Carry on. And what happens? You get voted homecoming queen. He does the same thing, and his life is fucking ruined.”

“Dad.” Avery nearly felt like crying. “His life isn’t—”

“What exactly do you think you know about life, Avery? Huh? I’m sorry to break it to you, but beauty doesn’t exactly pay the bills. And you have the audacity to tell me about life? That’s rich.”

He paused his rant, rubbed his temple.

“All I know is, you better be on your knees thanking God that this wasn’t you. Because you and I both know, it could have been.”

He pushed past her and down the hall. “Caleb! Open the damn door!”

ON MONDAY, HER parents took her little brother, dressed in an oversized suit and tie, for their first meeting with the lawyer. Avery drove herself to school and pretended to pay attention in class, when in reality, all she could think about was the disappointment painted all over her father’s face as he’d yelled at her Saturday night, and as he’d ignored her the next morning. For years, Avery had lived her life without fear of any consequences. But watching her brother suffer because of her bad example, she suddenly felt like she’d swallowed a toxic cocktail of anger and shame. Anger that her father would accuse her of causing Caleb’s mess; shame that he was probably right.

ON FRIDAY EVENING, the gymnasium doors opened at five o’clock, sending a flood of light and a pack of girls into the darkened parking lot. They walked slowly under the weight of their backpacks, chatting idly while parents pulled up to pick up the freshmen. Soaked in sweat that defied the near-freezing temperature outside, steam rose off of Avery’s bare limbs into the cold.