Page 43 of Unleashed

The instant it happens, the scowl that’s so often on her face in my presence is back in place. Her eyes narrow, and she stabs one finger toward the door. “It’s time for you to leave.”

She marches to the door, opening it and waiting as I pass her. Once I’m on the porch, she closes it most of the way, leaving me with nothing but a sliver of her face as she says, “And go home this time. If I wake up tomorrow and see you parked under that tree, I’m gonna lose my shit.”

14

Maren

It appears I’m going to have to lose my shit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I sigh, taking a deep breath before continuing on my path, directing Zara into the back of our van.

I just don’t have it in me to go give Trevor hell right now. I’m tired. I may or may not have a slight hangover. And I’m having issues with how seeing him in my house last night made me feel.

It was weird. Strange. Unexpected and unwarranted.

But for the first time ever I wasn’t the only adult around. I didn’t have to handle everything by myself. All Trevor even did was run Doug off, but that left one less thing on my plate. And considering I’m on my way to accompany Zara’s preschool to the zoo for their end of the year field trip, I could really stand one less thing to deal with.

With my sister buckled in place, I do a quick rundown of our stuff, making sure we have everything we could possibly need before getting behind the wheel and heading for the school.

“Do you think the tigers will be out?” Zara’s brimming with excitement over this day. She loves the zoo. It’s why we get season passes every year. At this point, we’re there often enough, she could navigate the place with her eyes closed. “And the otters?”

“Probably.” The weather is pretty mild. The sun’s out, and it’s not so hot the animals will be hiding in the shade. “I bet you guys get to see a bunch of critters today.”

And as long as I don’t throw up, it should be a pretty fun time.

As we drive, I chug a bottle of water, using a few mouthfuls to down a couple aspirin. I also put a handful of crackers in my stomach, hoping they’ll help quell the nausea that is either from tequila or the overly sweet mix it was combined with.

Possibly a little of both.

Zara continues chattering about the zoo and her friends and what we packed for her lunch, filling the drive with her cute little voice. I don’t think I’ve ever turned on the music when we’re in a vehicle together, because I feel bad interrupting her. I never want her to think I’m not interested in what she has to say.

Even if there are times I’m not actually interested in what she has to say.

Thankfully, by the time we’re parking, I feel a little bit better. Not great, but not two wrong swallows away from purging the contents of my stomach.

I check in with her teacher, get my badge, and it’s time to load up and go. I’ve never actually been on a field trip. My mother never remembered—or possessed—the required fees for me to go, so Zara and I are experiencing it for the first time together.

And honestly, it’s pretty freaking great.

It’s been years since I’ve ridden on a school bus, and even then, the experience was not great. I was always the stinky, dirty kid everyone pointed at from a distance. But today, I have my social butterfly of a sister to serve as my guide. She introduces me to all her friends by name. Tells me their favorite color, and what she likes best about them.

The coolest part is, they all seem to know her favorite color too. Are there a couple little kids in the group who are probably total shitheads? Yeah. But they’re shitheads who are smart enough to know I’m not above ruining a child’s life over my sister, so they play along.

We arrive at the zoo, and I’m a little disappointed to see we aren’t the only school who planned a field trip for today. The place is packed with loud groups of overactive kids, and I’m overstimulated before we even fully make it inside the gates.

By the time Zara’s teacher is finished explaining the plan—that our little groups can venture out on their own, but we’re all to meet at the picnic shelters for lunch at noon—I’m beyond ready to take my assigned five giggly girls, and get moving.

Chaperoning isn’t for the weak, but it’s not as chaotic as I was worried it would be, and the girls all stick with me as we visit each of their favorite animals. I know it’s not the most organized way to tackle the zoo, but there’s no way we’re going to have enough time to circle the entire place, and I want to be sure each of them gets to see at least one thing they’re excited about.

So we check out the elephants. Spend a few minutes watching the manatees. Laugh as the new group of baby otters chase each other through their enclosure. Get lucky and have the opportunity to feed the giraffes. And do a quick tour of the bug building.

Not my favorite, but I’m not here to judge. And it’s actually pretty fucking cool that a five-year-old girl is obsessed with hissing cockroaches.

We’ve just finished hitting everybody’s high point, when one of the little girls looks at me. “What about you?”

I’m digging through the cooler bag I brought, searching for the packs of string cheese that seem to have migrated to the bottom, and don’t really understand what she’s asking. “What about me?”

“We haven’t gone to see your favorite animal yet.”