Troll Or Derby, A Fairy Wicked Tale Read Online Free Page B

hurt, anyway?” Derek asked, as he pulled the car into his driveway.
    “You don’t really want to know,” I said. Were the cops there to question me? Would they actually do anything if I told them about Dave and his drug ring?
    I slunk down in the seat of the car and adjusted the rearview mirror so I could see what was going on at my house. Two uniformed cops stood on the front porch, knocking.
    “Derek, you’ve got to get me out of here.”
    “Don’t you want to go home and see what’s going on?”
    “I think one of those cops is Dave’s cousin.”
    Derek twisted around, painfully obvious as he checked out the two police. “Yeah,” he said. “And the woman cop is his aunt.”
    “Fuck. You gotta get me out of here, man,” I said.
    Derek backed the car out of the driveway a little too quickly, and I slid further down the seat, hoping the cops weren’t going to jump in their car and follow us. Peeling out in the trailer park might be an everyday occurrence, but in this instance it had to look suspicious.
    They didn’t follow us, and we were five miles from the park before Derek asked me where we should go.
    “ We aren’t going anywhere—but you can drop me off at the rink,” I said.
    “Coach isn’t there. He said he’s going to The Barn for some drinks after the game.”
    “Crap. Got any other ideas?”
    “Well, my mom’s at church. We could stop in there and beg for gas money.”
    It wasn’t my first choice of destinations, but it looked like I was out of options. We were there in minutes.
    “What’s she doing at church on a Friday, anyway?” The plastic flapping banner across the entrance to the cinderblock building read, HOLIDAY BAZAAR THIS SATURDAY. “She selling her ornaments at the church?”
    “Oh, yeah. Doilies, stuff she hot-glues—you know it. There’s a potluck tonight, then they’re setting up the booths.”
    The smell of food inside the church hit me like a baseball bat. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until that moment. When had I last eaten? “Think they’d care if we had some of their food?”
    “It’s a church, isn’t it?” Derek said.
    He had a point.
    The Fellowship Hall was lined with folding tables and pegboards bearing Christmas and Thanksgiving crafts. Halloween hadn’t passed yet, but Christ Covenant Brigade wasn’t really big on monsters and witches and such, as far as I could tell.
    At the end of the room was a buffet table at least twenty feet long. I found an empty table, pulled out a folding chair, and felt what was left of my energy drain away. If I were a character in one of Derek’s video games, I’d be in dire need of more hearts.
    “Just stay here. I’ll say hi to my mom and get you something to eat,” Derek said. He was never going to succeed with his Mac Daddy act at this rate.
    His mom was so excited to see him at church that she even made a fuss over me—usually she didn’t even look me in the eye. Derek and I stopped hanging out when she realized I was probably going to grow up to be a lesbian, so…you know, around fourth grade or so. At least a year or two before I even knew.
    Yeast rolls, hot from the oven and dripping butter, appeared in a basket before me. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, mac and cheese with a potato chip crust, and a tiny cup of Coke followed shortly. Starving, I ate too fast.
    “I’m going to be sick,” I said.
    “You want to go outside?” Derek asked.
    I nodded, and he handed me his keys. I tried to stand, and I really thought I’d make it, but then a sign reading FRIDAY NIGHT MEATLOAF FELLOWSHIP swam before my eyes, and I was falling. The cowboy hat barely cushioned my head against the hard tile floor, and I think I managed to croak out “I’m sorry” to Derek.
    Not again. Please, God. Not in the company of holy rollers. I’ll wake up in a dress at Camp Pray-the-Gay-Away.
    And then all was black.

Chapter 3.5
    Paranoia Will Destroy