She would borrow my minivan occasionally and bring it back the next day. One night I realized I needed my car first thing in the morning and called her to bring it back. I could tell she was really messed up and was slurring her words. She said she was at her Dad's condo in downtown Minneapolis with a friend. She said she was going to drive my car back, but I knew that was not a good idea. I ended up asking her friend's Dad to come with me to the condo so we could take them safely home. I opened the door to the condo, and there was Avery and her boyfriend, sitting on the couch. I asked where her friend was and she said her friend had left. I said she needed to come home and she got very belligerent and said she wouldn't come home. I told that her Dad said she couldn't stay there. She said she was just going to run off with her boyfriend then. I asked her to get her stuff because we were going. I appealed to her boyfriend to help me to get Avery to come home. While she was in the other room, I cleaned up her tall glass of Captain Morgan and took a small scale off the coffee table. I wondered what the scale was for and still could not comprehend that she might be doing drugs as well as alcohol. I got her home and gave her ibuprofen. She was really, really mad at me. I was confused and alarmed... what if she had tried to drive the van home? She popped up the next morning just fine and I drove her to school. Looking back, I could see all the pieces to the puzzle were there. But at the time, it was confusing: how drunk could she have been if she was able to go to school the next morning? I could see there definitely was a problem, but was at a loss to define it or solve it with what I knew at the time.