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“HOLD STILL ANOTHER MINUTE,” AMBER says, brushing a coat of clear polish across my thumbnail. I hate my nails painted, but she’s bored, so I let her convince me to sit at the kitchen table and pretend my hands are a canvas. I also let her braid my hair, which I’ll admit keeps it out of the way. My long tresses interfere a lot.
Careful not to smudge the purple polish, I tap my phone.
“Oh, I know. You’re like one of those machines that go forever. What’s that called?”
She blows on my fingers. “Yeah. That.”
I watch her sip a beer, and she catches my gaze. She’s been drinking more this week. I’ve told her I don’t like it.
“Stop worrying,” she says. “I’m being safe.”
I raise my eyebrow.
“Yes.”
She caps the bottles of polish. “Why were you checking up on me at two in the morning?”
I stick my tongue out.
She throws back the remaining beer and crushes the can with her fist. “I forgot how tricky you are.” After disposing of the can, she returns to the kitchen table. “So what? I’ve been camming a little. I like variety and my back hurts from all the driving. It also pays jack shit.”
“Lawyers are expensive and I want to help. Have you looked at the ones I sent you? Let’s pick one and set up a meeting.”
I fiddle with my phone. I skimmed three of the lawyer’s websites yesterday as a courtesy, but there’s no point. Even if I could hire one, the judge who would handle my case is my mom’s high school sweetheart. He’ll always rule in her favor.
I accept my situation. Why can’t Amber?
Amber laughs. “No, they don’t. And we won’t know they’re dicks until we talk in person. I’ll find more, but we should pick one soon so we can ask about the next steps. The sooner we start, the sooner you’ll have your freedom.”
My mom’s words pick at my brain. Being an adult is a lot to manage, cookie. You can’t handle that. It’s too much for you. That’s why Mama’s here to take care of everything, so you never have to worry about finances or grocery shopping and all those icky adult things.
Though I’ve worked since I was 18, I’ve never handled taxes, or done grocery shopping alone, or taken a car in to get the oil changed. I can’t even drive. I can’t even have sex fully.
What if Mama’s right?
I’d rather not think or talk about it. Not now. An orgasm is my goal. Nothing else.
I shake my head at Amber.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m being careful. I promise. Destiny isn’t a party-girl like Ashley, and her house is totally chill and safe. We have a few shots sometimes because it relaxes me before a show. We might smoke a joint, but that’s it. I only need something because it makes me more engaging. Guys like watching drunk stoner chicks.”
The pit of my stomach twists. I hate when she talks this way. I hate when she drinks. The other day, I finally convinced her to give me Destiny’s address for emergencies, but I don’t know what else to do. Even if I told Brody about her camming, she won’t stop unless she wants to. I wish she’d do it here, where I know she’s safe. I’d rather she dildo herself in my room than at Destiny’s. Whoever Destiny is.
Her head shake is too weak.
I switch to demon voice.
“Once, okay? Ashley came over to Destiny’s once to say hello. We didn’t do anything. She’s got a baby now, so she doesn’t have money to get the good stuff.”
