Scars from a Memoir Read Online Free Page B

tight but cute for on top.”
    She pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans and a black-and-pink sleeveless shirt that tied at the waist and set both on the bed. A pair of knee-high boots came next. “For Josiah's sake, you better wear a sweater during the meeting.” She placed a black cardigan by the shirt.
    Tiffany thought Josiah, a recovered tweaker who attended our meetings, had a thing for me. She wasn't very observant. Josiah had flirted during the first week, but that had long since ended. He'd asked me out for coffee, saying he could use someone to talk to, and then I found out what he really wanted. I kicked him in the balls before the night was over. He'd known I was a hooker; I had discussed it during a meeting.
    After my toe hit his sack, he'd yelled, “You'll always be a whore, you used-up bitch.” I hated him. I'd never forget the burning of my face, the silence that seemed to stretch each second into an hour. He had seemed like such a nice guy. But so had Dave, a man I met in rehab who'd tried to put his hand up my shorts in the smoking lounge. So far, the men who came on to me didn't think I deserved any respect.
    “I'm not going to the meeting tonight,” I said. “Sada invited me out.”
    “Where is she taking you?”
    “Just to her friend's apartment.”
    “Will there be drinking?”
    “I don't know.”
    Her hands went to her hips. “You've only been out of rehab for less than—”
    “Aren't you going to test me when I get home?”
    “That's not the point.” She broke our eye contact and took a deep breath. When she looked at me again, her arms dropped. “I just don't want you to be triggered to use.”
    “I'll be fine.”
    Her eyes inspected my face as if she didn't recognize me.
    I always passed her random drug tests. We were required to attend three NA meetings a week, and I went to at least five. I paid my rent and was tearing it up at my job. Didn't that prove I could be trusted?
    “If I feel like I want to use, I'll call you.” I got up from the bed and stood in front of her, putting my hands on her shoulders. “I can't spend the rest of my life hiding from everything that might tempt me.”
    “It's just too soon.”
    I reminded her of my good behavior over the past three weeks, but no matter how much I tried to reassure her, she continued to shake her head. Staying home was the only thing that was going to make her happy, so I told her I'd wear my work clothes and turned to walk out of her room.
    She called me back, took the clothes off the bed, scooped up the heels, and handed everything to me. “Just be careful.”
    I got ready in the bathroom, using the little makeup I owned and some eye shadow from Diem's cosmetic bag. When I came out, the girls were still sitting in the kitchen. The dishes had been cleared, and the flowerpot had been put back in the center of the table. If Ashley and Kathy were still out here, something had to be up.
    I felt their eyes on me as I went to the fridge and tipped my head back to take a sip from a can of soda. “What's with the looks?” I asked.
    “We're silently praying for you,” Ashley said.
    “Is there anything we can say to stop you from going?” Kathy asked.
    The soda began to slosh inside the can.
    I glanced at Diem, but she didn't say anything. She couldn't. She'd gone out when her family came to visit and had met friends for dinner a few times. No one had said anything to her, so why wasI different? If I started asking questions, I'd be late. With my hand on the knob of the door, I turned around. “I'm going to prove you all wrong.”
    “You have no idea how overwhelming the pull can be until it's too late,” Tiffany said.
    I knew. I'd been fighting it for weeks.
    “I'll be back by midnight,” I said.
    I hoofed it to work every day to save money, and my NA meetings were only a few blocks from our apartment, so I hadn't taken the train since before I'd gone to jail. But Sada lived in the Back Bay, which was a long walk, and it was