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a vodka tonic like everyone else?

Because you can’t handle being out of control even a little bit.

A little more water, some soap, and a ream of paper towels later, the spot had faded from maroon to a sickly pink—still visible, but better. My heart had slowed as well. I looked into the mirror.

Shit. Under the florescent lights, my cream-colored blouse was almost completely see-through. Shit, shit, shit. At least the stain had covered my undergarment. Now, the outline of my bra was clearly visible to everyone.

I stepped to the hand dryer and jabbed the button, half squatting and stretching the blouse as best I could to get the fabric under the airflow. The dryer stopped humming. I pushed the button with my elbow, and frantically tried to get the material back into the perfect place before the hot air stopped again. By the sixth round, I was smashing the button, less worried about the shirt, and more consumed with the desire to kick the dryer into space. Why couldn’t the thing just keep going? Like anyone’s hands really got dry in one push!

“Hannah? What are you doing?” Noelle stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised. I desperately wished for a sudden power outage so I could make a groping, awkward run for it.

“I was…trying to get this blouse to work again.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror: hair askew from the errant dryer wind, cheeks flushed with exertion, and that fucking shirt stretched and hanging off my front, a disarray of transparent ripples.

Noelle began to laugh. I joined her, and once I got going, I had no ability or desire to stop. Tears rolled down my face and mingled with the sweat of panicked shirt drying. Three other women walked into the bathroom and tossed each other knowing looks. Wow, look who’s already had one too many, their pursed lips said.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “Can we take off, please? This is enough excitement for one night.”

“Aw, come on! We’ve only been here for an hour! Plus, with your invisible shirt, you’re finally in something club appropriate. Maybe you’ll even get laid when you get home! Nothing like a little ooh and aah to make the embarrassment worth it, right? Though, I’m not sure Jake knows how to get you to make those noises anyway.”

Point taken. “What’s the difference between ooh and aah?” I said.

Noelle raised her eyebrows.

“About three inches.”

We collapsed into laughter again. Noelle was the first to catch her breath. “Let’s get our stuff. I already got their numbers, but I want to say goodbye. Here, take this.”

She handed me her cardigan. I pulled it on and followed Noelle out of the bathroom toward the table. The guys stood when they saw us—impressive, actually—but it didn’t change anything.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but we have to head out,” Noelle said.

Thomas’s face fell. “But it’s so early! Is there anything we can do to change your minds?”

Noelle shook her head. “We had a little wardrobe malfunction.”

Their banter faded in my ears. Jim’s eyes roved over me, as engaged as if I had suggested we strip naked and hula hoop. The prickle of goose bumps I’d felt earlier returned with renewed ferocity. I touched Noelle’s arm and jerked my head toward the door.

“Hopefully, we can get together again soon,” Jim said.

I tried to force a polite nod, a grin, some kind of acknowledgment, but my body was shouting no way in hell. Noelle and I weaved toward the exit through throngs of club-goers smelling of Axe Body Spray and desperation. It wasn’t until we reached the street that I felt my body relax as if an invisible wire had been cut.

“Why the hell would it be okay for you to go to a club?”

My face was on fire. “I wasn’t there for long, and I didn’t dance or anything like that.”

“Did you talk to anyone?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Why did you tell him, Hannah? “The club was next to the restaurant. I just—”

“Who’d you go with? Are you fucking around?”

I put a hand on the table behind me to steady myself. “No! I…saw Noelle, this girl who works with me in HR. She always asks me to come out with her, and I always refuse because I know you wouldn’t want me to. But I was right there. I thought she might get suspicious or something if I said no.”

“Suspicious?” A flash of understanding. Not enough.

“I mean…I don’t know.” My back was dewy with sweat. The table. Focus on the table.

Jake stepped toward me, face inches from mine. “Are you fucking listening to me?” I could barely hear him over the thudding of my heart.

He grabbed my arms in both hands. “Look at me, goddammit!”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Jake, I just thought that—”

“Why do you make me do this to you?” He released me, violently. My tailbone hit the table, and I yelped.

Just get it over with. Be done.

“I need to get the fuck out of here to calm down,” he said. “You’re fucking worthless; you know that?”

I watched him stalk into the hallway. The door slammed.

You’re worthless. I am the only one who appreciates you.

Let me show you how much I care about you—

I ran through the living room to the bathroom and dropped to my knees in front of the toilet. One of Jake’s pubic hairs stuck to the seat. My stomach muscles lurched, but nothing came up. The world wavered. I gripped the sides of the toilet bowl.

In, out…in, out…

I shouldn’t have told him where I had gone. No, I shouldn’t have gone somewhere that I wasn’t supposed to be. I was a damn liar and nowhere near clever enough to do the right thing or avoid pissing him off. Maybe I should stop working at the shelter, too, before he found out and had another reason to get angry.

A scar on my ankle throbbed wetly. In the past, it had been worth bleeding the dejection from my veins with a straight razor. The pain had worked to clear my mind because it released calming endorphins, though I suspected the hurt also served as a distraction from my shitty life. But I wasn’t that girl anymore.

Maybe if I did just a little. It wouldn’t take much to make my head stop spinning.

I won’t go back.

I stood on wobbly legs, leaned against the counter and stared into the mirror. Pale cheeks, like Casper, but not as adorable. See? As long as I could crack a joke, I would be okay. I smiled shakily at my reflection.

You’re okay, Hannah.

I splashed my face with cool water, toweled dry, and walked out to the living room. All was silent except for the television that had been left on low. The whole place felt utterly abandoned. I touched a large brownish stain on the armrest of the empty couch. Sticky. I sighed instead of crying.

Beer bottles and old magazines littered the coffee table. I was bending to pick them up when a cold chill shivered down my spine. Someone was watching. I jerked around, envisioning a figure emerging from the shadows, but the room remained empty.

Outside. The curtains were open, window cracked—probably so Jake could smoke a bowl without me knowing—but now the darkness beyond taunted me with far more terrifying unknowns. I clasped the papers to my chest and moved closer to the window, peering down at the empty street below. What would happen to me if Jake left for good?

Get it together, Hannah. There’s no one there. No one’s going to come after you; you’re not that important.

I was important enough to him. And I’m sure I made him furious. I slammed the window shut.

The living room took half an hour, the bedroom another forty minutes. When all was tidy, I finally felt like I could breathe again. As I brought dirty rags back to the kitchen, I stumbled over my purse on the floor and grabbed the wallet off the top. But I already knew—my cash was gone.

Through the glass front door, the man saw Jake rush out of the stairwell and into the lobby. The man had no time to escape across the street without drawing attention to himself, so instead, he grabbed the front door handle as Jake emerged.

“Pardon me,” the man said.

Jake glared back, his stained T-shirt showing beneath his wrinkled, open jacket.

“A friend of mine is having a party here tonight, but I seem to have left the address at home. Can you tell me where Sandra Henson lives?”

Jake snorted. “How the hell would I know?” He scurried down the walk without waiting for a response.

The man held the door, watching Jake’s back

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