“A sex show. They’re calling it a sex show. I don’t understand why they’re trying to make this ugly!”

I crumple down next to the pile of tulle, completely overwhelmed, rock forward and clasp my arms around my stomach.

I begin to sob, my shoulders shaking, and Carly is quickly beside me, handing me a tissue. She puts both arms around me and lets me cry until I am hiccuping, hands me another tissue to blow my nose. When I am just dripping, trying to catch my breath, she stands up to plug the kettle in, rips open a new box of tea from her bottom drawer, watches the sidewalk below her window while the water bubbles.

I suck in a deep breath, and she turns.

“I don’t know what to do,” I say. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this lost. I silently plead for Carly to have an answer, any answer for me. She’s always known what to do.

She’s quiet for a moment, pours water in a mug for herself and adds more water and a fresh bag to mine. She replaces the kettle and sits next to me.

After a moment she says, “I don’t know what you should do either.”

I laugh. “I hate that answer,” I say.

She laughs. “I do too.” She shakes her head. “Drink your tea.” She sighs and puts her hand on mine. “I’m on your side,” she says softly.

I didn’t know how very badly I needed to hear that. I want to cry again, but I pull in a shaky breath.

“My mother thought the tuition for Angles was a scam and I should just walk away,” I say. “Did I tell you that? She said you were trying to scam me and that I shouldn’t let you get away with it.”

She chokes at that, and I grin at her a little.

“We did this—our burlesque club—so I could go. Because the idea of losing this opportunity was the worst thing I could think of. Because my friends didn’t want me to lose my chance.” I shake my head. “It didn’t feel like I had any choice, Carly.” I stop. “But can I tell you how much we loved the idea?”

She laughs again. “A burlesque show.”

“An underground burlesque club.”

“The sheer nerve,” she says, shaking her head. Smiling at me. “Unbelievable. You have always been so go big or go home.”

“It was that or sell a kidney,” I say.

“Why didn’t you wait for me, Addie?” Frowning now. “I was working on it.”

I shrug, looking into the bottom of my cup. Look back at her. Her face is scrunched up with worry and sad, her bun in disarray.