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Contents ( 32)
  1. ALSO BY AMY ENGEL
  2. CONTENTS
  3. THE END
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. THE BEGINNING
  30. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  31. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  32. What’s next on your reading list?

“Oh, hey,” she said finally. “Eve, right? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while.”

Crystal leaned over the bar, and I swiveled in my chair. “Can I get a Bud Light?” she asked Sam, and he nodded, handed her an icy bottle. “God.” She sighed. “That tastes good. You wouldn’t think it, but those lights are hot as fuck.” She eyed me over her bottle. “You come in here to hang out?”

I shrugged, pointed at my glass until Sam got the hint. “Yeah.”

“Huh. I can think of about half a dozen better spots. Including your own living room.” She took another swig of beer. “Why in the hell would you want to spend time in this dump if you didn’t have to?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

That got a half smile out of her, a peek of a canine tooth and a flash of silver filling. “I hear ya. When you need a drink, you need a drink.”

I didn’t correct her notion that drinking was a regular habit of mine. To be fair, judging from the way I was slamming down my vodkas, she had a basis for thinking I still liked the booze. And even though I didn’t enjoy the taste anymore, I was definitely enjoying the fuzziness at the edge of my vision, the blurry wall every swallow built between me and the world.

Crystal gave a quick hoot of laughter. “Remember in eighth grade when we stole a bottle from my sister, Wild Turkey or some shit, and you ended up puking in English class? I can still see the look on Mrs. Johnson’s face when the smell hit her. How long did they suspend you for that time?”

“Two days.” The principal had already given up on me by that point, hadn’t even bothered to give me the same old lecture about getting my shit together and thinking of my future. He’d known as well as I had that I didn’t have a future beyond my mama’s. He probably thought I’d hit rock bottom already, but it turned out there was further to go. More suspensions for drinking and fighting in high school, a looming threat of expulsion, even a ride in the back of Land’s cruiser with my hands cuffed behind my back for threatening a teacher. And then Junie came along and saved me.

Crystal pushed away her half-empty beer bottle, straightened one of her tassels with a practiced hand. “I thought maybe you were in here looking for your brother, but I haven’t seen him lately.”

“Wait, what?” I said, words stumbling and slow. “My brother doesn’t come in here.”

“Sure he does,” Crystal said, going to work on her other tassel, untangling the shimmery black threads. She glanced over at me. “I mean, not to stuff dollar bills in my crotch or anything.”

I shook my head, thinking that might clear away the alcohol cobwebs, but the room tilted and spun. “My brother?” My words were more than slightly slurred now, the syllables running together in one long exhalation. “Cal?”