Page 86 of Outspoken

This is it.

Escape.

But why doesn't it feel the way it used to?

Ashley makes a sound. “People have fetishes for scars?”

“Like I said, they have fetishes foreverything.”

Am I really here? Or am I dreaming this?

“What about dog food?” Ashley asks. “A guy eating dog food and jerking off.”

It takes a moment, but the pieces slowly click together. I’ve been without this numbness for so long that I built it up in my head. The ache seeping into my bones makes me remember.

This isn’t a dream. It’s a nightmare—Old Amber’s nightmare.

Destiny laughs. “I guess. I mean, if it gets him off.”

I had fun in the past, like singing karaoke and getting guys to dance for me, but the bad moments outweighed the good: waking night after night in strange beds, not knowing what had happened. Mixing pills, then vomiting, then taking more pills—overdosing once by accident, once on purpose. Enduring hangovers and headaches that lasted for days until I relieved them the only way I could—by drinking.

Outbursts. Mood swings. Emptiness.

No matter what I did, the bad memories always came back—pain pushing through the gaps created by every drink or puff or pill until I couldn't see anything beyond my anguish.

Hurting myself. Hurting people I love.

For the past year, that nightmare was gone.

I just invited it back in.

Why did I invite it in?

Ashley glances at me, notices my tears, and then scoots closer. “Hey,” she says, rubbing my back. She presses Oxy into the center of my palm. “You need this. It'll get your mind off whatever is making you sad, okay? I know you’ve been going through a lot, so just take it and you’ll feel better.”

Just take it and I’ll feel better.

For how long?

Only until the pill wears off—until the bad memories come back and I take more pills to forget. Only until Brody and Paige figure out what I’ve done, and I take pills to erase them, too. There’s no end to the pills I’ll have to take to feel better.

Even if my life is sucky and meaningless, can I really go back to this dependency?

I don’t want to give drugs that power.

I don’t want to be helpless.

I stare at Ashley and Destiny—just stare—until Destiny leans forward and touches my arm.

“Hey,” she says. “Um, are you okay? You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Bathroom.”

I give the Oxy to Destiny and then stand, tugging my dress down. I don’t want Old Amber back. I see her too clearly now. She was left behind a long time ago at these parties, and that’s where she needs to stay, even if New Amber has nowhere to belong.

I’m happy she doesn’t belong here.

“Hey,” Ashley calls after me as I turn toward the house.

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