Thirty

Winnie

What have I done?

My feet pound against the ground, and I sprint as fast as I can toward The Whip. The strap on my bag is hanging on by a few threads, and one of us is going to break before I get there. I can’t slow down though, and every few steps, I look over my shoulder to make sure Jasper’s not following me. I’m still so mad at him and completely confused about the personality whiplash he’s giving me. One moment, he’s cold and closed off. The next, he’s grabbing me and kissing me so hard, I can’t breathe. But what did the kiss mean if he’s letting me walk away from him? He’s not the kind of guy to give up that easily.

I could probably make it inside the building without being noticed. The chances I’m being followed are slim, but I still stop at the playground, thankful that it’s empty. Once I tuck myself inside the tube slide, I stay crouched inside for a full twenty minutes until I’m positive I really am all alone.

If Jasper were following, he’d have peeked inside to ask me what I was doing. Trey already knows about my hiding spot, so he’d have looked, too. Still, I’m cautious when I climb back out and fill my lungs with oxygen that doesn’t smell like plastic.

My body’s stiff, and it’s harder to get my legs to move as quickly as I want them to. Ace must be waiting for me because he unlocks the back door from inside his office as soon as I press the intercom button. With my head down, I walk straight to his office. Nobody says a word to me.

He takes my bag and sets it on the floor, scanning me like Cindy did when she picked me up from the hospital. She did the same thing every time I came home, and I always wondered what it was she was looking for.

Ace isn’t stupid, but he’s not as cautious as Cindy either. I’m terrible at making eye contact on a good day. Considering I just made out with his brother, I’m even more awkward than usual.

“Are you okay, Winnie? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” I tell him.

“Did Jasper come here with you?”

“No.”

Ace doesn’t push any further. He forgets about whatever might or might not have happened with Jasper and says, “Crystal gathered a couple of costumes from the dressing room. She said, when you’re ready, she’ll help you pick one.”

He pulls out a box from underneath his desk and sets it in front of me. I don’t think I’ve met Crystal, and I take that as a good sign. Tess never talked about her, so that must mean she’s one of the nice girls. Tess only ran her mouth about the ones who were threats.

But I don’t care what I wear tonight. I just want to put on what I’m told to wear and get this over with. The less I have to worry about, the better because too much stress will land me in the restroom with a razor. And I can’t go onstage with blood trickling down my thigh.

“You can choose. I have no idea what the customers want to see.”

Ace shows me a red wig and a blonde one, a few different dresses the size of postage stamps, and shoes to go with each one. They’re not the kind of heels I teetered around in before. These are even higher with thick platform bottoms. I’ve seen them on runways in my design classes. A few times, even the models couldn’t handle them, and they fell flat on their faces.

My discomfort is obvious, and Ace sets a silver sequined dress, clear plastic pumps, a black thong, and matching bra aside. I assume it’s the outfit he’s chosen for me until he dumps it into the trash can.

“I think we need a different approach, Winnie.”

“What do you mean?”

He checks the rest of the box and then sets it aside. “I’d expect any of the other girls to show up, wearing this stuff. You’re different though. You need a look that nobody’s ever done before.”

There’s a knock on the door, and Ace stops mid-conversation to check who it is through the peephole. He has to be as careful as I do. If the wrong person gets a glimpse of me, Ace can get shut down before this ever happens. I know it’s safe to stay where I’m at when he willingly opens the door and steps aside.

“Crystal,” Ace says, “did you get what I asked for?”

She nods and hands him a shopping bag from a store at the mall. The bag’s full of brand-new clothes with the tags still on. That makes me feel a little less trashy. I won’t be wearing hand-me-downs.

“What do you think, Winnie?”

There aren’t any tassels or rhinestones on this outfit. Not a single sequin either. Just a jean skirt, a red crop top, and a regular white bra and panties you’d find in any department store in America. No frills, no lace, just cotton.

The clothes are a lot like me—boring and not nearly sexy enough to draw a crowd or earn any tips.

As much as I don’t want to wear the other clothes, I’m honest with Ace because I want to make as much money as I can. “Girls at the mall show more skin.”

Laughing, he says, “I’ve seen you in heels, Winnie. I think boots and a bandana are safer.”

Without asking, Crystal pulls the hair tie out of my hair and runs her fingers through the damp strands. My shoulders stiffen, and she stops momentarily until I relax. I understand she’s here to help me, but if her touching me makes me cringe, how will I ever take my clothes off in front of a roomful of strangers?

She’s calm and gentle when she says, “How about we figure out your hair and makeup? Then, we can work on the music and do a practice run before it gets busy.”

Practice?

If I get on that stage, I’m going for it. I can’t even dance, but I’ll give it all I’ve got. I have to.

“That’s a good idea,” Ace says. “I have a couple of songs in mind. Go get started.”

These choices aren’t up to me anymore, so I say, “Okay.”

I got myself here, and now, they’ll help me see it through. Maybe they’ll even have a way to help me get out of my head long enough to be decent.

An hour later, Crystal has used all her makeup on my face, and my eyelashes are so heavy with the fake ones she put on top of mine, it takes actual energy to blink. She doesn’t let me look in the mirror until red hair hangs all the way down my back in long tendrils.

“I think we’ll call you Ariel,” she says. “Our very own Disney princess.”

Princesses don’t take their clothes off. Plus, Ariel was in the ocean, not a country girl on a farm with a jean skirt and boots.

“I’ll never be a princess,” I whisper.

That dream died along with my dad. He’s the only one who thought I came close. Now, I’m just a girl who strips and pretends.

“It’s really not so bad, Winnie. Once you get used to the makeup and hair, it’ll become part of you. You’ll relate more to your stage name than your real one.”

I don’t see that happening. Trey calls me Winn, and that’s when I feel the most like myself. He leaves out an entire syllable, and it’s still more fulfilling than my whole name.

“What was your first time like?” I ask her.

She sets the brush down on the vanity and leans against it. Her arms cross around her middle, and all the confidence she’s shown by taking care of me disappears. Crystal’s vulnerable, and I’m glad she’s not numb like Tess was.

“I was younger than you,” she admits. “The manager before Ace owned the apartment my mother rented from him. She had her fair share of problems and got behind on the bills. They worked out a deal that kept her off the stage and a roof over my head. I considered us lucky until he brought me to work with him one night. Mom had to work a double shift, and I called her about ten times, telling her I didn’t want to leave the house. He took me anyway, and I ended up back here with all of this. I had no idea this world existed. I thought strippers were only in the movies.”

“He made you dance?”

She nods and looks at the floor for a few seconds. When her eyes meet mine again, her pain is as real as my own.

“I danced to pay the rent. Mom worked in the office to pay the rest of the bills. Together, we kept the apartment.”

She doesn’t tell me how old she was. All she says is, “Sometimes, we do things we don’t want to do because it’s what’s best for other people. At the time, I wanted my mom to be happy and not stressed out and sick over money. I knew that, if we lost the apartment, we’d be homeless. So, for me, it was better to come here and do this than to face the alternative. I loved my mom enough to try.”

“But you’re old enough to be on your own now. Why do you stay?”

“We all have our reasons, some better than others, but once you get a taste, it’s not easy to walk away. You’ll make better money here in an hour than a month at another job.”

That’s what I want. The money.

“Nobody can find out. If they do, I’ll lose everything.”

Trey would hate me. Working in the kitchen was one thing, but the stage? He’d never be okay with that. And Jasper already thinks I’m a slut. He told the whole school. Being here would only give him more ammunition to use against me. Not that it matters. I’m not going back to school.

But it does matter, especially after the way he just kissed me. He hurt me, and I still care what he thinks of me. That’s the girl I am and always will be.

Crystal squeezes my hand and smiles. “If you walk out right now, nobody would blame you. Because, once the clothes come off, you can’t ever get rid of those feelings.”

Her honesty makes me second-guess everything. Even if I could dance and was really good, I’m almost positive I’d never last more than a couple of weeks. That’s still a lot of time but not long enough for me to forget where I came from or who I don’t want to become. Because, every single time I look at the stage, I see Tess—her bad attitude, the drugs, the pain she inflicted—and I need to run away. I can only calm myself so many times before I’ll be back in the hospital because of myself.

I need some air, but Crystal says, “Follow me,” and I get up.

It’s safe to walk around in the makeup and wig. If I don’t recognize my own reflection, nobody else will either.

Crystal takes the back way toward the stage, so we don’t have to walk through the bar, and once we get to the curtain separating the lies from the real world, she pulls the side back and lets me take a look out into the pit. They call it the pit because it’s always full of vipers looking for their bite.

“When it’s your turn, stand in the center of the stage, right on the yellow dot on the floor, and let the spotlight shine on you until the music starts. As soon as you hear it, you’re on your own until the song ends.”

“Are they allowed to touch me?”

“Not onstage, only if you want to do a private dance in the back room. Technically, we’re not supposed to ever let them touch us, but you’ll get more money if you let them. Just remember that word spreads, so if you let one break the rules, they’ll all expect the same treatment.”

I can’t handle touching. It’d be too much like the nights in the trailer when I couldn’t move or open my mouth to say no. All I could do was let them do what they wanted until it was over.

“I need to use the restroom,” I lie.

And, while she stares into the pit and watches the vipers arrive, I take off toward the dressing room.

In the short amount of time I was gone, someone wrote Ariel above my mirror, like this is a permanent position. At first, I want to scratch it out, but the longer I stare at my reflection and those big black letters, I start to feel a little more like her and a little less like me.

The girl beside me, Ashlyn—as it says above her mirror—hands me a little silver tray covered in pills. “Take what you want, and pass it along,” she says without a second glance.

Crystal didn’t mention this part, and she’s not here to ask. Her chair’s still empty, and when the girl on my other side gives me an impatient glare, I pluck two off the tray and pass it to her.

I’m clutching the pills so hard in my hand, the color coating on one stains my skin. Opening my palm, I pick them off my skin and set them on the vanity. I have no intention of actually swallowing them.

“Rookies,” Ashlyn says. “Trust me, you want to take those. Actually, have one of these, too. You’ll thank me later.”

She adds a capsule to my two little circles and hands me a bottle of water. Still staring, she places a different combination of pills on her tongue and waits for me to do the same. My hands shake when I pick them up, and then I follow her lead and swallow mine just as she swallows her. I have no idea what I just ingested.

Crystal returns with my outfit just as the silver tray bypasses her chair. She doesn’t take any of the pills, and that makes me panic. I shouldn’t have listened to Ashlyn or let her pressure me. Since when have I cared about fitting in? I’m always the misfit, the oddball out, but for some reason, blending in here is even more important to me. Because, if these girls believe I’m Ariel, then the customers will, too.

By the time I get the costume on, my head’s foggy, and my vision is blurry. I can barely get my foot in the boots without falling over. Crystal mistakes the high for nerves and sits me back down.

“You can do this,” she tells me. “I’ll be on the other side of the curtain the entire time. And Ace won’t be far.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. Never once did I consider that Ace would be watching me take my clothes off. It’s bad enough that the rest of the bar will see, but him? That makes me feel dirtier than all the others combined.

Girl after girl, they file through the dressing room, onto the stage, and then back again. Some go more than one time, and others spend most of their time in the back room instead. Handfuls of cash get stuffed into purses and then locked up beneath their vanities. The drugs that got them started turn into drinks and then more pills.

Ashlyn sets two shots in front of me and says, “Drink up.”

Ten minutes later, she brings two more. My turn’s coming soon, and I don’t question it. My heart’s racing, and my mind is going a million miles an hour, but I tell myself that, if I drink enough and swallow one more pill, I’ll be too numb to feel anything at all. Regret won’t even exist.

“I need some air,” I say to whoever hears me as I slide off my stool, praying my boots hit the floor and I stay upright.

My forehead’s covered in sweat, yet my teeth are chattering. I’m on fire on the inside and freezing on the outside.

I know the way to the back door, yet somehow, I take a wrong turn and end up in the back room. The black lights mess with my head even more, and the disco ball makes it hard for me to focus on anything but the trippy lights swirling across faces.

Hands grip my waist and pull me back against a hard body.

“This one’s mine,” the gruff voice says.

I try to pry his hands off my body. Crystal’s words run through my mind. If you let one touch you, they’ll all expect the same. But I haven’t even gone on yet, and I’m afraid that, if I make this guy mad, they’ll laugh me off the stage.

Out of nowhere, Crystal appears, and she sees the panic on my face. She steps between me and the guy whom I can’t see, and then his hands are off me and on her.

“Get out of here!” she yells.

And I listen.

One door leads to another hallway, and then I recognize the kitchen. The fluorescent lights almost knock me on my ass, they’re so bright. Latching on to the counter, I use it as a guide until I’m near the fryers and then steps away from the back door.

It opens, and Jasper steps through. The tears start to fall, and I throw my arms around his neck. I’m so glad to see him. Little pieces of red hair cling to his white shirt, and I remember that I’m not Winnie right now. I’m still Ariel, and he doesn’t recognize me. If he did, he’d be so ashamed.

I hang my head and try to hide behind my hair like I always do.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

My voice would give me away, so I nod.

His glances at my outfit, and I can feel the second his eyes connect with the little bit of bare skin between the top of my jean skirt and the crop top. It’s the one area of my body I’m still not used to, the spot where I’m most self-conscious.

I’m not the only one who’s still not used to that spot because the second he sees it, his eyes grow wide, and he does a double take of my face. He tries so hard not to make the connection, but once he gets past the lashes and the bright red lips that match my hair, he sees it for himself. My scar, all jagged and ugly and still healing from surgery. I’m the only girl here who has been shot and has that kind of reminder plastered on her body. I should have had Crystal cover it up with some makeup.

“Winnie?” he says in shock. “Please tell me I’m seeing things.”

I’m still in denial, so I shake my head, avoiding speaking altogether. My voice is the only thing left he hasn’t deciphered.

“What the fuck are you doing, dressed like that?”

He grabs my arm so hard, I yelp in pain, and then I’m dragged down the hallway toward Ace’s office.

“Let go of me,” I tell him.

Any doubt he had disappears, and his fingers dig into my skin even harder. His strength is no match for my limbs made of jelly. I’m too high and drunk to put up any real fight.

Crystal must have gone looking for me after the incident in the back room because she closes Ace’s door, kicks Jasper right in the crotch, and frees me. Jasper falls to the floor in a heap. I mean to ask him if he’s okay, but Crystal jerks me back toward the dressing room and gives me a look, like I should know better than to wander around the place on my own, especially dressed like this.

“You’ll learn to stay where it’s safe, Ariel.”

My two worlds just collided, and I have no idea how to make it right with Jasper. He’s blowing up my phone with texts when I check it, begging me to respond. I can’t. I don’t know what to say. He’s used to Winnie, but tonight, I’m Ariel. And she has a job to do.

Instead of answering Jasper, I call Ace in his office and tell him to get his brother under control. I don’t wait for him to ask me questions. He knows what happened and probably figured it’d happen at some point tonight. Ace won’t let him ruin this for me.

After I hang up, I might be a little bit proud of myself. Winnie would have caved to Jasper and let him manhandle her until she backed down and gave up the fight. But Ariel doesn’t do that. She’s fearless.

I look at my reflection in the mirror, and I hate it less. Ariel’s not afraid of her own shadow. She’s everything I’m not, and I think I want to be her for a little while longer.