Chapter 2

"He just went to sleep?"

"Yeah." I lean back on the couch and lift my face to the ceiling, the scene replaying itself in my head all over again. "Fell asleep and snored for hours. I didn't know what to do, so I just lay there until the sun started to come up. Then I snuck out." I sigh. "Man never even moved."

"That's insane," Amanda says, giggling a little. "I've had guys do some pretty crazy things, but never had one fall asleep."

I shake my head, running my damp palms against the legs of my jeans. "I don't know how you do it, but I can't. Just the thought of all the things that could have happened..." I groan softly. "I've spent years avoiding these kinds of situations and here I am, willingly putting myself in the position where a guy could..." I stop again, not interested in saying the words that were running through my mind.

"It's not like that," Amanda repeats, words she's said over and over since she first suggested I go to work with her at Janelle's months ago. "All the guys I work with are generally grateful to get the attention of a pretty girl."

"This guy didn't seem like he was the type to have trouble getting attention from a girl."

"Handsome?"

I shrug. "That's beyond the point."

"Yeah, well, you should see some of the old guys they send me to visit." She grunts softly. "You have no idea, Abril. I honestly thought all the clients were over fifty and ugly as sin."

She giggles and I just shake my head. "It doesn't matter what he looks like. I just can't do it anymore. Once was more than enough."

Amanda is quiet for a moment, her eyes drifting around the small, cluttered space of my efficiency apartment. "He paid you well," she comments. "Enough that old man Ferguson didn't throw you out."

That is true. When I checked my bank account five days after the date, I was shocked to see the huge deposit Janelle's had placed in my account. And that was after removing thirty percent. It was enough to pay four months on my car and get caught up on my rent. And still there was some left, enough to allow me relief from the stress of wondering if my paycheck would cover all my bills for the next three months.

"I'm glad it works for you," I tell Amanda. "It's just not my cup of tea."

Amanda nods, a little sadness in her blue eyes as she slowly unfolds herself from the couch. "I get it," she says softly. "I know it isn't for everyone. But I figure...I'm going to date anyway. I'm going to go party with some guy who picks me up in a bar. So why not get paid for it, right?" Her ponytail bounces as she walks to the door. "You've always landed on your feet. You'll be okay."

I nod. "I will."

She smiles, but the sadness never really leaves her eyes. I watch her go, sad for her that she feels like this is the best she can do for herself, even sadder to finally fully realize the kind of danger she's placing herself in every night. I imagine her with a man who isn't as odd and gentle as the man I found myself with. I imagine her in a bed with someone she doesn't want, but unable to say no. My heart hurts for her.

Amanda is the closest thing I will ever have to a sister. We met in foster care and spent years on the run, struggling to make ends meet alone. We survived, mostly because of Amanda's courage and street smarts. We more than survived. I wouldn't have gone to college if not for Amanda. I wouldn't be where I am if Amanda hadn't been there for me, if she hadn't fought for me and taught me everything I needed to know to survive. I hurt for her because I was supposed to get a great job and lift us both out of the gutter once college was over, but here I am, still struggling.

I owe her so much. Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to give up.

***

I glance at my cellphone, annoyed that it keep buzzing against my thigh. We're not supposed to have cellphone in the classrooms, but everyone keeps them. If I get caught with it out, though...

It's a text message from Janelle. She's been sending me a text every few days, telling me the guy I'd gone out with wanted to see me again. She keeps offering me so much money to do it again. She says I'm the only girl he wants to see. It's ridiculous, the persistence. But this message is different. It says: 'Watch your back. Trouble is circling.' I have no idea what she means by that.

Amanda told me once that Janelle has a whole list of coded messages she makes the girls learn in case of problems. She taught me a few before my first date, like 'Target is redhanded,' a message that will bring help if a client gets violent. But I never bothered to learn all of them. I don't even know why Janelle would send me this text since I quit over a month ago now.

I step out of the bathroom and am instantly surrounded by the two-year-olds who are headed into my classroom for their art lesson. I quickly drop to my knees, the message forgotten as I crawl around with the kids and cover them all in tiny aprons so we can dig into our puff-paint project. The two-year-olds, and then the three-year-olds and the preschoolers who quickly follow, are all I can think about until hours later, totally exhausted, my shift ends and I walk out of the daycare center to find two police officers standing near my car.

"Can I help you?" I ask as I approach, fear creeping up from my tummy to my chest. One of the cops looks up, a tall man with a military haircut. He looks me over, his eyes lingering on the front of my paint-stained t-shirt.

"Are you Abril Martinez?"

A sense of dread joins the fear that now has cold fingers wrapped around my heart. "Yes," I say with as much confidence as I can muster. "What do you want with me?"

"We need you to come with us."

I shake my head. I know my rights. "Do you have a warrant?"

"Do we need one?" military cut asks, a slight leer to his expression.

"You're not being arrested," the other cop says, a smaller man with blond hair. "But we do need you to come with us to the station."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Do you have a friend named Amanda Pierce?"

That's when the strange text message came rushing back to me. Amanda's in trouble. I hold up my hands and walk toward them, giving up any semblance of fight. Amanda needs me. That's all I need to know.