Page 59 of The Glass Girl

I’m not going to get out of this, so maybe if I just admit to some stuff, I can go home, do some therapy, and be done withit.

“Like my dad said,” I admit, “it’s been really hard this year. And I’ve been drinking some. My boyfriend broke up with me, and I’ve just…”

“He broke up with you because you drink too much, Bella,” Amber says flatly.

She’s looking at me head-on, and she’s mad and sad all at once, her face crinkling, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“You lie to everybody. All I’ve done is try to help you. I told you you had a problem and you, like, just blew it off. Just lied to me. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be your friend? To see you hungover all the time and be afraid to call you out because I’m afraid you won’t talk to me anymore? Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

“Amb—”

But she cuts me off. She can’t stop. “Do you even know what happened at that party? Do haveanyfreaking idea?” She’s fumbling in her bag. She pulls out her phone.

“Here. You want to see what happened when you werethat drunk?”

“Oh god,” my mother says. She covers her mouth with her hands.

The phone is shaking in Amber’s fingers. She’s shoving it at me.

I can’t breathe.

There’s me. Staggering, my face pale and sweaty and puffy. The sound on the video is a mix of music and chanting.Nip slip nip slip.

Snatches of memory come back to me. But are they real, or just because I’m watching this now?

Lemon’s phone. His voice cackling off-screen.Oh my god, she’s really going to do it.

Whistles.

Me, awkwardly unbuttoning my flannel, fumbling with the buttons, weaving toward him, raising the T-shirt underneath, pulling down one of my black bra cups. The crowd around me howling. My eyes look like they’re falling down my face. And suddenly there’s Dylan, swearing, trying to get the phone away from Lemon, his angry eyes right against the screen, and the phone flips and there’s Kristen, flashes of the red bows on her pigtails, trying to pull my shirt back together.

I can’t breathe.

I don’t remember any of that.

Oh my god everyone saw my body.

I remember the car ride, the too-sweet drink. Lemon’sfriend touching me. Dylan and Willow. That horrible sad feeling getting hot inside me, and then…nothing.

Nothing until the car. Voices. Holding the doorknob.

Falling.

My brain says:I’m sorry. I tried to hide this from you.

My dad grabs the phone from Amber. “Jesus Christ, how do we get this off here? My god. I’m pressing charges. Against those kids who dropped you off, the parents…Who leaves a house full of alcohol for teenagers?”

“You know what, Mr. Leahey?” Amber says angrily. “It’s that, sure, but they were shoulder-tapping outside stores, too. And that’s partly on me because I drove them. Because I didn’t want to lose my friends.”

Her voice breaks.

“And now you’ve almost died,” she says to me.

“Ididn’tdie,” I say defensively. “I’m still alive. I’m right here, and everyone hates me. I’ll stop, okay? I can go to therapy or whatever. Happy, everyone?”

My mother snatches the phone from my father and gives it back to Amber. “Put it away,” she says softly. “I’ve seen it. I don’t need to see that ever again.”

I cross my arms over my chest, my face blazing. Oh my god, how many people have seen that?

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