Giving It Up by Amber Lin

affect her like this. Shelly was like a prey animal. Her problems never manifested in her appearance. If she looked like this, then things had truly gone to shit.
    “Shelly?”
    Her eyes slid away. She opened her mouth, to answer maybe, but then clapped a hand over it. Leaving the door open for us, she stumbled back through the hallway. The thud of the bathroom door punctuated her departure.
    I found Shelly curled up on her bed on top of the covers. Bailey tried to go to her, but I distracted her with a chunk of cake that would be hell to clean up later.
    I returned to the bedside. “Jesus, Shelly. Which one?”
    “Things just got out of hand,” she mumbled, her eyes closed.
    It had been a stupid question, because the answer didn’t matter. She could hardly go to the police. I’d been too afraid to ask the important question, but I asked it now. “How bad is it?”
    “Not bad.”
    I sighed. “Just tell me. I’m going to find out anyway.”
    She looked so thin. When she swaggered around, dressed provocatively and with that half smile, she looked every inch the femme fatale. But lying there, she seemed almost childlike. I reached for her, my hand hovering in the air as if she might break if I touched her. Except she’d already been broken. I gingerly pulled up her shirt to reveal angry, red welts that streaked the length of her back and down under her jeans. I’d seen them before, back when Shelly had first started in the life, before she had regulars to keep her safe.
    “He did this,” I said, my voice detached from my head as if I had a cold. I meant the one who liked to rough her up. I told her not to see him, and usually she didn’t take on clients like him, but there was something about him that kept her going back.
    “It wasn’t him. I took on a new client.”
    “Why? Why would you do that?”
    She gestured toward the nightstand, and I opened the drawer. On top of the mess of beauty products and a few books was a single white envelope. A thick one.
    I looked inside. Money, and lots of it.
    “Shit,” came out on my exhale.
    “Five thousand.” Pride colored her voice—I didn’t know whether that was a good sign or bad. Five thousand fucking dollars. That was ten times her regular nightly rate, as much money as she made in a month. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to work now for the next couple of weeks, with her back all torn up.
    “But why? We agreed you wouldn’t do shit like this. Christ, Shelly. You could have been really hurt. You are really hurt.”
    “It’s for the lawyer,” she said. “A retainer or some shit.”
    Oh, fuck. No.
    I threw the envelope into the open drawer, hundred dollar bills spilling out in a vulgar array.
    “We need a lawyer. You know that. You can’t run from this. Where would you go? A lawyer will figure this out. Make it right.”
    I couldn’t even think about that, not in the face of her gory sacrifice. “You did not do that for me. Tell me you didn’t do that.”
    She sighed like I was the irresponsible one. I wanted to rail at her, except she’d already been beaten, hadn’t she? And for me.
    I thought I’d known what my own stupidity would cost the people I loved, but I’d been wrong. My father had been doubtful of my future, but I’d cinched the deal when I’d ended up pregnant and alone. Parenting was a laughable term for the desperation with which I kept Bailey in generic-brand baby food.
    I’d even failed Jacob. No one understood, not even Shelly. He had lusted after me, wanted me, all that time, not that I’d deserved such devotion. I should have walked away from our friendship once I found out. Or maybe just sucked it up and been with him. Anything other than remain friends but without fucking him. That was my mistake.
    And that night. I’d done a million things wrong that night. I shouldn’t have worn that dress or hung out with him alone or stayed there with him when he’d been drinking. But most of all I shouldn’t have said no, because