Chapter 11

I realize, suddenly, I don’t like being drunk anymore. I only ever drank with Jake because I knew he would take care of me and my little bubble of bravado, well and truly pops. I hate being in a bar, without my protector, surrounded by strange men who stare and sleaze over the women around them. I’m vulnerable and emotional. The last thing I should’ve done was come here and get drunk. I feel so powerless and small.

Now I’ve started this monsoon of depressed feelings. I can’t seem to switch it off. I watch Leila for a moment and see, almost with new eyes, how the men around the bar are looking up her dress, checking out her ass, practically drooling with every little movement she makes. Male eyes check out every girl that walks by, all with the same leering stare and licking of lips. Like animals searching out prey, and it sickens me.

I feel nauseous, so aware now of how awful this is. We’ve left ourselves vulnerable in a lion’s pit, too drunk to function and take care of