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Martin is asleep beside me. His suit is still on, but his fly is open. I’m sure nothing happened. But I’m naked, so I’m not that sure. If anything did happen, it’s my fault for being such a drunken slut. I pull on my skirt and bra. I can’t find my underwear. Bad sign. Where’s my shirt?
    I find my shirt and my shoes in the living room. Kitty is asleep on the couch, spooned with a skinny man with a goatee. I think he was the one that brought out the coke. I didn’t do any, I don’t think. I wonder where Barrel is?
    It’s snowing, great big fat flakes. They’re melting when they land, but it’s too cold to go back to Dillon’s like this. I take a sweater from the floor. I think it’s Kitty’s. I’ll give it back. I pass the leather chair I puked on. It’s badly stained.
    I walk across town in my teetery heels. Some jerk-off in a pickup slows beside me and offers me a ride. I know what he’s after. I’m not that stupid. If only Dillon was here.
    “My boyfriend would beat the crap out of you if he was here.” I look at his license plate, but my head’s too foggy to remember the number.
    “Oh, your boyfriend, huh?” The man is older than Barrel, close to Rob’s age. He looks familiar, but maybe that’s because all slobby creeps look the same.
    “Yeah. That’s right, my boyfriend.”
    He laughs. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He drives off. I give him the finger.
    Do I still have a boyfriend? Did I cheat on him? He wouldn’t dump me for scabby-faced Erin, would he?
    I stand outside Dillon’s door for a minute before I knock. He hasn’t given me a key yet. He keeps forgetting to get another one cut. There’s no answer. Maybe he’s not there. His Jeep isn’t. Or maybe he’s just pretending not to be there. Maybe he’s in there with Erin. I pound harder. No answer.
    “Tuck?” If he’s in there, I’ll at least hear his tags jingle. I whistle. “Here, boy!”
    Nothing.
    I have nowhere else to go, so I go home and wait in the shed until Rob finally leaves. I go in through the basement window that doesn’t lock. I have a hot shower and then make myself the biggest meal I’ve had since I moved in with Dillon: bacon, eggs, toast and a stack of pancakes drenched with syrup and butter. I page Dillon every ten minutes or so. He doesn’t call. He’s dumped me. I know it. I don’t blame him. I wait for Rob to come home and plan how I’ll beg to be allowed to stay.

Chapter Fourteen
    Rob freaks out that I’m even in the house at all, so no, I’m not allowed to stay. He says I should be happy he’s not going to call the cops and have me arrested for break and enter. He says when I do come back with the money I stole, I damned well better bring his dog back too. That’s going to be harder than getting together two hundred dollars. I can’t imagine Dillon giving up Tuck. They go everywhere together now.
    I go to the mall and page Dillon a million times. He never calls. I go back to Barrel’s. Thank God only Kitty and another couple of girls are there. She says Barrel and Dillon took Erin to Kelowna to work. Personally, I think Erin would make a really bad drug mule. She seems stunned most of the time. I think she’s into heroin, but I don’t want to know, so I don’t ask. There are marks on her arms, though. If I find out Dillon ever slept with her, I’ll make him get tested for STDs. Mind you, if anything happened with me and that Martin creep, I should probably get tested too. Oh, so gross.
    Kitty’s letting me stay until Dillon and Barrel get back. She lends me some pajamas and we stay in all day and watch soap operas and talk shows. The other girls sleep all day and only come downstairs on their way out after dark.
    “Where are they going?” It’s snowing harder and is sticking to the ground now.
    “Work.”
    “Where do they work?”
    Kitty rolls her eyes. “At an all-night dry cleaners, you idiot.”
    How was I supposed to know that? Kitty says I can sleep in the big bed,