Beautiful by Amy Reed

says, and the vodka gets stuck in my throat, gagging me, pulling everything inside me out.
    â€œWe have the same mom,” she says. “But Sarah’s dad was some guy my mom had an affair with so my dad made my mom get rid of her.”
    â€œOh,” I manage, trying not to throw up, trying to make sense of what Alex just said.
    â€œNow the stupid social workers say she has to come live with us even though we don’t want her.”
    â€œOh,” I say again because I can’t think of anything else. I’m not anywhere near drunk, but my stomach feels like it’s full of poison, like there’s a fist inside moving it around. I am doing everything I can to keep from puking. I am clenching my teeth, my fists. I am walking fast. I am thinking of summer and beaches and sun on my face.
    We crest the hill and see Lake Washington, dark and choppy, Seattle sparkling behind it. We get closer and can see the shadowed group of boys, none of whom I recognize.
    â€œWho are those guys?” I ask.
    â€œHigh schoolers.”
    I want to turn around. The vodka’s not working. I drink more and it’s still not working.
    â€œWhere’s Ethan?” I ask.
    â€œRight there.” Alex points and he is lit by moonlight, standing on top of a bench in his baggy pants and giant sweatshirt, balancing on it like a tightrope. We get closer and I can hear the other boys cheering him on. I feel something in my stomach that is not nausea, a pleasant, heavy numbness. The fear is not gone, but it is somehow softer.
    A tall boy with a pierced lip turns around and looks us up and down. “What do we have here?” he says. Ethan hops off the bench and smiles and the numbness turns to melting.
    â€œHi,” he says to me, ignoring Alex. “I’m glad you came.”
    â€œYeah,” I say.
    â€œDo you want to sit down?” He motions toward the bench covered with his dirty footprints. I sit and he sits next to me and everyone else sits and soon we are all in a circle, and Alex is passing around the bottle of vodka and it is getting emptier and emptier and I am suddenly very angry. I am furious.
That is
our
vodka
, I want to tell her. They are drinking it and it will be gone and there won’t be enough for me.
    Everyone’s talking except me. I drink extra when the bottle comes around so I won’t think about the fact that I’m not talking. It does not take long for me to get drunk enough so my mind does not have to be here anymore. I am thinking of tropical islands and warm water and I feel okay even though I’m sitting here with a bunch of high schoolers and I haven’t said anything in thirty minutes. I haven’t been paying attention to what anyone’s been saying because I’ve been somewhere else, and all of a sudden everyone but me is up and Alex is screaming because the guys are carrying her over to the embankment and threatening to throw her into the lake.
    â€œHey,” says Ethan, and I think he’s going to save her, although I wouldn’t mind if he didn’t. And I’m surprised at this thought and I look around to make sure no one heard it, but everyone’s laughing and not at me. “It’s time to go,” he says, and he’s the boss so they let her go. She’s laughing like she was in on the joke, but I don’t think she was. Ethan gets up and I am suddenly very cold. They all grab their backpacks and skateboards and I’m relieved but feeling pathetic, and I want to crawl into a little ball and hide in a cave and never come out, not until I’m old and all of this is done with.
    I am sitting on the bench, and Alex is standing by the water, and everyone else is walking away. Ethan hangs back and sits back down next to me. “It was nice seeing you tonight,” he says with his soft lips and long eyelashes, like he didn’t even notice that the only thing I said all night was “yeah.”
    â€œYou