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Hannah handed me another drink—this time, a fruity concoction—and I downed it in seconds.

For the next thirty minutes, we practiced my new sexy walk and toothy smile.

Heels were a new addition to my wardrobe, but I only tripped a couple times.

Once I mastered my new style, she gave me pointers on how to make the guys want to give a ten or even twenty-dollar tip instead of a single.

“Use your curves, stand too close, smile too wide. If you think you’re being too forward, be even more forward. But, whatever you do, don’t directly ask for anything. These guys can read women like a book. If you want something from them, hint.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Listen, it’s weird at first, I get it. But look at it this way. I just bought a brand-new car with the cash I’ve made here. Brit told you about my apartment, right? I paid six months up front. In cash. Trust me, this job is worth it. You’ll be free in no time. I promise.”

Loose, a little dizzy, and ready to mingle, my head buzzed, and my steps met the rhythm of the music on the jukebox.

I followed Hannah’s lead, smiled, and flirted while taking orders.

The first few interactions were uncomfortable, but Hannah reminded me that I could be anyone I wanted to be while I worked. No one knew me.

It took some time to get used to the G-string and I found myself pulling at the hem of my too-short skirt. Men gaped at my body, though. The thought of them wanting me, that I turned them on, was exciting. Invigorating.

All my inhibitions disappeared with the next shot.

Just as Hannah suggested, I smiled too large and stood too close.

Close enough for the men to take in the scent of my perfume.

One of them actually growled as he reached for me.

I backed away and waved my index finger at him.

When I delivered his drink, he called me a tease.

“I’m John. What’s your name, sweetheart? ”

“Kennedy, but I like sweetheart,” I flirted .

When I staggered home that night with two hundred dollars in my pocket, I couldn’t hide my smile.

Men hitting on me and putting their grimy paws on my ass wasn’t nearly as bad as my imagination let me think it would have been.

Flirting with the older men had actually been kind of fun; the attention boosted my confidence.

As long as they didn’t try anything with me, I was just fine. I could do this.

The next night, Hannah told me what I could expect from certain regulars.

The men paid her to look pretty and act like they turned her on.

She showed me how to do a little dance and take off my clothes in a way that made the men want me.

At first, I was hesitant, but I figured if she could do it, I could, too.

We did a couple shots and practiced until I looked comfortable.

No one was allowed to touch me; I could touch them, though.

If I wanted to. When they sat on the couch, they would sit on their hands to quash the urge.

“Sometimes, if I really like a guy, or they’re a regular that I dance for all the time, I’ll let them grab my ass or touch my boobs.

Bigger tips.” Hannah winked. “Better car.”

So, if someone wanted to be alone, I led them to the couch in the back room and pulled the curtain. Brittany and I spent most of our time watching the latest videos and dancing as if we were in them, so I knew shaking my butt and moving to the music wouldn’t be a problem.

It’s the taking off my clothes part that bothered me a little. But, honestly, only a little. We were in private, and I could close my eyes and pretend I was alone. Who knew making this kind of cash could be so easy?

LIFE CHANGED on my seventeenth birthday. After school, I blew out the candle on a store-bought cupcake at home with Nathan and Emily, then walked through a foot of snow to work.

Contentment took over; for the first time in my life, I didn’t need to worry about my next meal or if we would have heat through the winter. My mom didn’t ask how I could afford to buy new shoes and coats for my siblings or even thank me for the new robe I got her for her birthday.

I bounced through the door an hour before my shift with a skip in my step.

My usual drink and two shots were lined up on the bar.

Willy, the bartender, poured a third shot.

“Happy birthday, Special K.” I smiled and threw it back without a second thought.

Everyone thought I was nineteen, so I decided I had better act as if I was.

Hannah waited for me in the back room, a gift bag on the makeup table.

“Awe, you shouldn’t have.” Gifts are one of my favorite things, ever. Gifts and pizza. I peeked in the bag and found something fluffy. Something soft like rabbit fur brushed across my fingertips. I gasped, “You didn’t.”

“I did. You’ve talked about wearing something cashmere for months. Happy birthday. You deserve it.”

Tears stung my eyes as I hugged my friend. “Thank you.” She had officially made my day. No one could ruin my mood.

Until they did.

“Yeah” by Usher blared from the jukebox as I wound my way between tables to pick up the next order at the bar.

Each beat matched the sway of my hips, I winked at Willy, and he poured me another Lemon Drop.

He laughed at my scrunched face as I sucked the lemon.

He laughed harder when I flipped him off.

“Hey, stranger.” I hadn’t seen John in a couple of weeks. At one point he told me all about how his job took him out of town for long periods of time—something about fishing—but I didn’t really care.

He looked me up and down as I placed his regular order—a beer and a shot—on the high-top table. I brushed his arm with my breast, and he groaned under his breath—I smirked. As much as I liked how much money I was making, I enjoyed the responses from the men more.

His friend lifted his chin and smiled; he looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Even though he was probably old enough to be my dad, I still flirted.

His white teeth gleamed in the dim light and his dark brown, almost black eyes danced as they roamed over my body. I turned to take his order and "accidentally” rubbed my behind across his hand which rested on his leg. From the look on his face, I instantly understood a large tip was in my future.

“How’s my favorite girl, tonight?” A wink accompanied John’s slurred words.

“Better now that you’re here.” I blew him a kiss.

“My boss wanted to see why I smile more on Thursday’s, so I decided to show him.”

My long hair hung over my shoulders, covering most of my chest. Men loved when I brushed it back to show a tight spaghetti string crop top which barely contained my breasts. Until then, they both hid like scared children. “Nice to meet you.”

When men reached for me, but realized that they couldn't touch, I liked it. I liked the way it made me feel to know someone wanted me. John’s friend ran his hand from the back of my leg and over my ass on his way to pick up the shot glass.

I didn’t stop him—it was the best way to get more than a dollar tip.

“Take a load off, gorgeous. Stay a while.” John offered a sip of his beer.

“Sorry, sweetie. It’s too busy to chat tonight.” I glanced toward the back room and raised an eyebrow. John tipped better for drinks when I gave him lap dances, so I led him to believe he wanted to spend his ten minutes behind the curtain. He smiled and stood.

“WHAT SONG do you want to start with tonight?” I asked as John took his place on the couch.

“Kiss.”

My favorite and he knew it. I smiled and provoked him with my swaying hips as I pushed B13 on the personal jukebox.

More of my favorites would follow: D02, G16, and A04.

Five minutes into our session, I was at the point in my routine where I straddled my customer’s knees, bent at the waist, and shoved his face between my exposed perfect C cups.

John’s boss entered the room and pulled the curtain back. His radiant smile turned into a devious grin; his eyes darkened the minute he saw my bare ass surrounded by straps of the thong. I swear I heard him growl. Old guys were easy to please.

It’s not unusual for friends to want a double dance, but we didn’t approve unless Hannah and I went back together.

That way we could kind of tag team while keeping each other safe.

Everyone knew and abided by these rules.

And we only agreed to doubles when Yasmine worked so she could still serve the customers.

By the end of my first night, it was clear she stayed in the front room.

Tonight, however, Yasmine had called in sick.

I crawled on John’s lap, held his gaze, and covered his hands with mine as they squeezed my breasts.

I spoke to his boss, “Sorry, hon. One at a time.” My sweet tone sang above the beat of the music.

It wasn’t the first time I had to refuse a double.

When he didn’t turn around, I strengthened my voice and shrugged. “Bar rules, babe.”

Two steps later, the stone-faced older man stood behind me and above John.

I rose on my knees only to find resistance on my hips. John held me in place, never taking his eyes off mine. My stomach turned and in a shaky voice, I begged, “John. Please. Let me go.”

“Oh, but we’re not done with our songs, K.” He lifted one eyebrow.

“You know we’re only allowed one at a time back here. Please. Let me go.” I tried to wriggle out of his grip; he slapped my ass hard, and I stilled.

“Don’t tell me you never break the rules. How old are you, again?” The way he stared into my eyes told me he knew I was too young to work at the bar. “You wouldn’t want your boss to find out your real age, now, would you? Little girl.”

Stunned, I relented. John held me in place and unzipped his pants.

Too scared to move, I remained still as he forced himself inside me. “No.” Tears streamed down my face as dizziness flooded through me. As he had sex with my body, I felt like I was in the middle of a dream—more like a nightmare.

When he finished, he pushed me away and his boss wrapped an arm around my waist.

“Stop. Please.” It came out as a whisper; they didn’t hear me. If they did, they would have listened. Wouldn’t they? “Stop.” The words were audible the second time.

John’s evil grin gave me chills. “You know you love it.” He squeezed my breasts, hard this time. I whimpered. “She’s all yours, Gus.”

Stubble from a day-old beard scratched my cheek as Gus held me tight against him. “Baby, if you know what’s best, you’ll hush.”

Numb, I found myself bent over the arm of the couch with an old guy ramming me from behind. Pain flooded my entire body. I cried and begged them to stop. The more I spoke, the louder I got; I had found my voice and just wanted to escape.

“Relax, now. I don’t want to have to get rough with you.” Gus forced me onto the couch and smiled, suddenly ugly. “Now gimme some sugar.”

I knew if I fought them, it would only get worse. I hushed and eventually they finished.

Tears smeared my makeup. I forced myself to stop crying and cleaned myself up. In a fog, I dressed in slow motion, not believing what had just happened. Hannah had told me sex wasn’t allowed, just dancing. She said it was okay. I believed her.

I didn’t do a very good job straightening my hair and I’m pretty sure my shirt was inside out, but I couldn’t care. Money littered the jukebox table, and I pushed it in my purse; what I had just endured, you better believe I would take the bills.

I told Willy I wasn’t feeling well as I rushed out the front door; he was oblivious.

His conversation with one of his fishing buddies was evidently more important than me.

Besides, business had died down and Hannah could handle the rest of the night alone.

She had been on the opposite side of the room getting close with some guys in one of the booths, so she didn’t see me leave.

I didn’t realize I had left my gift until after I made it home.

If other customers had a clue of what happened while Hannah or I disappeared, they didn’t let on.

Of course, Willy was in on it; when someone asked how to get one of us alone, he set up the connection.

He had always been kind and seemed to care.

After what happened though, I wondered if Willy knew exactly what went on behind the curtain.

Before my seventeenth birthday, I only danced for the customers.

Some of them wanted more, they had been clear, but Hannah had given me the best tips on how to turn them down and keep them interested at the same time.

Now it seemed obvious she had been in the same position before. I wondered if she had ever been raped.