Free Scars from a Memoir by Marni Mann

Sada blurted out, “Why didn't you tell me you were a junkie?”
    “Would it have made a difference?”
    Her stare hardened and her lip curled.
    “I didn't tell you because I didn't want to see that look on your face—the one you're showing right now.” I stood up straight and clenched my fists in a ball. “Plus, it's none of your business.”
    “It isn't my business? I invited you over to my apartment and brought you around my friends. I trusted that you were normal. That you wouldn't…you know, steal from them like all you junkies do.”
    I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My ears literally burned from her stupidity.
    “Have I ever done anything to make you believe I'm not trustworthy? I'm dating one of your friends, and he thinks I'm good enough.”
    “Asher's an idiot to be dating someone like you. I thought he was better than that. I guess I was wrong.”
    “Better than what? You? I saw you snorting coke that night at his apartment, you goddamn hypocrite. How dare you stand here and judge me.”
    She grabbed my arm and pushed up my sleeve. I could have pulled away. I didn't. I wasn't proud of my scars, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let her make me feel bad about them.
    Her stare traveled over my forearm, up my chest, and penetrated my eyes. “Just like I thought. Track marks everywhere. With all the men you've screwed for drugs, you're probably loaded with diseases. Stay the hell away from me, you junkie whore.”
    I wasn't going to fight with her or bother separating the lies she said from the truth. I didn't trust my voice. I knew if I opened my mouth, my tone would turn high-pitched and my lips would quiver.
    She tied her apron around her waist and pushed up her padded bra. “Don't worry, I won't tell all our coworkers that you're a slut. I'll just tell them you're a heroin addict who got your brother murdered.” She pranced down the hallway toward the front.
    I went into Al's office and asked if we could talk. He was going to find out soon enough; he might as well hear it from me. Mark had already told him about my brother and how he'd died, so I filled him in on what he didn't know: how Sada had introduced me to the twins,their connection to Michael, and the fight I'd just had with her. “I'm sure Sada's telling everyone right now,” I said. “I don't want them to look down on you for hiring me.”
    He leaned forward in his chair, closing the space between us. “I met Jami at AA, and the guys who work in the kitchen were in rehab with me. Trust me, none of them will look down on either of us.”
    The knot in my stomach started to settle.
    “If she says a word to anyone, she'll be gone,” he said.
    “I didn't come in here to get her fired,” I said, gripping the edge of his desk.
    “I know you didn't, but she's constantly late and always has an attitude. When she starts talking about other people's business, that's the final straw.” He briefly checked his watch. “There's an AA meeting going on just a few blocks up the street. If you leave right now, you'll have time to share. I don't want you to come back until your head is clear.”
    He gave me the address, and just as I got to the door, he said my name. I turned around.
    “All of us here have worked too damn hard to stay sober; we don't deserve to be judged.”

    *   *   *

    When I got back to the café, Jami ran out from behind the counter and pulled me into her arms. She was even taller than Asher, so I had to turn my head so my face wouldn't land in her chest.
    “That bitch is gone,” she said. “She started talking crap about you, so I went into Al's office and had her taken care of.”
    Jami must not have known I'd spoken to Al. I was sure her push had helped, but he'd sounded like he was looking for any reason to get rid of Sada.
    “Welcome to the family, girl,” she said. “I know we go to different meetings, me being in AA and all, but if you ever want to come with me, you just tell me, OK?”
    I squeezed her a