Raven's Return - Ruby Dixon Page 0,66

of me if you knew the truth, so I've been pretending to be…a little more granola than I actually am." I take a deep breath. "The truth is, I'm a stripper."

It gets really quiet around the camp. Like, if the ice planet had crickets, they'd be chirping right about now.

R'jaal is the first one to speak up. "You…strip the bark from trees?"

I laugh, but it's a little hysterical. "No, nothing to do with trees. I take my clothes off for money." Right. U'dron gave me the blank stare, too, so I should keep explaining. "If a guy doesn't have a mate, he can go and watch me take my clothes off to…pleasure himself. It's different back home, where everyone is dressed all the time. This is me getting naked…to please men. They give me money to dance, and I use that money to buy things like food and clothing." My stomach is tied up in knots, all the spicy food I just ate sitting like a brick in my gut. "I didn't say anything because everyone here seems like they had a good life back at home. You're college students or people with nice, normal jobs…and then there's me. I didn't think I would fit in, so I kinda leaned into the whole 'Raven' situation. Raven's my stage name. I'd put on a black wig and some heavy eye makeup and my stage persona was goth. I'd dance to Marilyn Manson or Nine Inch Nails. My real name is Louise. And I'm not really a hippie. At least, my mom was and I knew a lot about the lifestyle, so I just kinda…borrowed it. And—"

"R'ven," U'dron says gently.

Right. I'm babbling. I suck in a breath and close my eyes. It's just that…the silence is so damning. I wait, the seconds ticking past slowly.

Someone clears their throat. "I don't see a problem?" It's Sam, her voice calm and rational. "I worked at a wing place that had us wear tight shirts and short shorts. The money was really damn good."

I could kiss her. I'm not a crybaby, but I want to weep out of sheer joy just for her support. I open my eyes and she flashes me a supportive smile and a thumbs-up.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Flor says. "She can work at a titty bar. She's a damn adult. There's nothing wrong with that."

"That's right," another person says. Daisy. She beams a smile in my direction, ever-sunny.

"I'm sorry if you felt like you wouldn't be accepted," Willa adds in her sweet southern voice. "I don't feel like it's a big deal at all."

There's a low murmur of assent and several people nodding.

"It's fine, girlfriend," Callie adds. "I mean, it's not like you're a criminal."

The smile on my face disappears. It feels like a punch in the gut.

The camp goes quiet again.

"Shit," Callie says.

The looks are now wide eyed and a little concerned. Angie holds her baby a little tighter, and I don't blame her. I could be a murderer or a child thief. Time to get it all out in the open before things get worse. "I can explain." I press my hands to my forehead, trying to calm myself. Nah. Better to just blurt it all out and get it over with. "See, I said my mom was a hippie, but what I should have said was that she was kicked out of the commune she lived in because she was strung out on drugs all the damn time. If my mom had a dollar to her name, she'd use it for drugs. Everything she earned went up her damn nose, and when it wasn't enough, she started stealing. That's how we got kicked out of the commune. She was a real mess and the only way I had enough to eat was to go to school or to steal it. I spent most of my time as a kid in juvie back and forth because I'd get picked up for shoplifting. Didn't graduate high school—I dropped out. By the time I turned eighteen, I had a record and a reputation, and that worked against me. I lost my temper and found out my boyfriend was cheating on me, so I might have stolen his car and drove it into a tree." I bite my nail, wrinkling my nose. "I was a stupid seventeen-year-old and I got two years in jail. No one wants to hire a nineteen-year-old with a rap sheet, so I worked