She sucked in a laugh as my index finger circled her belly button and the faint scar just above it. “What’s this from?” I asked. She peered down to see. “Oh . . . that. A navel ring.” I nearly choked. “What? Did you say a belly button ring? Rebel, rebel, Winnie Baker.” “For a full seven hours,” she said. “I was sixteen and Addison convinced me to pierce my navel with a sewing needle. But then it got red so quickly after, and I was terrified it was infected, and then I broke down and confessed it all to my parents. My dad was so mad he put my cell phone in his gun safe and my mom cried like I’d
...more
