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A captivating and powerful exploration of the opioid crisis—the deadliest drug epidemic in American history—through the eyes of a college-bound softball star. Edgar Award-winning author Mindy McGinnis delivers a visceral and necessary novel about addiction, family, friendship, and hope.
When a car crash sidelines Mickey just before softball season, she has to find a way to hold on to her spot as the catcher for a team expected to make a historic tournament run. Behind the plate is the only place she’s ever felt comfortable, and the painkillers she’s been prescribed can help her get there.
The pills do more than take away pain; they make her feel good.
With a new circle of friends—fellow injured athletes, others with just time to kill—Mickey finds peaceful acceptance, and people with whom words come easily, even if it is just the pills loosening her tongue.
But as the pressure to be Mickey Catalan heightens, her need increases, and it becomes less about pain and more about want, something that could send her spiraling out of control.
421 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 12, 2019
I am not a wasted person. I am not prowling the streets. I am not an addict. I am a girl spinning her locker combination. I am a girl who got a B on her math test. I am a girl who has two holes on the inside of her arm, but they do not tell the whole story of me.
When I wake up, all my friends are dead.
I admit to myself that I am a heroin user, while also updating in my mind what that actually means. I am not a wasted person. I am not prowling the streets. I am not an addict. I am a girl spinning her locker combination. I am a girl who got a B on her math test. I am a girl who has two holes on the inside of her arm, but they do not tell the whole story of me.
come to my blog!!I did not watch my friends die.
I did not leave their bodies cooling in a basement.
I am not an addict.

I'm doing it so that my teammates aren't exchanging worried looks when I limp past them in the hallway. Yes, I manage to tell myself as I sink my teeth into a bread stick, I'm not taking Oxy because it makes me feel good.
I'm taking it for other people.
Mom would blame herself for not seeing it. Dad would feel guilty for not being here to notice. [...] Coach would be done with me, since our school has a zero-tolerance drug policy. I imagine the harsh cutoff of Mom’s laughter when I tell her, the collapse of each face as they flood with disappointment.
Or I can reach for the bottle, knowing that one pill can fix it, restore my balance and put my skin back in the right place and realign my bones, my feet planted firmly on the ground in the morning. Those are my choices. I can derail the lives of everyone I care about, or I can take one white pill and make it all better.
When you think about it that way, it’s easy.
Except now, if I keep using it’s not because I’m fighting off an injury or for some noble self-sacrifice to keep the team going strong so Carolina can shine. If I keep using now, it’s because I want to.
And yeah, I want to. [...]
Because if I’m an addict I might as well go ahead and just be one.
Fuck it.
Opioids treat pain, yes, but they also allow the user a sense of relief and peace, something that people suffering from mental and emotional trauma are in deep need of. The ease of a trapdoor out of a sometimes cruel reality proves too tempting for many.




I admit to myself that I am a heroin user, while also updating in my mind what that actually means. I am not a wasted person. I am not prowling the streets. I am not an addict. I am a girl spinning her locker combination. I am a girl who got a B on her math test. I am a girl who has two holes on the inside of her arm, but they do not tell the whole story of me.