“Trust is like a mirror—you can fix it if it’s broken, but you can still see the crack in that motherfucker’s reflection,” I say, and close my eyes, willing the room to stop spinning. Abby laughs. “Did you just quote Lady Gaga?” “Don’t judge me, Abby. I was born this way,” I mumble through my drunken stupor. “Oh my God, I think I love drunk Eve.”