“I like him, sure. I’d like someone to go with to all the fun senior shit this year, duh, but I don’t feel the need to have to be a bitch to harmless people to make that happen.” My brows jump. “You want to sit here and pretend to know me so well, but if you think for a second, I’m the type who will become what she thinks someone else wants in order to gain, you’re wrong. What purpose would it serve to have him if I can’t even be me?” I ask, but not for a reply. “If he doesn’t like me the way I am, oh fucking well.”

Pretty sure he might though, dick!

I don’t tell him that.

Nico glares, but yet again, there’s an unexpected change in him.

Suddenly, his eyes are less sure, of what, I can’t even pretend to understand.

In the next second the timer on my phone goes off, and I shoot from the chair, eager to get the hell out of here. “We need to go back down, there’s only ten minutes left, and Mr. Brando might start looking for us.”

He doesn’t move, his gaze dark and measuring.

Finally, he pushes to his feet, stepping toward me until he’s directly in front of me, my entire body wrapped in a shadow of his own.

He stands there, blank faced with a heavy fog of vexation surrounding him, making it hard to breathe.

Nico remains closed-lipped for a solid thirty seconds, and then finally he slips past, his chest brushing mine with carelessness as he does.

Only when the scrape of the brick across the cement finds my ears do I realize I’m frozen where he left me.

A ragged exhale leaves me, and I clear my throat as I step through the frame, leaving him to follow.

I jolt when the door slams behind me, Nico on the opposite side.

I take my time driving home, putting a frozen casserole in the oven for dinner the minute I step inside, and then get busy with my homework.

I’ve already eaten and am finishing up my weekend assignments when the front door opens and shuts downstairs, my mom’s voice easily heard as she argues with someone on the phone.

Why is she home?

It’s just after eight when she gets here, but the knock on my door doesn’t come for another twenty minutes.

“It’s unlocked,” I call out, already dreading her entry.

My mom opens the door, glancing around the room before her eyes fall on me sitting in my window seat, surrounded by textbooks and papers.

She walks in, picks up the remote to my TV and turns it off.

“Always studying.” She links her hands in front of her.

I swear, she’s the hardest woman to please. She wants me to be Miss Socialite and the future fucking President while having no clue which she wants more.

If I didn’t get all this out of the way now, then I’d be forced to do it at the beach sometime this weekend.

“Hi to you, too,” I mock, looking back to my paper.

“Oh, stop. I saw you before school yesterday.”

Because that’s enough for us both.

She moves closer to my bookshelf, running her finger across it and frowning at the dust. “I was thinking about this party of Krista’s.”

My brain freezes mid-word and I lift my eyes to her.

She raises her chin. “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea you go.”

I set my notebook beside me, turning to face her better.

Really? She’s doing this without an audience?

“We leave in less than twelve hours and you already said I could.”

“Well, I’m rethinking my answer. I’m your mother, I’m allowed.”

“But, why?”

“For one, I didn’t realize Monday was a furlough day, giving you guys extra time off. Three days is a lot for kids to be running around unsupervised. God knows what will happen there.”

You don’t even know what goes on here!

“You know Krista’s dad is extra cautious, there will be security all over the place, and he’ll be right down the street.”

“Still.” She reaches past me, closing my curtains and cutting off the view I had of the stars. “I have concerns. It’s not like you have someone to watch and protect you.”

My face scrunches. “Is that not the purpose of security?”

“Don’t be cunning. Don’t you think it’s strange that you’re a senior, you hardly date, and you’re always home?”

I want to ask her how she would know but decide against it. “No. I don’t.”

“Well, I do. You have a pretty face, fit body, and great grades,” she sums me up with little to no passion. “You need an arm to hold on to.”

“Says the person who constantly reminds me I never want to have to depend on anyone and not to make her same mistake and get pregnant in high school.”

She blinks. “Birth control is your friend, daughter. It’s why you’ve been on it since sophomore year, and there is a difference between needing someone and having someone. You should never need, but you should have what would suit you well.” She pretends to be focusing on my trophy case. “I spent some time with Clara tonight.”

Clara, being Trent’s mom.

Of course.

I shake my head, knowing exactly what she was going to say. “Don’t start with this again.”

“We don’t understand why you and Trent aren’t together, is all.”

“Because we don’t like each other.”

“Relationships don’t always begin that way, Demi.”

I gape at her. “I’m pretty sure they do.”

“Well, I think it’s time you reconsider. Spend some time with him.”

I jump to my feet. “He’s dating one of my best friends!”

“And your best friend, as you call her, is a harlot of a girl who is going nowhere in life and doesn’t deserve him. She’ll end up forced to join her parents in real estate.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, if you want to gamble on the market to protect your future.”

“Her parents do well.”

“And Trent’s own an airline. Tell me how that girl is better suited for him than you?”

My mouth drops open, but nothing comes out, so I shake my head instead.

She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

Krista is smart and gorgeous; she’s kind and respectful to her parents, wants to be a teacher and a mother, and doesn’t give a damn about the money her dad has. Does she enjoy spending it? Yes, but what seventeen – eighteen in days – wouldn’t when their father is willing to allow them to?

Not to mention, she was a virgin when she slept with Trent – not a harlot!

My mom is an asshole and has no room to talk.

She purses her lips. “I will let you go to this party, but I’m going to ask that maybe you and Trent take a little walk or try and get a few minutes alone.”

She’s a fucking nut.

“You don’t have to take it further, but this is your last year of school, and at some point, he’s going to leave her because he knows she’s not what he needs, and when that happens it needs to be you he thinks of, especially before you two end up at schools on opposite ends of the country.”

I move for my door, holding it open so she gets the hint I want her to leave. “I won’t, and you should stop saying things like this. All you’re going to do is make it awkward when I’m around him because I’ll feel guilty the entire time when I have no reason to. We’re friends, and if you want us to at least be that, then leave it alone.”