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don’t waste your time on things that don’t mean something to you. You care, too much sometimes, and that is why you think and rethink every decision. You are afraid to experience pain, hurt, and rejection . . . all normal things. But you refuse to put yourself in a situation you will have to confront those feelings, so you disengage. That is why I warned you to be careful. If you put yourself out there for Jake, it matters to you. Just how much or in what capacity is something only you can answer.”
    I mull over her answer and just can’t wrap my head around why I let my guard down and confronted this thing with Jake. “Hey Krista, don’t you ever miss just watching cartoons and eating ice cream until we puked. Things were so easy without hormones, boys, men, and the fucking Naval Academy all up in my grill.”
    “Oh my Paisley is growing up. Next thing you know I will be buying you a ‘Good-bye V Card’ cookie and sending you off to school on your own.”
    “Why are we friends again?” I am trying to come up with one good reason.
    “Because you love me.” Yep, that is the only reason I need.
    “I do.” We make it home only eight minutes late and go through our ritual of getting ready for bed, and then the dreaded Mom conversation happens. Every night like clockwork.
    “Don’t forget tomorrow is Sunday. Family dinner, no exceptions.” She reminds us, just like every other week.
    “We know, Lily.” She hates when I call her by her first name, but I love it. She just shakes her head at me.
    “Trouble maker.” She laughs at me.
    “Learned from the best.”
    “Did you girls have fun tonight?” Both Krista and I start giggling like we did when we glued my step dad’s beer to the refrigerator shelf last month. He never wanted a Budweiser so bad until he couldn’t get one.
    “Paisley kissed Jake.” And here comes her gift of gab.
    If looks could kill she would be dead. That may still be an option.
    My mom is trying to hide her snickering behind her hand, but discreet is not in her vocabulary. “Who is Jake?”
    “Chad’s friend. The one I told you about last night.” Shut up, Krista. Neither of them pays attention to me plotting their murder, and they continue with their conversation.
    “Is he cute?”
    “To die for. Yumalicious”
    “Is he nice?”
    “Not so much. She told him he had ass-holism syndrome.”
    “Oh, one of those. Most men don’t know better.” Seriously, I am sitting right fucking here. “Do you want to invite the boys over tomorrow for dinner?” Did she just call them boys?
    “Uh, probably not. Remember I told you they are older . . .” Ah, what’s wrong Krista? Your words aren’t flowing so much now with the thought of being busted.
    “Didn’t you say they were twenty, honey?” Oh, good one, Mom. Gain her trust with your false concern. I beg Krista telepathically not to fall for it.
    “They are twenty.” Hope my cell phone is charged because I will be calling 9-1-1 in just a second when my mother keels over from heart failure. Last night it didn’t seem like such a big deal to her, because it was a remote possibility. Now she is faced with it being a fact, and she is still trying to be the cool, hip mom.
    “I see. Well that isn’t terrible. You are eighteen and Paisley is sixteen going on twenty-five.” Did hell just freeze over? I think I may need the ambulance because clearly I am going insane thinking I heard what I just did.
    I can’t take it anymore. “Night-night. Conversation over. No guests for dinner, no kissing discussion, no discussion at all. Get out, going to bed now, and I want to pretend this whole tete a tete didn’t happen.”
    “Oh Paisley, calm down. It was a kiss.” My mother says, so clinically and matter of fact.
    “Yes, I know. I was there. So were my lips, and my tongue. Now I am done with this conversation.” I climb under the covers and flip over so my back is towards them. I would like to fall asleep thinking about Jake, but