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he’s a statutory rapist, that’s what he is. And you were the one who told me about it!”
    Sage clamped her mouth into a severe line. “I didn’t tell you so you’d go off like a crazy woman on him.”
    “Oh, no? I was supposed to wait for Gino to grow a conscience? Or your friend to reach legal age?”
    “Mom, everybody in school heard about what you did. Somebody’s cousin even took pictures with her cell phone.”
    “Good,” I said. “Let’s hope the photos are admissible in court.”
    “Kiley can’t go to court!” Sage cried. “Her mom would kill her! Her whole life is practically ruined now.”
    “All I care about is Gino getting punished. For Kiley, things will blow over.”
    “No, they won’t. She’s already talking about transferring to a whole different school. We need her for basketball season! Mom, you really screwed up this time.”
    Being the mother of a teenager, I had learned, means screwing up all the time. There is no winning with teenagers—only staying one step ahead of them if you’re really vigilant. One day you’re up, maybe, but the next day you’re the lowest form of life known to man.
    “Look,” I said, “Kiley needed help, whether she realized it or not. I did what needed to be done.”
    “As usual, you bullied your way into a situation with a bazooka instead of a sensible argument.”
    “If I’d had a bazooka, I’d have used it.”
    “You’re a bully,” Sage snapped. “You can’t be a sensible human being in a crisis. You always explode.”
    “I do not, damn it!”
    “Kiley’s life sucks, and it’s your fault!”
    Before I could make a snappy comeback, Sage’s phone, sitting on the coffee table, began to buzz.
    Zack, who had been observing us argue like he was watching a tennis match, suddenly rolled his eyes and grunted his disgust.
    I pointed at the phone. “You going to answer that?”
    “She doesn’t have to,” Zack said. “She knows who it is.”
    “Who is it?” I asked my daughter.
    Sage, who had never been a pouter, suddenly had a lower lip big enough for a bird to land on. “Brian.”
    “Who’s Brian?”
    “Brian Stinkler,” Zack said.
    “Sinkland!” Sage corrected.
    “He calls every five minutes,” Zack told me.
    I said to Sage, “Why don’t you just answer? He’ll stop calling.”
    “She doesn’t want him to stop,” Zack said. “She’s got a crush on him.”
    “I do not!”
    “Then why are you going out with him Friday night?”
    “I haven’t decided if I’m going,” Sage said.
    “You’re stringing along the mystery man?” I asked. “Meanwhile, you’re going to first base with Zack?”
    “I’m not going anywhere with Zack.” She grabbed the phone and leaped off the sofa. “I don’t know why I try to make conversation with either one of you. I’m going upstairs.”
    Sage took her phone and ran up the stairs. When she was almost out of sight, she answered her phone with a sweetened voice. “Hello?”
    We didn’t hear the rest of the conversation because she slammed her bedroom door.
    Usually, I cut Sage a lot of slack. She was a better kid than I had been at her age. The thing I didn’t like was her growing up at all. I’d been happier when she was ten and showing me how to use a computer than I was now, when she had one sly boyfriend in the house and another one on the phone. And a skirt so short I could practically read the tag on her panties.
    Zack laughed, and I swung on him. He had seen my expression. “She’s hot, isn’t she?”
    “Shut the hell up.”
    “Hey, she comes by it naturally.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    Zack stayed relaxed on the sofa, looking up at me. “You’re not exactly the PTA type, Mrs. A. So don’t get all bent out of shape about Sage. Just be glad she’s with me most of the time.”
    “I should be glad about that?”
    “She could do worse.”
    “Like this Brian kid?”
    “Maybe.”
    I cocked both fists on my hips. “Who is he?”
    “He’s a senior at