My mom didn’t answer me, but looked past me to Morik. “Morik, I don’t want to subject you to a conversation that might lead to an argument.”
He nodded respectfully to my mom and then looked at me. “I will be outside if you decide to go.” He moved past me and out the door before I could say anything, grabbing his jacket along the way.
I stood staring after him appalled by my mother’s rudeness.
“He’s standing outside in the snow, mom. How could you do that? You didn’t even ask him if he’d be cold!”
Gran and Aunt Grace drifted from the room. No doubt, they sensed a battle brewing.
“Will he be?” she asked as took plates from the cabinet to set the table.
I thought back to when I touched him. He’d felt nicely warm to my chilled touch despite the temperature of the house. No, he probably wouldn’t be cold… “That’s beside the point! You were rude.”
“I didn’t want to argue in front of him.” She didn’t look at me, but focused on counting out the forks we needed from the drawer.
“Argue about what? All I did was ask where you were.”
“And you tried to tell me you’re going to a party tonight.”
I didn’t like her use of the word tried. “Tried?”
“You’re not going.” She said it casually, taking glasses from the drying rack next to the sink to place on the table.
What happened to her prior attitude? She’d been fine with the idea of my going out at night the day before. Since this was the first time I even spoke with her today, I didn’t think her current snit related to me even though I felt the brunt of it.
“You’ve set one too many settings,” I said quietly watching her.
She looked up surprised, probably because I wasn’t yelling, but mostly because I contradicted her.
“You don’t want me to choose Morik, but when I’m invited to a party, where there’ll be enough drinking that no one will notice the weird girl discreetly touching an arm here or a hand there, you want me to stay home. So what you’re telling me is that you don’t want me to choose at all?” I looked over at Aunt Danielle for a moment. She sat quietly in her chair, her eyes closed, but I knew she listened. Turning back to my mom, I said what needed saying. “How’d that work out for Aunt Danielle again?”
Mom paled and her eyes grew watery. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Then you shouldn’t have had me,” I said sadly, the words harsher than my tone. “Our choices are limited, but they’re still there. Don’t limit mine further. This is hard enough.”
She set the plates on the table in a stack and walked out of the room without looking at me. I stared after her for a moment, feeling like crying myself.
“Don’t cry girl,” Aunt Danielle said from beside me making me jump a little. “The truth can be as hard to say as it is to hear, but it’s always important.
I nodded and got my jacket. Before opening the door, I looked back at Aunt Danielle. “Remind her I love her, okay?”
“I will honey.”
Stepping out the door quickly to avoid letting in too much cold air, I paused on the step and looked up at the indigo sky. I hated arguing with my mom. Knowingly saying something that hurt her sucked. But she was being unreasonable. Nothing in this whole deal was easy or simple. So far, I’d been voluntarily touching boys I felt even the slightest interest. As in Brian and Clavin’s cases, it wasn’t always voluntary. Regardless, I had been selective up until this point. Knowing that I’d die if I didn’t choose soon helped lower my standards a bit to… oh, anyone being a possibility. I didn’t want to go to a drinking party. There’d be risks just being underage at one. But I’d spoken the truth. The possible benefits outweighed the risks.
With a sigh, I stepped off the stoop and headed toward Morik. He stood next to his motorcycle waiting, my helmet tucked under his arm.
I didn’t want to think about fighting with mom anymore and seeing him distracted me from my musings. “Why do you bother with a motorcycle if you can pop in and out of places?”
“Popping freaks people out. It draws too much attention.” He handed me the helmet.
“So does riding a motorcycle in the snow,” I mumbled making him laugh as I settled it on my head. “Are you sure you won’t come to the party with me?”
“I’m sure,” he said getting onto the motorcycle and starting it.
I climbed on behind him and wrapped my arms around him without his prompting. Shouting her address to him through the helmet and over the noise, I wondered how long I’d last before my legs went numb.
Five minutes. Piercing needles of pain danced over my thighs. Carefully, I removed one arm from his waist and laid it over my right leg for additional protection. It didn’t help.