Of Poseidon

stops. “Well?”
    I blink at her. “Well, what?”
    Did my mother just growl? She throws her arms up and walks to the sink, leaning back and clutching the counter until her knuckles look like white beans. “I thought we were close, Emma. I always thought you would be open with me about this stuff, that you felt comfortable talking to me.”
    I roll my eyes. You mean like the time I almost drowned and you laughed in my face when I told you how the fish saved me? Who is she kidding? We both know Dad was my parental trash can, the fatherly receptacle on whom I dumped my emotions. Does she think because she offered me a blanket and chocolate-covered whatever that I’ll just hand over the keys to my inner diary? Uh, no.
    “I know you’re eighteen now,” she huffs. “I get it, okay? But you don’t know everything. And you know what? I don’t like secrets.”
    My head spins. The first day of the Rest of My Normal Life is not turning out as planned. I shake my head. “I guess I still don’t understand what you’re asking me.”
    She stomps her foot. “How long have you been dating him, Emma? How long have you and Galen been an item?”
    Ohmysweetgoodness . “I’m not dating Galen,” I whisper. “Why would you even think that?”
    “Why would I think that? Maybe you should ask Mrs. Strickland. She’s the one who told me how intimate you looked standing there in the hall. And she said Galen was beside himself when you wouldn’t wake up. That he kept squeezing your hand.”
    Intimate? I let my backpack slide off my shoulder and onto the floor before I plod to the table and sit down. The room feels like a giant merry-go-round.
    I am … embarrassed? No. Embarrassed is when you spill ketchup on your crotch and it leaves a red stain in a suspicious area.
    Mortified? No. Mortified is when you experiment with tanning lotion and forget to put some on your feet, so it looks like you’re wearing socks with your flip-flops and sundress.
    Bewildered? Yep. That’s it. Bewildered that after I screamed at him—oh yes, now I remember I screamed at him—he picked up my limp body, carried me all the way to the office, and stayed with me until help arrived. Oh, and he held my hand and sat beside me, too.
    I cradle my face in my hands, imagining how close I came to going to school without knowing this. How close I came to walking up to Galen, telling him to take his tingles and shove them where every girl’s thoughts have been since he got there. I groan into my laced fingers. “I can never face him again,” I say to no one in particular.
    Unfortunately, Mom thinks I’m talking to her. “Why? Did he break up with you?” She sits down next to me and pulls my hands from my face. “Is it because you wouldn’t sleep with him?”
    “Mom!” I screech. “No!”
    She snatches her hand away. “You mean you did sleep with him?” Her lips quiver. This can’t be happening.
    “Mom, I told you, we’re not dating!” Shouting is a dumb idea. My heartbeat ripples through my temples.
    “You’re not even dating him and you slept with him?” She’s wringing her hands. Tears puddle in her eyes.
    One Mississippi … two Mississippi … Is she freaking serious? … Three Mississippi … four Mississippi … Because I swear I’m about to move out. … Five Mississippi … six Mississippi … I might as well sleep with him if I’m going to be accused of it anyway. … Seven Mississippi … eight Mississippi … Ohmysweetgoodness, did I really just think that? … Nine Mississippi … ten Mississippi … Talk to your mother—now .
    I keep my voice polite when I say, “Mom, I haven’t slept with Galen, unless you count laying on the nurse’s bed unconscious beside him. And we are not dating. We have never dated. Which is why he wouldn’t need to break up with me. Have I missed anything?”
    “What were you arguing about in the hall, then?”
    “I actually don’t remember. All I remember is being mad at him. Trust me, I’ll find out. But right now, I’m late for school.” I ease out of the chair and over to my backpack on the floor. Bending over is even stupider than shouting. I wish my head would just go ahead and fall off already.
    “So, you don’t remember what you talked about? You definitely should stay home and rest then. Emma? Emma, don’t you walk away from me, young lady.”
    She doesn’t come after me, which means this conversation is over.
    * * *
    I pull into my parking spot and check my makeup in