Whispers at Moonrise

paused. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”
    Giving in because lying sure as hell didn’t seem to work, Kylie answered, “Just a bad day.”
    “You know if you change your mind about staying there for the school year, and want to come home, I could get you enrolled back in school here and—”
    “I’m not going to change my mind, Mom. I love it here.” I belong here. “I’m allowed to have a bad day, right?”
    “Yes, just like I’m allowed to worry about you when you have a bad day.”
    “Well, don’t worry too much.” There was a sudden background noise on the line.
    “Where are you?” Kylie asked.
    “Out to an early dinner.”
    “Alone?” Kylie asked, hoping her mom wasn’t out with Smarmy John, who wanted to drag her mom off to England and get her naked and between the sheets.
    As soon as the thought came, Kylie tried to push it away.
    “Uh, no.” Her mom’s answer came out sounding guilty. “Not alone.”
    “With John?” Kylie attempted to keep her disappointment from her voice, but didn’t think she was successful.
    The silence lingered a few seconds on the line.
    “It’s a yes or no answer, Mom. It shouldn’t take you that long to reply.” Kylie realized she sounded just like her mom, too. But damn, she was certain her mom had used the exact line on her at one time or another.
    “Uh … yes,” her mom’s reply came out.
    Kylie closed her eyes. As if her brain were on automatic pilot, the question slipped out. “You’re not having sex with him, are you?” And even before the last word of the inquiry left her lips, she knew she was going to regret it.
    Oh, yeah, regret times ten. Kylie felt her face turn red.
    Her mom’s breath caught and she started coughing. “Uh…” More hacking.
    “Hello, Kylie.” A male voice came on the line. “I think your mom choked on her wine.”
    Wine? Her mom was drinking wine at three in the afternoon? Was he planning on getting her drunk and having his way with her?
    “Kylie? You there?”
    “Yeah.” Kylie heard her mom telling John to give her the phone back. Kylie imagined her mom panicking thinking Kylie might ask John if they were having sex. Not that she would. The fact that she asked her mom was probably going on her most embarrassing moments list.
    “Kylie?” Her mom must have snagged the phone back. “We … should talk later.” Her voice came out squeaky, like a cartoon.
    “Yeah. Later.” Kylie disconnected and stared at the phone.
    Okay, lesson learned. Her mom not only couldn’t say the word sex, she obviously couldn’t hear it, either. Did that mean her mom couldn’t have sex? Gawd, Kylie hoped so. Lesson number two. Talking about sex with her mom made her queasy. Could she possibly suffer from the same affliction as her mom?
    Resting her phone by the computer, pushing thoughts of her mom having sex from her mind, Kylie refocused on the computer and tried not to listen to her roommates giggling about something—probably something to do with sex, too. Moaning, she dropped her head down on the table, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks, hoping the coolness of the wood would chase away the heat.
    Her phone, placed beside the computer, chimed with an incoming text. Sitting up, she picked it up to get the message. Her heart did a little jolt when she saw it was from Derek.
    His message read: You ok? What’s happening?
    Kylie closed her eyes. Could he sense everything she was feeling now? She dropped her head back on the table again, so hard she probably bruised her forehead. She took a few deep breaths and then sat up and started texting him back.
    Fine. E-mailing you the description of the diner uniform now. U going to the reception?
    She held her breath and waited to see if he’d answer.
    I’ll be there. U?
    Oh goodness, did he think the question was like an invitation to hang out?
    Was it an invitation to hang out?
    Yes. Bye. Guilt set in. But at least the guilt replaced the embarrassment of asking her mom if she was having sex.
    Kylie stared down at her phone. Why did texting Derek feel wrong? She shouldn’t feel that way. They were just … friends. Heck, Fredericka was with Lucas five times more than Kylie was with Lucas. Ten times more than Kylie was with Derek. And Fredericka and Lucas had been lovers.
    Trying to shake off the feeling, she finished the e-mail and hit send.
    “Kylie?” Miranda called from the doorway of Della’s bedroom. “Did you do it?”
    Kylie looked over her shoulder and