"Therese? That you?"

Theresa turned to the hallway mirror and checked her hair one more time, pulling out a stray leaf, which she stored in her pocket. She tucked her hair neatly behind her ear before making her way into the living room. "Hi, Ma."

"Where've you been?"

She shrugged. "Out." She made her way to her room and dropped her purse amid the clutter on her dresser before returning to the living room where her mother sat on the couch in front of three large baskets of laundry. "Need help?"

"Always," Eva said. She pointed. "You can start with your own things. Where do you get so many clothes? I don't understand."

Theresa smiled as she settled into the chair and reached for the basket. Did she want to push it? Did she not want to push it? She settled for the push. It was her mother, after all. And it would naturally start well, because Eva always liked to hear about Ryan. "I just saw Ryan," she said casually.

As expected, her mother's face brightened. "Oh? How is he?"

"He's okay." She paused and licked her lips. She focused on the t-shirt in her lap as she tucked the sleeves in. "Mama, did you know Juana's husband moved in with them?"

Eva pursed her lips silently for a moment, and Theresa stared at her, aghast.

"You knew!" She threw the folded shirt to the ground, and was annoyed when it landed perfectly.

"You hear things," Eva said, distant as she dug around in the laundry basket, not looking at Theresa. "Around."

Theresa's jaw dropped as she pulled a sundress from her pile with a great jerk. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"I thought you knew, or you'd at least find out," her mother admitted.

Theresa leaned back in the chair in a huff, letting the sundress in her arms fall over her lap, unfolded. "Like Ryan ever tells me anything."

"Well," Eva said as she considered this, "he's a private person. Some people are just like that. He takes after his mother, you know she's the same way."

Eva was always one to defend Ryan. So typical. In her eyes, he could do no wrong. In a way, it was sometimes infuriating. "Mom," she said, leaning forward. "Juana hated him."

Eva's eyes flitted down as she reached for the next item in the basket. "Did she."

Theresa gave a short, low laugh. "And now he's living with Ryan. With Ryan! I don't believe it, it's like one situation gets better, and another-"

"Theresa," her mother interrupted, firmly. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't get involved. It's not your family. It's Ryan's. If he's not saying anything, he doesn't want you to know, sweetie."

She shook her head, dark strands flopping around her face. "I don't care what he wants."

"Is that so?" Eva asked, peering up at her.

"You know what I mean." She glanced at her wrists. She hoped Eva wouldn't ask about the slowly fading red marks on them, left from Ryan's clenching hands. Not a subject she wanted to broach with her mother, no matter how much Eva loved Ryan.

"Theresa? And I say this in the most loving way possible. Mind your own business."

Her head snapped up. She glared across the living room. "Ryan is my business."

"No," Eva said gently. "No, he's not, sweetie. He's got his own life, and his own problems, and he'll tell you what he wants to tell you."

Theresa scooted forward in her chair, leaning closer to her mother. "Do you know that Brandon Medena told me to fuck off last week? That's exactly what he said to me, Mama, he said 'Fuck you, bitch'. Swear to god. Little Brandon. Where do you think he got that from? Elmo's World?"

Eva shook her head. "Theresa-"

But Theresa pressed on. "And he hits Angelita, all the time. Every time she screams. He didn't get that from Juana. I know that. You know that."

"Arturo used to hit you all the time. It's something brothers do. There's a big difference between Brandon and Ryan, Therese."

"Is there?" Theresa asked, frustrated. "Are you sure?"

"Look at them! Brandon is a little boy. Ryan is almost a man."

Theresa didn't want to say that she had, she'd looked a lot at both Ryan and Brandon, and Ryan sometimes looked every bit as much of a little boy to her as Brandon did. Sometimes bigger, maybe, but sometimes even smaller. Sometimes, it was indeed hard for her to tell the difference.

"He still doesn't have a job."

"He's a dealer." They both turned to see Arturo wandering in, his shirt covered with stains from the garage.

"Hi, Turo," Theresa said grudgingly as her brother wiped his face on his filthy shirt.

"Arturo, that's not a nice thing to say," Eva scolded.

"'S true," Arturo mumbled. He nodded his head in the direction of the Atwoods' house. "You think I don't find this stuff out, Mom?"

Eva stopped her folding and stared at him, boring into him with her eyes. "I hope you don't." There was no ambiguity in her tone now.

Theresa looked back and forth between them. "Did you know he moved in with Ryan and Dawn?" she asked.

Arturo shrugged. "Yeah, I saw him over there the other day. He's a dealer, Ma. I'm telling you." He moved for the fridge and opened it, pulling out the water jug. He opened the cabinet and reached for a glass.

Theresa glanced over at her mother, who looked slightly more concerned. "Mom?"

Eva shook her head and busied herself with the laundry. "Stay out of it, Therese."

"He's my best friend, Mama."

"And I'm your mother. And I'm telling you, stay out of it."

"Fine," Theresa sighed. "I'll stay out of it." She glanced up.

"You, too," Eva said in Arturo's direction as he replaced the water jug in the fridge. "You have a home here. Don't make me take it away from you." It was one of her favorite threats, but she only pulled it out when she meant business. Like now.

"Fine," Arturo said dully, "I'll stay out of it, too." He huffed back towards his bedroom, clutching his glass in hand. "Dealin' right out of the house, I know it," he muttered as he disappeared.

Theresa watched him go, then looked back at her mother, who was folding just a little bit faster. She licked her lips again.

Her mother was right. Eva was always right. Even when Theresa argued with her, she knew her mother was right. Because that was her way.

Still, something about all of it just didn't feel... right.

Theresa found herself chewing idly on her coke straw as she waited by the food court for the girls. The Girls. She couldn't even remember the last time she had met up with the girls to go shopping. It just wasn't a part of her life anymore.

She'd known Becca and Lily since first grade and Mrs. Kitchens' class, but Lily had moved to Los Angeles halfway through fourth grade. Becca and Theresa had happily gone right on with their friendship in her absence, until tenth grade and the strengthening of the Theresa-Ryan friendship (or... or whatever it was), and the return of Lily, whose father had been appointed principal at the middle school. Over the past few months, as Theresa and Becca had started spending less time together, Becca had taken up with Lily almost as if she was a replacement. Theresa wasn't entirely bothered by that. She didn't want to see herself as expendable under any circumstances, but when it got her away from Becca, who had been increasingly obnoxious ever since puberty hit, she couldn't complain too much.

The hardest part now was spending any amount of time at all with the two of them together. Theresa didn't have the heart to tell them to fuck off, and so now she was stuck here by the food court, chewing her coke straw, dreading the impending afternoon.

She had to admit that it wasn't all bad - the food court was definitely her favorite place in the mall. So many choices – greasy Chinese noodles, or cheesy pizza, or steaming hot pretzels. However, the fact that she was here, waiting for –

"Theresa! Oh my god!"

-That...

She turned in the direction of Becca's shrieking and tried to smile as Becca, with Lily trailing on her heels, made her way across the food court. Of course they both arrived together. They'd probably been talking about her before they came.

"Where you been, girlfriend?" Becca asked, crushing Theresa in an embrace. Theresa winced.

"Oh, around," she said, ambiguous. She pulled back quickly.

"So we gonna eat or shop first?" Becca asked.

"I... don't know," Theresa said. "You guys?"

Lily rolled her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering. "I'm not shopping." She bent to study a nail that looked perfect, though from the way she was holding her hand, she seemed to think it was chipped somehow.

"Lily has to get a job," Becca explained. "Her parents cut her allowance when school ended."

"No way." Theresa couldn't help but feel a small pang of schadenfreude. Lily was, after all, one of the only financially solid girls at Chino Hills. She always had better clothes, better hair, better toys. Not much better. But better. Principal of the middle school was no slouch job, and her mother worked, too. It was more than most of their classmates.

Lily pouted. "So I guess I'm just browsing today." It was all Theresa could do not to let loose with one of the dozens of comebacks that instantly popped into her head.

"I need summer sandals, though," Becca said, smacking her gum.

"I need jeans," Theresa added, enjoying a brief superiority over Lily. She had babysitting money to spend. That is, provided she could find jeans on sale. "I can't wear shorts to the restaurant this summer."

"Hey, so how much does that restaurant pay?" Lily asked, reaching up to tuck her arm around her purse.

Theresa stared at her. "You? Want to work pizza."

"Maybe," Lily said defensively.

Theresa shrugged. It wasn't worth lying about. She wasn't big into the lying thing. She didn't want to say it, but she had to say it. So she took a deep breath and said it. "Well, I guess they're hiring for another cashier."

"Could you put a good word in?" Lily asked, her eyes lighting up.

Theresa tried to summon enthusiasm. "I guess."

"Your hair looks adorable," Lily said, staring up and down Theresa's loose curls. "By the way."

Theresa lifted a hand to her hair self-consciously. "Thanks." She had almost forgotten what it was like to hang out with girls. To talk about hair. And clothes. And –

"So," Becca said, leaning in and beaming around her gum, her big dark pink lips looking slightly misplaced on her mouth. "Everybody wants to know. Are you and Ryan, like, dating now, or what?"

-Boys.

Theresa forced a laugh as the girls started for the shops. She tripped behind them to keep up. "Dating?"

"Yeah, you know what dating is," Becca said scornfully, twitching her head as she said it.

Theresa shot her a look. "Yeah, uh huh, and it's not what me and Ryan are doing."

"Which one's Ryan again?" Lily asked, skipping to keep up. "Is he the big guy with the glasses?"

"No," Becca said, giggling. "That's Ryan Morgan. Ryan Atwood. Kinda short, blond hair." She gestured a completely pointless gesture, apparently to indicate his height. "Dresses like he just walked out of the hood. Kid don't know he's white."

Theresa glared at her. Becca was one to talk. She still thought she was black, and probably ninety-five percent of her ancestors were from Europe, judging by her complexion. "Oh, come on. Like every other white guy at school doesn't do the exact same thing."

Becca shrugged. "I'm just sayin'."

Theresa narrowed her eyes. "Sayin'... what?"

Becca avoided her look. "Sayin', do you know who I mean now, Lily?" Becca asked impatiently.

Lily wrinkled her nose as the girls approached the escalator. "No."

"Anybody want to stop at the bookstore?" Theresa asked suddenly.

"The bookstore?" Becca asked, puzzled. "Why?"

Theresa was quickly reaching the end of her rope. "Cause I heard they got a great shoe sale, right? For books! Jesus. Books. People!"

"You want to buy a book?" Lily stared at Theresa like she was a creature from another planet. Theresa was beginning to remember why Becca liked the girl so much. And why she, on the other hand, did not.

"I just like looking at them is all," Theresa said, glancing away.

"Or," Becca said, "Maybe we could split up and go look at CDs while you do that?"

Theresa started to say that she wanted to look at CDs too, but then she stopped. "Okay," she said. "Great idea."

She found herself taking a deep, relieving breath as she made her way through the fiction aisle. Was this the way it would be from now on? These girls? They were like alien creatures to her. She actually missed Arturo's fart jokes, and Trey's constant automobile babble, and sparring with Eddie, and Ryan with his complete lack of understanding of female social graces. She didn't understand girls any more.

She wondered if she ever really had.

Once she'd scanned the magazine rack and lowered her blood pressure a bit, Theresa slid across the mall corridor to join the girls as they emerged from the record store. "Need to see anything here?" Becca asked, clutching her shopping bag to her chest.

"No," Theresa lied with a thin smile, "where to next?"

Next was Payless. And then the Gap, the sale rack in the back. And Theresa was starting to feel tired, and poor, and insignificant. She could never shop for too long. Maybe she was supposed to have been born a boy. Maybe she really was a boy and didn't know it. Maybe she was one of those gender oddities she read about in Newsweek...

They were on their way down the escalator bound for the Limited when Becca suddenly cried out, "Hey, there he is!"

"Who?" Lily asked, irritated.

"Ryan."

"Morgan?" Lily asked.

"Atwood."

"Where?" Theresa glanced up from where she'd been rummaging in her purse. She followed Becca's finger to where the Atwood brothers were riding up the escalator, traveling towards them at a brisk pace, and felt her stress start to disappear as she recognized them. "Ryan! Hey! Trey!" She waved.

The guys looked up from the CD liner notes they'd been reading together, Trey standing on the step beneath Ryan to even their height. Trey was the first to see her and wave back.

"Oh, that kid," Theresa heard Lily say behind her in a bored, soft tone.

"Stay there," Theresa shouted at Ryan as they passed. "We'll come up."

"What?" he yelled back.

She clutched the moving rail and leaned over. "Just don't move!"

He shook his head in her at amusement as she rode past. He leaned over to point at them and whisper something to Trey, who laughed.

At the bottom of the escalator she rounded the corner swiftly and barged up, taking the stairs two at a time, in hot pursuit of the Atwoods. She could hear the girls charging up at her heels, but she didn't care. She wove her way around an elderly couple and a group of middle schoolers, bumping into a little kid with her purse by accident. "Uh, sorry." She charged on.

"Off today?" she asked Ryan as she reached the top, breathless.

"Yeah," he said, shifting his weight as he studied the girls gathering behind her. She followed his eyes to see that he was watching Lily closely.

It hit her that she was supposed to do something here, socially. What was it? "Oh. Trey, and Ryan, you guys remember Becca, right? Do you know Lily?"

"Uh, hi," Lily said with a small, careless wave.

"I know you," Becca said to Trey, pointing. "You had that party, right? With the keg?"

Trey immediately brightened. "Yeah! Actually, that was me." He paused and considered this, racking his brain. "Well. There's a lot of parties. But I'm pretty sure it was me."

Theresa cast a sideways glance at Becca, then decided to ignore it. "I didn't think I'd see you guys here."

From the uncomfortable look Ryan gave Trey, she immediately had a feeling something was up. Not a feeling. She knew. The Atwoods were up to something. And she knew that whatever it was, she probably didn't want to ever know. If Trey was involved...

"You know how my brother is with a sale," Trey said cheerfully.

"Oh, do I ever," Theresa said. She offered Ryan a joking grin, but he wasn't looking at her.

"He's kidding," Ryan explained to Lily, aside.

"I figured," she said, with a quick nod, glancing across the mall towards the cookie bakery, away from Ryan.

Theresa looked to Lily, and then back at Ryan. What...?

"Right. Uh huh. I know you," Theresa said, leaning in and cuffing Ryan on the elbow. "You know you'd rather be checking out the bookstore. Don't let him boss you around."

"Too late for that," Ryan said, offering a weak attempt at a smile. But it failed. Theresa glanced away from him, not comprehending.

"So speaking of parties," Trey was saying, "we got one Saturday night, ladies. Anybody?"

"The thing at your place?" Theresa heard herself saying. Great. The last thing she wanted was Becca-and-Lily at a Trey Atwood party.

"For you beautiful girls, the booze is free," Trey was saying. "You can't pass that up, am I right?"

Theresa glanced back at Ryan, who was still eying Lily. This was not good.

"Maybe," Becca said, rocking back and forth. "You gonna be there?"

Theresa's head whipped back around to Becca, who had inched closer to Trey.

Trey folded his arms and regarded her with a long stare. "Only if you are, toots."

'Toots'? Theresa met Ryan's eyes and could only wait half a second before releasing a large guffaw.

"Excuse me?" Trey turned to her, annoyed, missing Ryan's grin and head shake behind him.

Theresa shook her head and coughed. "Something... in my throat." She pointed and cleared her throat again.

"So we'll see you there then?" Ryan asked. Theresa started to respond. But his eyes weren't on her. They were on Lily.

She had held Ryan only a day ago; hours before, she had been the only person who could bring him pleasure. But was it anything a million other girls couldn't do? Theresa didn't have anything Lily didn't have. And Lily had a lot that Theresa was lacking.

A lot.

"Guess you will," Theresa said.

"Great." Ryan smiled, the smile that still didn't reach his eyes.

"We gotta go, uh, meet some guys," Trey said, speaking directly to Becca. "So, sorry. But – Saturday awaits."

"Saturday," Becca said with a smile.

With half a wave, Theresa and the girls started back down the escalator. Theresa found herself suddenly wishing she were going in the opposite direction. With the guys.

"So that's Ryan Atwood?" Lily asked in disbelief, casting a look back over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, girl, but you can totally do better."

Theresa turned to her, annoyed. "Yeah? What's that supposed to mean?"

"He's not all that cute, really. And he just seems kinda... slow."

Slow? Slow? Oh, that was rich, coming from Becca's new best friend. "You don't know him," she snapped. "You don't even know me."

"Yeah, but I do," Becca said. "You could do better. She's right."

"Excuse me?" Theresa asked, turning on her.

"Well, he's not your boyfriend, right? You said."

Theresa clenched her fingers into a fist and unclenched them, stretching them out. She hadn't been in a fight since eighth grade. "No."

"Then what do you care? Chill."

"He's my best friend," Theresa pointed out. "I care." She glanced nervously at Becca. Once, Becca had been her best friend. No more. But Becca didn't seem to care any more than Theresa really did.

"Sale at Limited!" Lily squealed, and charged in the direction of the store. Becca took off at her heels, giggling in her wake. And Theresa followed behind, her hands shoved back in her pockets, in no particular rush to catch up.