I stared at the package on my lap, feeling the simultaneous draining of blood and heating of my face. I gaped wordlessly, not even sure what was going on.

It was a bad dream, that's all. I'll wake up, and still be in Jesse's arms, and I'll refuse to leave (although, actually, I could stand a repeat of our shower). I would come home, to find my mom excited to see me, she'd kiss Jesse on the cheek and thank him for driving me home…

I couldn't look my mother in the face. I just kept staring at the package, willing myself to wake up. I mean, she KNEW now that I wasn't a virgin. And judging by the angry look on her face, she wasn't going to go Cool Mom and give sex tips like some parents.

"Would you like to explain this?" she asked, breaking the silence. I swallowed. Hard.

"How… where…" I began, feeling unable to talk.

"I went to the drug store to pick up your migraine medicine. Imagine my surprise when they handed me two prescriptions for Susannah Simon, instead of just one," she said scathingly. Her sarcasm and anger felt like a slap on the face.

Damn migraines. Just one more reason to hate them.

"Well, you know… these pills have lots of other purposes," I said slowly, trying to pull myself out of the hole. "You know, with acne…and—" She cut me off.

"Don't give me that." I gulped again. "You've never had a problem with acne. Or your period." I tried to think up something else to say, to come up with another reason I'd be taking birth control other than that I was having sex regularly.

But I failed. And just sat silently, looking away from my mom.

"You must think I've been wonderfully naive, Susannah," she said, again using my full name—something she never does unless she's majorly pissed off. "Letting you two hang out in your room with the door closed, sleeping over at his house…" I thought it would be best not to say that we'd only started having sex when he went to college. For the months prior to our first time, whenever we were in my room or I was sleeping over at his house, we never did anything inappropriate. Well, I mean, we made out. Second base, tops. But that's it.

It was now that Brad wandered down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He didn't even notice I was home.

Then my mom started up again. "I thought I could trust you. Both you and Jesse. But it's obvious I can't." I tried to decide whether it would be good to just admit that I was having sex, or just still deny it. I was still deciding when Brad re-entered the room.

"What's going on?" he asked stupidly as he shoved a handful of chips in his mouth. Mom ignored him.

"I wouldn't be quite as upset if you had just told me. I thought we were close enough that you could trust me to confide in these decisions. But having sex behind my back…" she trailed off again in anger.

Brad's mouth dropped, releasing some of the chips from his mouth. "Whoa. Suze is having sex?" he asked eloquently. "de Silva is screwing her?" Mom shot him a look.

"Not now, Brad." At least he hadn't come in when she was talking about my period. He still looked surprised that I wasn't a virgin. That actually sort of made me mad. That he had just naturally assumed no one would want to have sex with me. He left, though, sucking down more chips.

I cowered in my seat more. "But at least I'm protecting myself…" I said, deciding at that instant to just admit that I was having sex.

"You're too young," she said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm almost eighteen," I challenged.

"You weren't when you first had sex," she said. She had a point. I slept with Paul when I was sixteen.

"How do you know?" I challenged. My apprehension had evolved to frustration and anger.

Her eyes flashed. "You expect me to believe you and Jesse have only just started sleeping together? Maybe you started this weekend at his apartment?" I blanched.

"What?" I asked.

"I know you lied to me about being at his parents' house," she growled. "I wanted to speak to you, and your cell phone was off. So I found the number you have for him in the Rolodex. Only I no one picked up, and the machine message was for 'Jesse and Mark.'" Now that she mentioned that, I vaguely remembered on Friday night, in the middle of our second or third round, the phone had rung, but Jesse and I had ignored it. Maybe Jesse didn't hear—I mean, I was making a lot of noise. "I'm not stupid. Don't even try whatever pathetic excuse you're trying to come up with." I closed my eyes.

No wonder she was so mad. Not only did I lie about having sex, I didn't tell her I wasn't staying at a family house, but with Jesse alone. All weekend.

I was in trouble. Big time.

"I… didn't tell you?" I said, feigning ignorance. "I thought I did… maybe you didn't hear me…"

It was a terrible argument, I know. But I was panicking.

"You lied to me. About where you were and who you were with."

"You knew I was going to be with Jesse," I said. She ignored me, and continued on with her rant.

"You're too young to understand the consequences of your actions. I thought Jesse would be a good influence on you, but I see I was wrong." I gaped at her. Jesse was a better influence than anyone! "I don't want you two to see each other anymore." I got up, angrily.

"What? No! You can't do that!" I cried. Her lips thinned.

"Yes I can."

"But I'm almost 18! I'll be able to do whatever I want!" Except drink alcohol legally. But that wasn't really pertinent to the conversation, and besides, if I said that, she'll probably think I spend my Friday nights downing shots, or something.

"You're still my daughter, and while you live under this roof you will do what I say! And for now on, I forbid you to see Jesse."

"But Mom, that's not fair!" I exclaimed. But she didn't listen to me, just left the room.

In anger, I picked up one of the pillows on the couch and threw it across the room. I ran up the stairs to my room, slammed the door in clichéd teenage angst, and threw myself on the bed and screamed into the pillow.

Forbidden to see Jesse? I would go insane. You can't just not see someone you love so much. I mean, even during our two-month absence from each other, we knew we'd see each other at Thanksgiving, and Jesse promised that any spare day he got he'd drive down—of course, this never happened, but it kept me sane, knowing that for all I knew, Jesse's classes had been cancelled for the day, and I'd leave school and see his car in the parking lot, waiting for me.

But not being allowed to see him at all. At least, not for another 9 months or so, when I leave for college and am not living with my mom year-round.

And I thought two months was bad. But nine? I couldn't go nine months without seeing him. And for all I knew, my mom wouldn't let me call him either. I'd die if she went that far. Just die.

I know this sounded all melodramatic. But this was Jesse we were talking about. Jesse, the man who I loved more than anyone in the world. Jesse, who I just had an amazing, romantic weekend with.

I knew Jesse wasn't home yet, so even though I wanted to call him and let him know what was going on, I waited for another hour. Then I called his apartment, my eyes still misting slightly and my voice still shaky.

"Hello?" A male voice, but not Jesse. Probably Mark.

"Can I talk to Jesse?" I asked. There was a pause, and I heard dimly someone call, "de Silva! Phone!" It was another moment before Jesse's voice filled my ear. "Jesse?" I said. The mere sound of his voice made me even more upset, and I started crying again.

How could I last without him?

"Querida? What's the matter?" he asked, suddenly concerned. I sniffled.

"My mom…she…" I had difficulty choosing appropriate words. "She knows about us."

Jesse sounded bewildered. "Yes, I know she knows… we've been dating for more than a year. Of course she knows."

"No," I whispered, hearing footsteps outside the hall. "She knows about us. And about this weekend." He was silent.

"About… where you were?"

"And what we did," I said miserably. He was silent for a while.

"Is she… upset?" I sniffled.

"I've never seen her so mad. She said… she said I can't see you. Ever again." I heard the sounds of someone sitting down—heavily. Jesse groaned quietly.

"Do you think she's serious? Or just something she said in the heat of the moment?" I bit my lip.

"I don't know… she sounded pretty serious," I said sadly. Jesse sighed again.

"Querida, don't worry, I'll try to think of something, okay?"

"Okay," I sniffed. Jesse softened his voice, and made it reassuring.

"Listen, Susannah… I love you. That's what matters. I'm sure your mom will come around, okay? This isn't permanent. I'll never let it be."

"I love you too, Jesse," I said, just as the door of my room opened. My mom was there, still brooding and glaring at me.

"Who are you talking to?" she asked. I hesitated.

"I have to go," I said. Jesse probably realized what was going on.

"Okay, Querida. I'll e-mail you later. If you can't call, just e-mail me. We'll work something out. I love you." And then he hung up.

"Was that Jesse?" she asked. I nodded. Her nostrils flared. "I thought I had made myself clear about him." She said 'him' like his name was a dirty word, something not to be said in polite company. My anger flared up.

"Since when was talking on the phone seeing him?" I snapped.

"I don't want you to be in contact with him at all." I gaped at her. That was insane, it was punishment above and beyond my crime.

"Mom!" I cried. "You can't do that. You can't stop me from talking to him!"

I had pushed too far. My mom went over to my desk, leaned underneath it, and ripped the landline phone jack from the wall and then took both my cell phone and my regular phone from the desk, and left the room.

"What?" I nearly shrieked. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you obey your mother," she said. I followed her out of the room and down the hall into her room, but she shut the door behind her, and, from the sounds of the click near the doorknob, locked it.

She'd gone crazy. Seriously, that was the only explanation to her behavior. I pounded on the door, but she didn't answer. She was obviously stashing my phones somewhere. I heard Andy's voice, trying to calm my mom down. I guess he was hiding when I came home, trying to avoid the confrontation.

In disgust, I gave up, and went back to my room, slammed the door, and threw myself on the bed again.

First no seeing Jesse. Now I can't even hear his voice? Listen to him reassure me, compliment me, tell me he loves me. I can't even tell him that I love him.

I never knew someone could go from such an emotional high to so low in just over an hour.

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I didn't leave my room for the rest of the day, ignoring the shouts that dinner was ready. I just didn't eat. I was comforted in the slightest when I remembered that Jesse was going to e-mail me that night, and before I went to bed, there it was.

It was short, just telling me to keep calm and behave, and maybe I'd be let off for good behavior. I e-mailed him back, miserably, telling him not to bother trying to call any of the phone numbers he had for me, because my cell phone and regular phone were probably locked in my mom's closet, and if she happened to pick up if he called the family line, he'd be dead.

The next morning, I got dressed in black pants and a black sweater set (I dressed to reflect my mood) and didn't leave the room until I heard Brad starting up the car, at which point I grabbed all of my stuff, completely ignored my mom at the dining room table, grabbed an apple from the kitchen, and left the house.

I didn't get a chance to talk to Cee Cee or Adam before school, but right before lunch Cee Cee found me and asked me how the weekend went. I sighed, remembering just being with Jesse.

"The weekend was great, after the Thanksgiving debacle. The return home sucked horrendously."

"What happened? I tried to call, but your cell phone was off and your other line was disconnected." I sighed.

"My mom went psycho and disconnected my phone line and took my cell phone away." She looked at me, surprised.

"Why?"

I launched into an explanation. "Well, you know Jesse and I are, you know, slee—" She cut me off.

"I know what you and Jesse do in your spare time, just please, no details. I don't need to hear about two of my best friends boffing each other senseless." I smiled. But then it turned back into a frown.

"Well, my mom found out. And she knows that I was at Jesse's apartment, not his parents' house." Cee Cee gaped at me.

"How?" I groaned at the memory.

"A combination of bad luck and not thinking. She went to go get my migraine medicine, only they gave her another prescription," I said. She understood me perfectly, and winced. "So then she tried to call and talk to me, only Jesse and I didn't hear the phone—" She again shot me a look "—and got his machine, which told her that it wasn't his family's house that I was at."

"So she disconnected your phone? That's sort of random," Cee Cee said. "I mean, the punishment doesn't really fit."

"No," I said, sighing sadly. "She forbid me to contact Jesse ever again. She disconnected the phones because I called him to tell him what was going on, only she overheard so she took away all forms of communication with him. I can't even talk to him. We've been downgraded to having to e-mail each other. God knows it will only be a few days until she figures out my password and deletes the account or something." Cee Cee stared at me. Adam came up with his corn dogs and sat with us.

"Hey, what's up? Why so sad?" he asked, seeing my miserable expression and Cee Cee's shocked face.

"That is terrible!" she said. I nodded. "A total violation of your 8th amendment rights." I looked at her blankly.

"My right to bear arms?" I asked. She rolled her eyes disgustedly.

"That's the second, genius. I'm talking about cruel and unusual punishments." Oh. "You lied, yes, and you had sex with Jesse behind her back--" Adam, who had just taken a swallow of soda, choked and looked between us. I'd never told him that Jesse and I were sleeping together. It just seemed sort of an awkward conversation starter. 'Hey, Adam, guess what Jesse and I did this weekend?' "—but forbidding contact is awful! She took away your emergency cell phone! What happens if you get hit by a car, or kidnapped?"

"Cee, I use the cell phone in between the kidnappings and hit-and-run accidents," I said. "And my mom knows it. She's the one who gets the bill." She waved her hand impatiently.

"But she got it for you for emergencies, right?" I nodded. "And besides, not even letting you talk to your boyfriend is harsh."

"Wait, what's going on? Who's having sex and getting hit with cars?" I rolled my eyes and took his corn dog and took a bite before handing it back.

Suddenly, Cee Cee's eyes lit up. Then she reached in her bag and pulled out her cell phone and shoved it at me. "Call him on my phone."

"Really?" I asked hopefully. "You don't mind? I'm not, like, wasting minutes?" She shook her head.

"Your and Jesse's true love," she said, only half mockingly, "is worth spending 10 or 15 minutes on my phone. Besides, you're the only one I actually talk to a lot on here, and now that you don't have a cell phone, there's practically no point in having one."

"Except in case you get kidnapped," I reminded her while I was taking the phone. She grinned.

I excused myself to a garden behind the school, and sat on a bench and dialed the familiar digits. I prayed that he wouldn't be in class, that he would be on break if he was at work…

I guess my presence at a Catholic school helped my prayers get through, because after a few rings, Jesse's wonderful voice came through—only the slightest bit staticy.

"Hey, Cee Cee," he said. I guess he checked the caller ID.

"It's me!" I said excitedly.

"Querida, oh, it's great to hear your voice." His voice had a relief in it, like he had tried to resign himself to not being able to talk to me for months, but was having difficulty.

"I only have a few minutes. Cee is letting me borrow her phone… but I had to call."

And the next five minutes, just being able to hear Jesse's voice, was the happiest moment all day.

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