Orange

2170

Life was totally unfair.

Andie Shepard huffed as she threw herself across her bed. Grounded; how lame was that? She was sixteen, for crying out loud. She felt as if her mother had turned her nose to a corner and set the kitchen timer.

Scowling, she rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling of the pre-fab colonial housing unit that she'd grown up in. It wasn't as if she'd done anything really bad. Okay, so maybe her grades had been going down this semester, and maybe she had been spending way too much time playing soccer. Her parents didn't understand—playoffs were coming up. If she wasn't in top form she wouldn't make the team—wouldn't be team captain. She knew she could get the girls of the Blazers ready if she only had a chance. But she had to prove herself first and that meant making time for a lot of practice.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason she was grounded. Andie felt her face flush red when she remembered Colby and that... kiss. It had been a good kiss, as far as she knew—she would never admit to anyone that it was her first—but his timing had been terrible. She was supposed to be doing additional chores as part of her penance for her grade report when he'd come to talk. He'd been home from the community college in Toscani for spring break. He'd stopped by to chat and then somehow his lips had landed on hers and next thing she knew, he was pressing her against the side of the house and she was struggling for air and then Colby was jumping back, his face glowing crimson even under his dark skin when her father pulled them apart.

Still, it was stupid. It was just a kiss; he wasn't trying to molest her or anything like her dad had said –or yelled, more like it. Well, sure, Andie grudgingly admitted to herself, all she'd wanted was a kiss, but Colby's hands had been very... handsy. But all she had to do was tell him to back off a bit and the kissing would still be good. She grinned to herself. Wouldn't the girls at school be super jealous that she—who was too tall for the high school boys—had gotten a college-aged boyfriend before any of them? Andie glanced at her omni-tool but it was parentally locked; she couldn't even play any games, let alone text message Colby until her parents disabled the override.

Andie slid over the side of her bed and walked to the window. She could just walk to Colby's house. The Patel farm wasn't within sight from her window, but it wasn't a very far walk: maybe about twenty minutes. She would be back before anyone knew. She pressed her lips together, considering, then shrugged. What's the worst that could happen? More grounding? Besides, she would be right back. Shrugging her arms into a jacket, Andie braced herself on the window.

"Going somewhere?" her mother's voice sounded behind her.

Andie let out a yelp and nearly tumbled out the window. Steadying herself on the wall, she risked a look at her mother, but she didn't look angry, only a little amused.

"I was, uh, just..."

"Come to the kitchen," Joanna said, turning in the doorway. "I want to talk with you."

Shoulders slumped, Andie followed her mother into the kitchen and stopped, eyes wide at the mess. Bowls, mixing spoons, a few oranges, a canister of sugar, and other ingredients stood on the counter, all coated in a light dusting of flour.

"What are you doing?" Andie asked, forgetting for the moment to be sullen.

"I'm making orange rolls," Joanna said brightly, going over to a bowl.

"You are?" Andie said apprehensively. Dad was the one who cooked most often, when they did bother to make meals. Most often their family just relied on the auto-chef for food, but Dad enjoyed cooking when he had the time. Jo, however, wasn't the best cook, and Andie couldn't remember the last time she'd tasted her baking.

"Yep, and you're going to help me." Joanna gestured to the fridge. "Get out an egg and the vanilla stuff."

For a while, Andie forgot about what her mother had caught her doing and concentrated on helping make the dough. Soon, the dough was smooth and warm, kneaded by the electric mixer. They wrapped the dough in plastic wrap and put it in the fridge. As they started to clean up the various utensils, Andie remembered the reason for her punishment.

"I don't think Colby is the right boy for you," Jo said, scraping off leftover dough stuck to the mixer bowl. "For one thing, he's too old and… well, I just don't think he's a good fit."

Andie glared at the measuring cups, rattling them around in her frustration. "Are you going to stop me from going out with him?"

Joanna sighed. "I could try, but I think that would only make you do it anyway. You've always had your father's stubborn streak. I just…" She stopped what she was doing and looked Andie squarely in the face. "You don't want or need a man who's going to try to overwhelm you, to bring you under his thumb. Neither do you need a man who's going to bow to your every whim, to come as soon as you whistle. You need a man who's strong enough in himself to say yes when it matters but to also say no, to be able to go his own way if he thinks it's the right thing to do. You want a man who will look at you and accept you—all of you—not just the likable parts."

Andie ducked her head, her throat feeling constrained all of a sudden. How did her mother know all that?

"And I don't think that Colby Patel is that man," her mother finished.

"He likes me!" Andie said, looking back up, feeling that she suddenly had to defend him.

"Okay," her mother replied, closing the dish washer and wiping her hands on a towel. "What do you talk about?"

Andie opened her mouth, then closed it.

Her mother waited.

Andie picked at a spot of hardened dough on the counter with her fingernail. "We… don't really. Mostly I talk and he sort of… grunts in reply." The sudden comparison with her parents made her wince. Her parents almost never stopped talking. They were always chatting about something and even when they were quiet it wasn't an awkward quiet like the kind with Colby that Andie struggled to fill with some kind of conversation. No, when her parents were silent it was different. It was… content silence.

"He's the only boy that's noticed me," she said, swiping angrily at her eyes which had suddenly sprouted tears. "To all the other guys I'm that... that tall glowing freak, and I'm sick of the other girls laughing behind my back, and of being… alone."

"Oh Andie." Her mother come over and wrapped her in a hug, getting floury handprints on her shirt.

"I'm sorry about my grades and about Colby," Andie said, muffled against her mother's shoulder. "I'll break it off with him. I don't… I mean, I do like him, but I feel like it's mostly on my side. All he wants to do is make out."

Joanna's hands stilled on her daughter's back. "Andie," she said cautiously, "he hasn't tried to…" She trailed off.

Andie blushed and pulled away, clattering around more of the utensils to hide her embarrassment. "No, not yet anyway, plus I remembered what you told me. Please don't give me the sex talk again."

Joanna laughed. "Okay." They continued their clean up for a few moments until Joanna looked over at her daughter again. "How did you and Colby end up together anyway? I never thought the he looked at you except as Erik's little sister."

Andie shrugged. "I've been hanging out with Marie more since those stupid girls at school were being mean, so I was always there when Colby was home from college." She ducked her head, blushing. "I… I've liked him for awhile… so I talked to him. We'd watch movies and stuff. I mean, Marie was there, but it was almost like a date. But then he came to one of the soccer games and seemed impressed. I think he finally noticed that I wasn't a kid anymore." She cleaned her hands at the sink. "The other day, when dad caught us… kissing, I mean… that was the first time we did that."

"Well, I am sorry, sweetie. I can see that you care about him," her mother said softly. "This will be hard, but ultimately, I think it will be a good decision."

Andie didn't reply, feeling her stomach drop at the thought. Sensing her distress, her mother held up an orange, its cheery color bright in the palm of her hand. "Let's make the filling. That way, it'll be ready to go when the dough is done."

Andie took the orange , feeling its firm flesh, smelling the sweetness as she scraped a bit of the rind with a fingernail. "Okay," she said.