Alex groaned as she trudged into the kitchen feeling like she'd been hit by a truck. She desperately needed caffeine like she'd never needed it before and nothing was going to stop her.

In fact, she didn't even notice her mother's presence until she'd gulped down half a cup of coffee, at which point she noticed movement from the corner of her eye. Looking up sharply, she yelped, "Mom! What...umm...what are you doing? I thought you had to work."

"I decided to work from home today upon seeing your condition last night," Moira said.

She winced as the sun came out from behind a cloud and came streaming in the window, the bright light making her skull throb. "My condition?" she repeated.

Moira nodded. "You're lucky that Lensherr girl was able to drive you home..."

"Emily?" she squeaked, memories of the night before coming rushing back through the haze of her hangover.

If Moira thought the reaction was odd, she didn't comment on it, for which Alex was grateful. "I've been told first hangovers are the worst," Moira said in sympathy.

"You're told?" Alex echoed. She poured herself a second cup of coffee, then shuffled across the room to sit opposite of her mother.

"Well, I've always consumed alcohol responsibly, but your father was a bit of a partier before we met. Actually, it's kind of how we met," she explained.

Alex heaved a sigh, anticipating being chewed out for getting drunk and really wasn't in the mood to hear it.

"I'm not angry, Alex," Moira said.

"But...?" Alex prompted.

Moira responded with a soft smile. "I'm not. You're a teenager, you're allowed to make a few bad decisions every now and then." Alex couldn't seem to form a sentence at that, so Moira continued, "I know I put a lot of pressure on you to be perfect all the time, but it's okay to occasionally make mistakes. I'll still be proud of you. I am still proud of you."

"Really?" Alex asked incredulously. She wasn't used to this kind of gentleness from her mother.

Moira's smile was encouraging. "Of course."

"Cool. I mean...thanks." She shrugged awkwardly. A beat. Then, something occurred to her. "Wait! Daddy didn't see me drunk, did he?"

With a little laugh, Moira shook her head. "No, he was fast asleep when Emily poured you into bed. Your secret is safe with me."

Everything that followed Emily's name was white noise. She pressed her thighs together in what she hoped was a surreptitious manner. It wasn't until she heard James' name falling from her mother's lips that she came crashing back to Earth. "Wh-what about James?" she stuttered.

Moira's expression was pointed. "I said you're lucky your father didn't see that massive hickey James gave you..."

Alex gasped, clasped a hand to her neck, having completely forgotten about the mark. "Mom, I..." she started, unsure what to say that wouldn't sound trampy."

She waved dismissively. "I was young once too," she said. "Your hormones are going a little crazy, I get it. Just please please be safe. Do you want to get on the pill?"

"Eww, Mom! Stop! Stop forever!" Alex begged. "I'm not having sex with James! Or anyone else for that matter. Just making out, okay"

Moira held up her hands in self-defence. "Understood."

When Emily climbed into Alex's car on Monday morning, she made a dramatic show of raking her eyes over her. Alex didn't miss the way her gaze lingered on her neck.

"So, that's how it is?" Emily remarked dryly noticing the faint sheen of make up covering the hickey.

"How what is?" Alex said and it was unclear whether she genuinely didn't understand or whether she was being purposely obtuse.

Either way, Emily gave her a pointed look and said, "Is it the hickey you object to or the fact that I'm the one who gave it to you?"

The look Alex responded with was positively withering. "I knew what you meant, I was just hoping you would take a hint!"

"A hint?" she huffed.

"Yeah, the huge fucking neon sign saying I don't want to talk about this!" Alex snapped. Immediately, she felt guilty for shouting at her. "I'm sorry, but for God's sake, you cannot be surprised by this..."

Emily's expression was positively defiant. "Why don't you explain what exactly this is for those of us in the cheap seats..."

"This!" Alex repeated emphatically. "Us! We cannot be a 'thing'!"

"Why the fuck not?"

For a moment, Alex's gaze became pleading, silently begging her not to do this...but now that her fury had been ignited, Emily wasn't backing down now. Alex felt tears well in her eyes, but fought to keep them from spilling. She shook her head once, twice, her tongue flicking out over her lip. Finally, she had regained enough composure to say, "Because no one can know I'm gay..."

In spite of wanting to hold onto her anger, Emily felt her heart go out to Alex. If she'd known Alex wasn't out, she wouldn't have marked her. "I thought you were hiding because you didn't want James to know..."

"I just have to keep up appearances for two more years and then I can tell them when we're separated by the entire country so they can't immediately murder me," she said, completely serious.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Emily said. "I wasn't trying to out you, I thought the whole point was to piss off your boyfriend for flirting with that volleyball slut all night..."

Alex looked like she would've liked to continue arguing the finer points of the events of the previous night, but ultimately, she just shook her head. "Emily, I'm quite literally begging you to keep your mouth shut about what happened. I don't regret it, but you're holding my life in your hands here. I trusted you with my secret."

Emily sighed softly. "Okay, Alex. I won't say anything. But I think your dad would understand, since he's a whole ass twink..."

She very nearly inhaled her sip of coffee and spent several long moments coughing and sputtering. "Excuse me!?"

"I thought you knew," Emily said, expression genuinely surprised. "Your dad's gay."

"What... Are you... No! There's no way! I mean..." Alex sputtered, struggling to think straight. "He and my mom have obviously fucked, so..."

Emily shrugged, rolled her eyes. "Maybe he's bi, but still..."

Alex clearly wasn't sold, but their opportunity to discuss it was cut short by their arrival at school.