“You seem to be big on sexual accidents, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Does the name Meagan ring a bell?”

“She doesn’t count.”

“I don’t see why not. But that’s beside the point. I thought Jade was a nice girl.”

“She is a nice girl. I love her. And just because she slept with me doesn’t make her a slut.”

“Did you hear me call her a slut?”

“No, but you’re implying it by your tone.”

“Don’t tell me what my tone implies. And don’t try to put words in my mouth either. Where’s my purse?”

“Right in front of you, Ma.”

When I pick it up, that’s when I remember that what I’m looking for isn’t in it. Which means I have nothing to rescue me from this bullshit going on in front me. Nothing. I’m waiting for the Smart Side of Me to step up to the plate and deal with this, but she must be dozing or something, because, the next thing I know, I hear myself say, “I forgot my wallet at the store. We have to finish this conversation when I get back.”

“I can go get it for you.”

“No! I’ll get it myself,” I say, and fly out the door. Before I even know it, I’m back in the parking lot. With the engine running, I turn my brights on and try to look nonchalant as I search the pavement for white pills. I don’t see any. This is impossible, because I just tossed them out here! I walk around in circles and then stand in the spot where I parked before and try to imagine every possible direction they could’ve rolled in, and that’s when I notice that parts of the pavement are wet. The sprinkler system has been watering these fucking little trees, and when I go over and stand next to one, I finally see something white. I bend down and with one fingernail, scoop up what is now apparently a pile of gooey white paste. I can’t. I won’t. And I don’t.

When I get home, Dingus is in his room. I knock on his door and don’t wait for him to tell me to come in. I sit down on the edge of his bed. It’s hot in here. Very hot. “Talk to me,” I say.

“I don’t know what to say, except she’s pregnant.”

“And? When is she going to get the abortion?”

“Who said anything about an abortion?”

I know he didn’t just say what I thought he said. “Have you gone and lost your fucking mind, boy?”

“Ma, please don’t swear at me. I don’t like it. And you promised you would never use that word and you just used it.”

“Fuck you, Dingus!”

He puts his head in his hands and covers his ears. “Look, Ma. I messed up. We messed up. But I’m willing to accept responsibility for this.”

“So—does this mean that you just want to throw away your chances for a scholarship and forfeit college because of a girl?”