“I am your home.”

Vague memories of getting home and getting into bed, of Sebastian crawling in with me, his warmth pressed against my back, and his arm wrapped around my waist fill my dreams. But I wake up alone, in my own bed, wearing nothing but my bra and panties. Rolling to my back, I stare up at the ceiling. A plan came to me at some point last night, it’s risky, but it might work. Sebastian is all about reputation. His family name is powerful, he’s a force to be reckoned with at school and even at seventeen he’s a formidable opponent.

He's acting like an adult, so maybe it’s time to revert to a more playground-like defense. I’m going to make a scene. I’m going to wait for the perfect moment and I’m going to call him out, shout and scream and call him names. It’s childish and juvenile, but right about now it’s the only idea I have. If it works, he’ll be embarrassed for himself and of me and he’ll have to leave me alone because it will ruin his reputation to have a crazy girlfriend who acts like a ten-year-old. If it doesn’t work, then… well honestly, I’m not sure, but I have a feeling him taking over my life and bartering to get me naked will feel like a walk in the park compared to what he’ll have in store for me.

Dragging myself out of bed I get ready for school, and then head downstairs in search of my mom. I expect to find her in her office still in her sleep shirt, her hair mussed, her glasses askew, but instead she’s up, dressed and looking… good.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she says in an upbeat singsong voice.

“You look nice,” I tell her, taking in her slim-fitted jeans, pale-pink silk blouse and low-heeled black ankle boots. She’s even styled her normally crazy hair into sleek curls.

“Thanks, sweetie. Miranda, Mary, Heather and I are going shopping, then out for lunch. They’re not picking me up for a couple of hours, but I was just so excited I couldn’t wait, so I got ready.”

“Mom, we can’t afford to shop at the same places as them.”

Mom’s lips purse together. “Starling, I’m getting a little annoyed with you trying to be the parent out of the two of us.”

“Well one of us has to be the grown-up,” I snap, then instantly regret it.

“Young lady, I have kept a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs and food in the cupboards your entire life. You go to an expensive private school, we live in a nice house in a nice area, I suggest you check your attitude right now.”

This is what drives me crazy about my mom. Yes, we have all those things, but for the last few years, I’ve been the one reminding my mom to pay the bills and covering the difference with my wages if there’s not enough in her checking account. I’ve been the one saying I don’t need to go to an expensive private school. I’ve been the one working every shift that’s been available to cover the deficit in our income when her books have had a bad sales month. She may be the parent, but I’m hardly a child.