“And that’s it? He put you to bed, and promised not to tell me anything?”

Tegan wrings her fingers. “I think Luke wanted me to realize the right thing to do was to tell you myself.”

A memory of the hurt look in his eyes when I said I couldn’t trust him haunts me. The toll to keep silent must’ve been high, at least if his feelings were as strong as mine. Are they, still? I put a pin in that thought to analyze it later. Right now, I need to deal with my daughter.

“And in the meantime, you just walked free?”

“No, Mom. I’m grounded.”

I stare at her. “I didn’t ground you.”

“Luke did.” She begins listing her punishments. “No phone, no laptop except for homework, and no going out save for volleyball games.”

I wondered why she was still using that relic of a phone I gave her, when her grounding was supposed to have ended weeks ago.

“That’s not true,” I say. “You’ve been going to the movies each Saturday for a month.”

“No, Mom, Luke has been taking me to AA meetings for endangered teens,” Tegan says this with a slight roll of her eyes, as if she still thinks everyone’s overreacting. But in my head, another penny drops.

“He’s been spending all his Saturday nights with you?”

“Yes, Mom, and he has season tickets to the Knicks, so he can’t be too happy about it.”

“Wait, so the Saturday after the party, Lucas was with you?”

“I told you, it’s part of our deal.”

My mind is racing. “So when I went to his house, he must’ve been on his way to meet you?”

“You went to see him?”

“Yes, and I made an even bigger ass of myself.” I get up, suddenly not able to sit for a second longer. “You’re grounded,” I tell Tegan. “Well, more grounded than you already are.”

She nods, resigned. “I know, Mom.”

“And we’re going to discuss everything that’s happened—”

“I’d figured…”

“—when I come back. But I need to go now.”

She follows me into the hall as I throw on a pair of Uggs over my leggings and grab my keys.

I put on my coat, open the front door, and point a finger at my daughter. “Do not leave the house for any reason.” I pause, reconsidering. “Unless there’s a fire or something.”

“Go, Mom, and don’t worry about me. I’m going to bed, and I know I won’t be allowed to go out again until I’m eighteen.”

Tegan says it half as a joke, but I tend to agree with her. It will take a long time before I’ll trust her again.