“Casey invited me to her slumber party!” The words burst from her throat like an explosion of candy from a piñata.

Her mom had responded less enthusiastically. She pursed her lips. “I don’t think I know Casey. Do I?”

“No...I...um...I don’t think so.” Amelia’s heart faltered.

“Then it’s probably not a good idea.”

Amelia’s heart sank. She should’ve known. Her mom said no to everything. Why couldn’t she have a cool mom like Casey’s?

“But, Mo-o-om,” she whined. “Please.”

“I’ve already made up my mind.”

Usually, Amelia let these things go. She’d never known her mom to change her mind once it was made up. But the next day when all the girls were talking about the plans for the sleepover, she was infected with a major case of FOMO. That’s why when they asked her if she was coming, she said, “Of course.”

That night at dinner, she begged her mom to the point she thought for sure she’d be in trouble. But to her surprise, her mom gave in.

“Fine. But I need to talk to Casey’s mom ahead of time and make sure she’s going to be there the whole time.”

Amelia’s cheeks preemptively burned with the embarrassment she knew she’d feel when Casey told everyone about this. And she for sure would. There was no way any of the other parents were going to act this way.

Amelia had the most overbearing mom on the planet.

But she was willing to endure it in order to attend the sleepover. So, she gave her mom the phone number. And to her shock, no one ever made fun of her for it. Maybe Casey’s mom hadn’t even told her about the phone call. Or maybe Amelia was wrong, and her mom wasn’t that different from other moms. Either way, she was grateful.

But her biggest challenge was still ahead of her and it was one Amelia hadn’t anticipated. The evening of the sleepover, while Amelia packed up her overnight bag, nerves attacked her insides, a sudden flurry of ants coming up out of a mountain of dirt. She’d never spent the night at a friend’s house. Her mind was filled with all the unknowns. Where would she sleep? What if she had a nightmare? Got scared? What if the other kids were mean to her and she was stuck there? In that moment, she’d kind of wished her mom had stood her ground, continued to tell her no.

She stopped packing, sat back on her heels, her knees tucked under her body, and she began to cry.

“What’s wrong?” Her mom rushed in. As she knelt beside her, she touched her cheek, brushed a sticky strand of hair back. It felt good. Comforting.

Amelia leaned into it.

“Amelia?”

Her gaze met her mom’s. “I’m scared,” she admitted.