Amelia’s eyebrows rose, and Whitney knew then that she’d been too eager. Asked too many questions.

“Sure,” Amelia said. It wasn’t an answer.

“Okay. I guess as long as you clean up your room, she can come over.” Whitney kept her voice nonchalant, masking the discomfort she felt.

“Thanks, Mom.” Amelia smiled, before shoving her earbuds into her ears and staring out the window.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. And Whitney would take anything she could get.

The tightness in her chest loosened a little. The girl she’d raised, the one with the sweet smile and a million words on her tongue, was in there. This was merely a phase. It wouldn’t last forever. As Whitney drove, her shoulders relaxed, and she bobbed her head to the soft jazz that floated through the speakers. It clearly wasn’t as loud as Amelia’s pop music. Whitney could hear it almost as well as her own. Well enough to catch Ariana Grande’s distinct tone.

At the stoplight, Amelia stared out the window. Whitney heard a little ping interrupt the music blasting through her earbuds and Amelia’s head shot downward. Following her gaze, Whitney read the notification.

Phil Lopez sent you a Snapchat.

Amelia smothered the phone with her hand when she noticed Whitney looking. The traffic light changed. Before releasing her foot off the brake, Whitney gently bumped her daughter’s knee with her hand. Craning her neck, Amelia popped out one earbud.

The music still played, a harsh muffled beat as it dangled off her shoulder.

“Who’s Phil?”

“No one.”

“No one, huh? He must be someone if he’s snapchatting you.”

A car honked behind them.

“God, Mom, go.”

“Not until you answer me.”

Another honk.

Amelia glanced desperately over her shoulder. “Oh, my God, Mom, you’re so annoying. He’s just a guy in one of my classes. He was asking about an assignment.” She shoved the earbud back in.

Amelia had a tell. She bit the inside of her mouth when she lied.

She was doing it now.

But a third honk forced Whitney’s foot off the brake. Her car moved forward while her mind spun with questions. Who was Phil? Amelia had never mentioned him. Actually, she never mentioned any boys. Probably because she wasn’t allowed to date until she was sixteen.

Which was happening in a month...

Whitney’s stomach twisted.

She planned to press Amelia on it when they got to the apartment, but Amelia hopped out the minute the car was parked, before Whitney even had time to shut off the car. Then she walked swiftly up the stairs, earbuds locked in place. Whitney did her best to keep up but by the time she made it inside, Amelia was in her bedroom with the door shut.

A bird chirped from inside Whitney’s pocket. She yanked out her phone.

Natalie: Are the photos of the new line ready?