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their voices down my throat. “She loves it, Maddie.”
    “I do.”
    “Well then tell your face that’s what you mean,” Maddie said, the sass vibrated throughout the mall. “I don’t ask you to be nice to me.”
    “But I do,” Mom said. “Now girls, let’s not make this a thing , the top is beautiful just like you. You’re both my beautiful babies.” She pulled us both along in her arms.
    I was pulled back to the phone buzzing in my hand; three missed calls and several texts from Dylan. I couldn’t stomach looking, so I turned it off.
     
     
     

Chapter Seven
     
    We reached home before I turned my phone on to more of Dylan’s calls or texts. I rushed straight to my room and threw myself on the bed. I punched in Dylan’s name and called him, to his many babes and answer me ’s; he’d better answer before the first ring.
    “Zo, what happened?” he asked, and all the pent up anger I’d had over him discussing us vanished, like a hot breath after so long of holding it in, it cooled over me. “Zo? Are you okay?”
    “Yeah, sorry,” I said, “I was with my mom. The girls were saying shit about us, and it annoyed me like you didn’t want to wait until prom, and you told all the guys.”
    There was a break in silence. I laid back and stared up at the ceiling. “No, it’s not like that,” he said. “They were asking me why we were waiting, and I told them it was because I love you, we’d decided on prom.”
    “But if I didn’t want to wait anymore, what would you say?” It was a leading question, as much as I didn’t want to test him. It was something I wanted to know.
    “I’d trust you to make a decision on when you’re ready,” he replied. “I love you, Zo, you know that, right?”
    I nodded to myself. “I know,” I said. “I love you too.”
    “Oh, and my dad is coming home tonight so I won’t be able to make dinner,” he said. “Apparently he brought a new girlfriend home with him, so you know that’s going to be fun .” He laughed nervously.
    I knew Dylan hated it when his dad brought one of his many girlfriends over, let alone introducing him to them; he somewhat guessed their names based on popular stripper names or the pretentious name of a paint color. “What’s her name this time?” I asked.
    “Candy? Jazmonique? Caramel Shortcake?” he reeled off, “your guess is as good as mine.” He laughed harder.
    “Money is on Caramel,” I said. “Where did he go?”
    I could feel him shrug. “Phoenix or Tucson, so maybe something earthy.”
    “Definitely Caramel,” I said.
    “I’ll tell you when they get here.”
    Before long, we’d finished on the phone. Dylan had gone for dinner with his dad, and I was still staring up at the ceiling with my phone clutched to my chest. The buzz and beep of texts whirled in.
    It wasn’t unusual for me to disconnect myself from the internet and friends. I’d felt too connected recently. I had to paint to ground myself. I usually spent most of my time at the easel in my room covered in licks of paints.
    The weekend was already over. Dylan revealed the name of his dad’s new girlfriend, Carmelita; an off-brand caramel product found small Latino shops. I finally felt some normality from the incident at homecoming. I bathed in a bubble bath, sitting in the water until I was cold and wrinkled. It had been my mom’s answer to all life’s problems since I was little.
    Dylan picked me up in his dad’s convertible. I climbed in, greeted by a kiss. It was either Dylan or Char picking me up, and I preferred it when Dylan did. He made me warm inside, kissing me and telling me how pretty I was, even when I was carrying five pounds of water and PMSing.
    “You’re gorgeous,” he said, on cue. “Do you have practice after school?”
    I kissed him and sat back to lock the seat belt in place. “Yeah. You?”
    “Hardcore now homecoming is over,” he said. “Coach wants us to be on our A game.”
    “There’s a cheer competition in a few