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short and sweet. That was probably a good thing, considering I was an inadequate texter.
    â€œSophie?” Mom called again.
    â€œAlmost finished,” I said, turning on the faucet. I let the water run while I composed my masterpiece.
    SOPHIE: Sure. After school?
    DREW: Unless you’re feeling delinquent.
    Oh, I’d feel whatever he wanted me to feel.
    SOPHIE: Always. But I’ll be good.
    DREW: Okay, see you then.
    SOPHIE: See you then!
    I regretted the exclamation point as soon as I typed it, but it was true. A thousand exclamation points couldn’t even begin to express how excited I was.
    â€œNice job on the dishes,” Mom said, appearing in the doorway.
    I turned off the faucet.
    â€œYou are definitely grounded,” she said. “Phone, please.”
    â€œMom! You just gave it to me. Plus it’s the weekend. I have plans.”
    â€œNot anymore,” she said. “I need to keep tabs on you until we figure this thing out.”
    As if “this thing” was something to be figured out, especially by someone who thought the only problem I had was an overactive imagination. At least, that’s what Mom told herself and, by association, me.
    â€œBut this is my first offense,” I said, handing her the phone. “Don’t I at least get a warning?”
    â€œWhat about me?” Mom said. “Where’s my warning? I never know what’s going on with you, and you won’t tell me, so I have to hear it from your principal. From now on, I want the truth. And I want to hear it from you.”
    Mom thought she wanted the truth, but she didn’t. No one did, because once it was out there, you couldn’t take it back. I wanted nothing more than to tell her that, without warning, I played poker with a panda marching band. I saw the lunch ladies cover the Ramones. And I had a shaman panda who thought that all of this meant something, that I was on a path. I wanted to tell her how hard it was to have a reality you couldn’t count on, especially in another new town. But more than that, I wanted to make her promise not to leave like Dad did. I wanted her to tell me I’d never be alone.
    â€œThat thing in the cafeteria wasn’t my fault,” I said.
    â€œOh, no?” she said, shaking her head. “That’s what your father used to say. You can do better than that.”
    Balzac meowed and hopped in my lap.
    â€œWhat if I don’t want to?” I said, stroking his fur.
    â€œThen you’ll sit in your room and think about it until you do,” she said.
    â€œFine,” I said, hopping up, sending Balzac flying.
    â€œNo going out, no phone, no Internet until I say so.”
    â€œHow am I supposed to do my homework?” I said, already missing the chats I was planning with Finny in my mind. I couldn’t wait to tell him about Drew.
    â€œUse that old typewriter you love so much.”
    â€œThis is so unfair,” I said. Especially now that I had a boy who liked me, a potential date and gossip to convey. This was the first time in my life I’d actually needed technology, which meant her penalty was even more punishing than she realized. I was hoping she’d cave in, but instead she used the same line as every other parent in America.
    â€œLife is unfair,” she said. “Go to your room.”
    I marched upstairs, slammed my door and played Bauhaus at full volume. In seconds, my room filled with the droning sound of bass, Peter Murphy and the energy of my own anger. So instead of fighting it, I gave in to it, taking off my shoes, flopping on my bed and bemoaning my fate. Just like a normal teenager.

EIGHT

    â€œCan I come in?”
    Mom knocked on my door and then opened it.
    â€œYou’re already in,” I said, yawning. At some point, I had fallen asleep, record sleeves and books all around me.
    â€œIn bed already?”
    â€œIncarceration is exhausting,” I said, popping my arms out of