Page 40 of Crazy for this Girl

I’m going to kill her.

This is going—no, it’s already started a chain reaction of Mom on her crap again with me and boys. Like I’ve ever had a boy go up to my room before. I mean, it’s laughable that I’d even try. She’d probably camp outside my bedroom with a bunch of magazines and throw pillows.

Without anything to say, Mom and I stare at each other for a beat before she breaks the silence.

“Laynee, I think we should talk about—”

“I have some homework to do. A really big paper I have to write for English, Mom.” I begin for the stairs because I’m just not doing this right now.

“Honey, I know this is perplexing time for you as a woman. You’re growing up and you’ve hit puberty—”

“Mom, pleaseee,” I groan out, already sprinting up the stairs. “I’m good.”

“But Hannah is your best friend and—”

“It doesn’t mean we do the same things.”

“We have to talk about this.”

No, we don’t.

We’re not—ever.

“Laynee—” I close my door, placing my back to it because my mental state can not do another boy talk with her.

It really just can’t.

And what I’m afraid of most is her getting into my time with Cal this summer because she’s so paranoid.

Powering on my phone again, I text Cal back.

LAYNEE: I forgot the question.

CAL: What good are you going to be to me if you already have the beginning signs of alzheimers?

LAYNEE: Honestly, I wish I had it more severely because Mom is driving me insane right now.

CAL: Did she want to go with you dress shopping again? You know she’s going to pick out something with long sleeves that goes up to your neck.

LAYNEE: Apparently, she ran into Hannah’s mom at the grocery store. And Hannah got caught with a boy in her room.

CAL: That was recklessly stupid of her.

CAL: You’re supposed to lock the door.

LAYNEE: Wait…are you speaking from experience or something?

CAL: Or something.

LAYNEE: Speak English. What does that mean?

CAL: It means it’s common sense.

LAYNEE: Don’t tell me you’ve done it.

CAL: Why?

Yeah, Laynee, why?

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