Page 101 of Kiss Me Tonight

Ignoring the way my heart palpitates at the prospect of him leaving, I turn to the next form. No pointed comment this time, thank you, universe, but wait . . . I drag the paper closer, my glasses slipping down the bridge of my nose, and look from student signature to parent signature.

Harry Blackwater.

Heather Blackwater.

I lean back in my chair, turning my head to call out, “Topher! Baby, can you come in here a second?”

“Mooommm!What did we say about you calling me baby?” he shouts back, seconds before I hear his feet moving across the hardwood floor in the hallway. A second pair of footsteps join in—Timmy came over to hang out today—before they’re both standing in the entryway to the kitchen.

The younger boy shifts his hands behind his back, like he’s standing in military formation. “I told Chris that I think it’s cool that you still call him baby. My mom calls mehey, you.”

My brows shoot up. “Chris?”

“Yeah.” Completely oblivious to my confusion, Timmy points to Topher. “He’s been trying it out. Seeing if he likes it as a nickname.”

Topher grimaces. “Ma, it’s just that . . .” His hands come up, wringing together. “Okay, so when I went mini-golfing with Dom-CoachDaSilva, I asked him what he thought about my name.”

“Why in the world would you do that?”

“Because he’s aguy, Mom. And even if you haven’t noticed it, some of the seniors make fun of it. Topher, I mean.”

“What he’s saying is that they make fun of him for answering to the nickname Topher,” Timmy explains, his head bobbing up and down. “I get it. I want to go by Tim, but I can’t get anyone to jump on board. Itsucks.”

My gaze volleys back to my son, who’s watching me like I shouldtotallybe getting where he’s coming from. His eyes implore me to understand when he continues, “So I asked Coach DaSilva, like, what do you think about my name? And he said,It’s not bad.But I could hear it in his voice that he was acting, just like when he pretended to be bad at mini-golf, so I asked him again, and this time he goes,Listen, kid, I’m not one to talk because I don’t even know who I’m named after or if my mom just picked Dominic out of a hat, but Topher . . . Topher’s a bit of a pansy name. Chris is strong, though. Manly.”

A pansy name.

If Dominic were standing in front of me right now, I’d punch him in the gut.Stepdad? The man can’t even pull himself together to tell a kid that he’s perfect as he is!

“Topher,” I start slowly, choosing my words carefully, “you can’t go by the name Chris.”

“Sure I can.” He grins widely at me, all teenage confidence. “It’s called choosing your own identity. I want to be a Chris.”

I choke back a laugh. “You can’t. I mean, you can later on if you want but it’s going to take time and money.” When he only stares at me, confusion shining in his blue eyes, I say, “Topher is your given name on your birth certificate, buddy. Not Christopher. Not Chris. Just Topher.”

“Just Topher,” he echoes as though in a fog.

“Man, that sucks,” Timmy says, punching my son in the arm. “I can still call you Chris, if you want? No one has to know.”

“But I’ll know.” Topher drops his arms to his side in complete defeat. “Mom always says it’s not good to lie. It’s beneath us.”

That’s my baby boy.

“Speaking of not lying . . .” Gesturing for him to come forward, I point to Harry Blackwater’s parent form. These signatures . . . they are way too similar to simply be a coincidence. The block letters are more in tune with a sixteen-year-old boy’s handwriting than an adult woman’s penmanship. “Mrs. Blackwater. Has Harry mentioned anything about her?”

Topher and Timmy exchange a look, and my Mom radar goes haywire.

I point to the chairs opposite me. “Sit.”

Grumbling, Topher plops down into the closest chair. “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

“I told you we should have had someone else fake her signature,” Timmy mutters out of the corner of his mouth. “My mom would have done it.”

From where I’m sitting, this does not look good.

“Would have donewhat, Tim? Sign Harry’s release form?”

When his lips clamp shut, I home in on my own kid. “Topher. What’s wrong with Heather Blackwater?”

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