ing right now? Ignoring her, I swing a glare back on Connor.
“You’re very rude.”
He blinks, parting his lips like I’ve surprised him. Maybe he expected me to curse him out or slap him, like other girls at our school might. Loud, confident girls. But that’s not me. I only raise my voice if there’s no other choice. Bolstered by catching him off guard, I give him another piece of my mind.
“There’s nothing wrong with the way I choose to dress, whether it’s a potato sack, my favorite sweater, or this.” I fist the hem of my shirt, revealing a tiny strip of skin. Connor impresses me slightly by holding out longer than I expected, but his gaze drops to my midsection after a few beats. “And besides all that, I dress for me, not you, or anyone else. You don’t like my sweaters? Tough. So you can just leave me alone and go back to ignoring me.”
I don’t raise my voice, it even quavers a little at the end. Pride burns in my chest, pleased with myself for standing my ground and telling the jerk off.
This bravery has been growing since I first texted Wyatt, because I don’t have to live in fear, hiding myself away. I would never have had the guts to stand up to Connor before. Saying how I feel is empowering, both new and unfamiliar.
It’s short-lived when Mom appears at my side. My eyes widen as she waves me to follow impatiently.
“Thea, inside, now.” Mom huffs when I don’t immediately snap into motion. She’s acting like Connor has a contagious disease with how embarrassing she’s being. My life was already hard facing his teasing without her going all psycho mom on me. “I can’t believe you went out like—” She cuts herself off with a frustrated sound. “Let’s go.”
I tug my arm from her grasp when she tries to take my wrist. “What’s the matter? I’m coming, okay? Connor and I go to school together. We were just saying hello on my way back from walking.”
Her livid expression says it all. God, what is her freaking deal? Doesn’t she realize how insane she seems, dragging her grown daughter inside, away from a boy? Her lip curls and she shoots Connor a poisonous look.
“Stay away from this boy, Thea. I don’t want you talking to him.”
Connor watches the entire exchange with a bored expression, fingers tucked in the sides of his basketball shorts. He meets Mom’s nasty gaze with an arrogant grin, like he knows exactly how much he pisses her off.
“See you later, neighbor,” Connor says, eyes half-lidded and locked on me.
There’s something about the way he says it that makes my skin break out in a ripple of hot and cold.
Mom releases a bitchy scoff and nudges me toward the house, Constantine following. As soon as we cross the threshold, she lays into me, saying what she refused to air in front of our neighbor.
“How could you go out dressed like that?” She flings her hand at me in jerky movements, indicating my top.
My temper rises. I kept my cool with Connor, but Mom sets me off. She never listens to me when I’m quiet. Arguing with her, I don’t have any choice but to raise my voice, or she’d never hear me.
“There is nothing wrong with what I’m wearing, Mom!” I unclip Constantine and he trots off toward the kitchen, the sound of him lapping up water filtering through to the vaulted entryway where Mom and I face off with each other. “These are workout clothes and it was hot.”
“Thea!” Her disappointed cry follows me as I go into the kitchen, picking out ingredients and pulling out the mixing bowls. Screw the ice cream, I need to shut my racing mind up. “I don’t care how hot out it is, boys will see you dressing like that and think you’re advertising you’re welcome to their advances!”
If Dad didn’t travel so much for work, maybe we wouldn’t always be at each other’s throats. But he’s not here to create a buffer, currently away for another regional conference. I’m on my own against her.
“Do you hear yourself, Mom?” I whirl on her, slamming a whisk on the white countertop. Mom startles. I almost jump myself. Being so confrontational isn’t my style. The burst of indignation burned hot and fast at what she said, and I just acted. “This isn’t the flipping dark ages. No one is going to freak out because I’m walking around in leggings.”
“They will if you’re only half dressed! Your bra straps are—”
“Mom, so help me, if you are about to say something about my sports bra being visible, I will lose it.” It’s like I can’t even breathe when I’m smothered by her. Constantine comes to sit by my feet, leaning against my leg. I turn back to my baking supplies, surveying what I grabbed on instinct as I continue ranting, getting on a real roll now that I’ve broken the dam. “Besides, boys need to learn to control themselves so I don’t have to put myself out and be uncomfortable in the heat in order to keep their eyes off me. And why am I living in fear of a boy looking at me? Why is that so bad? It’s human nature!”
Once it slips out, it occurs to me those are Connor’s words.
Moving to the other side of the kitchen, Mom hisses at me, “They’re out of control. None of them know how to behave.”
“Seriously!” I toss my arms up in frustration. Talking to her is impossible when she gets on these topics. She’s so backwards. “That is such a sexist idea that I have to change and be the one to protect myself, and that all boys are dick-for-brains animals driven by their impulses. It’s a ridiculous argument, Mom, and it’s complete crap.”
Her eyes bulge and she opens and closes her mouth a few times, searching for some way to respond to my call out. I can’t decide whether she’s more pissed I said dick or that I disagreed with her. I stand my ground through it all, hands planted on the counter, armed with my baking supplies for fortitude. Having Constantine’s solid weight against my leg helps, too.
When she turns a concerning shade of purple, she gives up on whatever she was going to say and rushes out of the room, leaving Constantine and me alone.
“Well,” I say, glancing at the chubby rottweiler at my feet. “Let’s bake.”
Within minutes, I lose myself to the methodical process that quiets my mind and melts away my stress.