Speechless(185)

                * * *

                Sam is the first boy to ever set foot in my room. Well,                     the first nonblood relative, at least. Mom and Dad have this whole “boundaries”                     thing going on, and I’ve never had a real boyfriend before, so it was never an                     issue I had to deal with. I manage to sneak him in through the side door, and                     then herd him straight into my room while I check in with my parents. They’re in                     bed—Dad’s already fast asleep, and Mom’s reading some thick book by the light of                     the muted television. When she sees me, she slides a bookmark between the pages                     and takes off her glasses.

                “I didn’t hear you come in,” she says with a smile. Thankfully                     that means she didn’t hear the second set of footsteps, either. “Did you have a                     good time?”

                “The best,” I tell her. “I’m pretty tired. Guess I’m gonna head                     to bed now.”

                I go over to kiss her good-night, and Mom touches the side of                     my face and says, “You look very happy. That’s all I care about, you know?”

                I smile back. “I know.”

                I’m a lucky girl. I really am. To have parents like this, ones                     who care enough to worry, who care enough to smother. I need to remember                     that.

                I slip back into my bedroom and close the door, and when I turn                     around, I see Sam, his back to me as he looks around the room. I’m suddenly                     totally self-conscious. Even though ever since The Great Purging there isn’t                     much to see.

                He faces me, my Nelly dog in his hands. Oh, God. That’s                     embarrassing.

                “I met your friend,” he says. He cups the back of Nelly’s neck                     and bobs her droopy head up and down. “Arf, arf.”

                “I think she likes you.”

                “Well, we’ve been bonding.”

                I let out a fake gasp. “Uh-oh. Does this mean I have some                     competition?”

                “She’s cute, but I don’t think so. There’s only one girl for                     me,” he says. His smile is like floodlights, lighting up everything.