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Diana M., Indio, CA

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   Is this room spinning? I wonder where James is. Iwant to go home.

I can't believe I let this happen. My mother and I hadargued for hours about me coming to this party. I told her it would be okay, thatI'd be in control and wouldn't do anything wrong. She said it spelled trouble,but finally let me go. I remember what she said - "I trust you." Whydid she have to say that? It's instant pressure. I jumped into the car with Jamesand we left, two kids ready to party.

I think I need to sit down, I'venever felt like this before. I make my way to the couch, where Katie's kissingsomeone who's not her boyfriend. I fall into a seat and try to place my drink onthe end table. As I let go, I watch it fall to the floor in slow motion, spillingeverywhere. I can't bring myself to pick it up.

I lean my head back andstart to think again. I really don't want to be here, but I don't want to hear itfrom my mom. She'll be so disappointed. She'll never let me go out again and,worst of all, she'll never trust me.

I feel sick. I try to pick myself upoff the couch but I fall back. I make it on my second try. I stumble toward thekitchen, look at the phone on the wall and think of what my mom told me when Ientered high school. "No matter what, you can always call," she'dsaid.

I start to cry thinking about it. What will she say? Will she yell?What if she doesn't say anything at all? I pick up the phone anyway and slowlydial my number. It rings twice, then I hear the familiar,

cheeryvoice.

"Hello?"

"Mom, it'sme."

"Hey, hun."

"Mom ... please come getme."

I listen for a moment, dreading her next words, anxious for areply. I finally get one.

"Of course. I'll be rightthere."






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