"Where were you last night?" my mother asksat the breakfast table. Her nostrils flare as she stares at me.

"I don't know ... out," I reply.

"With whom?"she questions.

"Friends, does it matter?"

"When you come home at 3 a.m. on a school night, it doesmatter. Don't think you can pull this kind of stuff this year. Thingsare going to change around here. You don't come and go when you feellike it," she says sternly.

"Mom, you don't need to repeatyourself. I'm not deaf, you know." I leave the kitchen and go to myroom.

Where was I last night? I wonder as I fumble through mydrawers. The last thing I remember I was at Jenn's house with a bunch offriends drinking beer. I must have passed out.

Everything haschanged since my dad left. Mom goes to work and comes home every once inawhile, leaving me to fend for myself. I hate staying home alone, soeither I stay with friends or stay out past curfew. I shouldn't havegone out last night. I feel sick to my stomach, and am sotired.

Rushing to the kitchen to grab my bag, I see my mothersitting in the living room. She tells me to come straight home afterschool, because there are things that need to be discussed.

"I know, Mom," I reply snottily.

"I love you,"she says.

"I love you, too, Mom," I whisper. I don't knowif she heard me.