I should have known the other shoe would drop. Covering one of my hands with hers on the counter, she told me, “You can struggle, Kaye, and work, and go after your dreams. And one wrong move can ruin you forever.”

I didn’t retort as I had last night. I didn’t have the heart. In her precisely made-up eyes, I saw real concern for me, bordering on panic. And I understood where she was coming from. She had braved terrible odds to get to college. By the time she graduated, everyone she’d loved back home was dead.

But she didn’t need to worry about me. Not to this extent, anyway. My own world was nothing like hers had been. My future was not so fragile.

Was it?

“I wanted to apologize for flying off the handle a couple of times yesterday,” she said.

Yep, Dad had definitely talked her down.

She said, “When I was growing up—”

And with that, she lost me. “I don’t want to hear about it,” I said quickly. “You grew up in a slum, surrounded by criminals and addicts. I’m sorry for what you went through, but my life is not like that.”

She glowered at me for interrupting.

“Sorry,” I grumbled.

“What I was going to say,” she told me indignantly, “is that when I was growing up, people all around me made terrible mistakes. And those mistakes were often deadly. For that reason, it’s hard for me to let people I love make mistakes. But you’re right. You’re not in the environment I was in. The mistakes you make won’t kill you. I know that. I’ll try to do better.”

I shrugged, munching a cookie. For her, this was a pretty good apology, but she’d managed simultaneously to accuse me of failing at life.

“When I talked to Seth last night,” she said, “he indicated that Aidan is really regretting asking you for a break.”

“He did not ask,” I said.

“Well. And I’m sure your feelings about this are still very raw. But Seth seemed to think the whole problem started because you made an error with the yearbook elections.”

“Mr. O’Neill thinks so because that’s what Aidan told him,” I pointed out.

She nodded. “Aidan also told him you and Sawyer had been connected in some way in one of the polls. You and Sawyer have been spending more time together because of this cheerleading business, and now in student council. Aidan grew jealous and let his feelings get the better of him. He’s going to ask you to take him back.”

“I’m going to say no.”

“And if you do,” my mother said, “Seth and I won’t interfere.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said.

She glowered at me again. This time I didn’t say I was sorry.

Finally she went on. “But I want you to think about the three years you and Aidan dated. You told me time and time again you were going to marry him. Of course, that’s a silly thing for a fourteen-year-old to say, but you were together so long that I began to think you’d found true love after all. You planned to go to Columbia together. Don’t throw this away over one silly fight about a boy you’re not going to date anyway.”

We exchanged a long, unblinking look. She was making sure I’d gotten her message. I was thinking I wanted to try out Sawyer more than ever.

“When I was in high school,” she said, “there was a boy I liked. He was so fine.”

“Fine?” I asked skeptically.

“It was the eighties,” she said. “Anyway, he was bad news. I knew he would take me down the wrong path, so I made a conscious decision to stay away from him.”

My heart stopped. “And now you regret it,” I said softly.

She side-eyed me. “No, he’s in prison. If I’d done what he wanted, I would have ended up a single mother without a college degree, much less an MBA, working for minimum wage and struggling to make ends meet.”

Oh, good Lord.

“What happened to letting me make my own mistakes?” I asked.

She shrugged. “You’re right. I told you, it’s hard for me to let go. I do want you to enjoy high school. But this year will fly by, and then your life will really start.”

And with that she reached into the container for her own cookie.

* * *

I spent the rest of the night working on my pitch to Principal Chen for saving the dance. The student council had already put down deposits on the DJ and the caterer. If we canceled the dance altogether, we’d lose those student dues dollars with nothing to show for it. The best solution, both for fiscal responsibility and school morale, was simply to move the venue to the property of a local business owner and Pelican alumnus.

This speech made perfect sense. If Aidan somehow convinced Ms. Yates that I should be fired as student council vice president, Ms. Chen would never allow it, because I was obviously such a great school leader.

But as I rehearsed my speech in my head, I began to have misgivings about telling Ms. Chen we were moving the dance to a gay bar. If she didn’t like this idea, she might not give me another chance.

And even if she did approve the move, the likelihood was high that someone’s parents would complain. Our town was generally pretty accepting, but back in ninth grade, Angelica’s mom had told Ms. Yates she shouldn’t be teaching her impressionable child about evolution.

If we held homecoming at the gay burlesque club, there would be a stink.

The stink would lead to a petition.

Someone would post the petition online, where it would go viral.