Free #4 Truth and Nothing But by Stephanie Perry Moore Page A

knew your sisters were talking about guys, but you assured us, ‘My head is focused. I’m not even thinking about guys. All I want to do is graduate top of my class.’ Yet here you are doing something way worse than anybody in this family ever has!”
    â€œSo you’re perfect?” I said in an angry tone.
    â€œI didn’t say I was perfect, but I’m your mother, and I never took naked pictures of myself and thought it was okay.”
    â€œWell, I didn’t either, Mom!”
    â€œSo now you’re in denial? That’s just great, Sloan. That’s just great! You had a dream of Harvard. You had a vision to be top of your class. Why couldn’t you just stay focused?” When we got to the red light, she looked over at me and said, “I know I’ve been working hard at the firm on this food poisoning case. Obviously, I need to pay more attention to my child. So if you want me to apologize, then I’ll do that.”
    Really pissed at this point, I said, “No, Mom. You need to pay more attention to your marriage.”
    Squinting her eyes she said, “What are you talking about, Sloan?”
    â€œI’m talking about you all mad at me about little pictures that you saying that I sent…”
    â€œYou sent? I’m not talking hearsay that you sent it. Dear, I’ve got the proof! You sent it, okay! What are you talking about, about my marriage?”
    The last thing I wanted to do was hurt my mom, but she was hurting me by not even giving me a chance to explain, by not even asking me what was really up, by not trusting me. I wasn’t lying. She knew that I wasn’t a liar, so I reached inside my purse and pulled out the picture that Mr. Brown had given me and showed it to my mom. She snatched it out of my hand, and as tears welded up in her eyes, she had nothing else to say from that point on. As bad as I felt about my own situation, I now felt way worse for breaking her heart. She being way too hard on me though. What else was a girl to do?

    I wanted to snatch the picture out of my mom’s hands and pretend I’d never shown it to her, but what was done was done. I could see she was not only confused but hurt as well. She didn’t grill me more about how I got it. She didn’t want to discuss it either. We simply rode the rest of the way home without a word spoken.
    She didn’t have to tell me I was grounded. She didn’t have to tell me to go to my room. She didn’t have to tell me I was on punishment. I knew my fate. Even though I wanted some alone time, a part of me wanted to hug her and reassure that it had to be more to the story than what we saw in the photo. However, even if she gave me the time of day, I couldn’t give her the answers that would give her comfort because I really believed, deep down, that my dad was engaging in some type of uncouth relationship with the mystery chick.
    Later that evening, I heard a whole bunch of arguing. The walls were trembling because of the yelling going on. I peeked my head out into the hallway and looked over the steel railing.
    â€œSo you mean to tell me you don’t know where she got this from?” my mother questioned my dad.
    â€œNo, I don’t know where she got it from, but I’m telling you it doesn’t mean anything,” my father replied.
    My mom retorted with attitude, “Funny, seeing you all locked up in somebody’s arms like you’re whispering sweet nothings in her ear doesn’t look like nothing to me.”
    â€œShh, hon, keep your voice down. The girls are upstairs.”
    â€œAnd with my daughters talking to boys, they need to know there are trifling men in the world. Sometimes you can’t trust none of them,” my mom said as she rolled her eyes at my dad.
    â€œAw, baby, don’t be like that,” he said as he tried to wrap his arms around her.
    Pulling away, she said, “Well, you’re not telling me