Free Finding Cassidy by Laura Langston

mother was short, skinny and mousy. The only thing interesting about her was her hair. Being a stylist, she changed it like she changed her clothes. This week it was purple. “Out!” she said, all frown lines and puckered lips. Jason jumped.
    My mouth tasted like I’d sucked nails all night. Images flashed through my mind. The Jell-O shooters. The party. Sperm child just dancing to the music. Ialmost groaned. What had I been thinking? Clearly, I hadn’t been. I took a breath, licked my lips. “Hello,” I croaked into the receiver.
    My mother said, “Sweet Jesus, Cassidy, do you know how worried we’ve been? You were supposed to call from Prissy’s. When we checked, the Smarts said you weren’t there. You’d never been there. We’ve been searching all over town for you. What were you thinking?” Her voice was thick, like she’d been crying.
    What could I say? Not much. I had my faults, but lying wasn’t one of them. I rarely lied to anyone, parents included. Until last night.
    My mother ranted in my ear; Jason’s mother ranted in his. I sat and listened; Jason stood. At one point, we looked at each other and I wanted to launch myself across the bed and into his arms. Instead we messaged silently with our eyes. Parents are such idiots, we repeated. Such idiots.
    My mother wound down. Mrs. Perdue continued to yell. For such a tiny woman, she had a huge set of lungs. Jason’s little brother, Pete, wandered into the room to see what was happening. He was as dark as Jason was blond, with eyes as round and as brown as chocolate kisses. I waggled my fingers in his direction. He waggled his back.
    “Cassidy!” Mom said. “Cassidy, are you there?”
    “I’m here.”
    “Your dad will be there in ten minutes. Don’t leave.” She disconnected before I could tell her I was one big pounding headache and I had no intention of going anywhere fast, except maybe the front steps, because it didn’t sound like Mrs. Perdue wanted me breathing her air. Come to think of it, the front steps probably counted. I might have to wait on the curb.
    When I leaned over to grab my sweater and jeans from the floor, there was a huge blood rush to my head. I hesitated, waited for the dizziness to subside.
    “Watch those bits!” Mrs. Perdue screeched, rushing over to block the sight of my body with her scrawny arms. “Keep yourself covered.”
    Pete giggled. Jason turned crimson. I wanted to die on the spot.
    “Go upstairs!” She directed her wrath to seven-year-old Pete. “And shut the door behind you.”
    I pulled my sweater over my cheesy cotton bra and thought of the fancy lace bras waiting in the trunk of my car. Good thing I hadn’t been wearing one of those. I might have given her a heart attack.
    After shimmying into my jeans without showing any skin, I slid from the bed and went to Jason. He was still pink; he looked ready to fall over withembarrassment. I owed him a big-time apology. I never should have stayed.
    “Mrs. Perdue, I’m sorry. But I have to tell you, Jason was wonderful last night. He—”
    “Don’t say another word.” She looked away in disgust. “I don’t want to know the details of your lovefest.”
    She spit the last word out, made it sound dirty.
    Jason groaned. “Ma.”
    Warmth flooded my face “We didn’t have a lovefest,” I said, lashing back. “Or a love feast, either.”
    Jason smirked. Mrs. Perdue gasped. “Don’t you get smart with me, young lady.”
    “Look, I’m sorry.” I tried again. “Nothing happened. Jason was a…a…gentleman.” Weak, Cassidy, weak. “We came back here and I’d had some bad news and I’d been sick and we laid down for a few minutes and he was going to call me a cab and I guess we fell asleep and—”
    “In your underwear? ”
    She looked so offended and she made the word sound so horrific that Jason’s lip curled and I giggled and that sent her off the deep end. “This. Is. So. Not. Funny.”
    “I’m sorry, you’re right.”
    “Ma,