“I’m playing bleeding PlayStation with the girl,” I strangled out. “Shouldn’t that tell you how safe I’m being?” “That’s true.” Mam nodded and sniffled. I sighed. “Thank you.” “So, I don’t have to worry, do I?” she added. “Being safe?” She sniffled. “Using—oh, dear god, condoms—” “No, Ma, you don’t have to worry because I am not having sex,” I said, sticking to the story, and pulled her back to my chest. “So just relax.”
