“I’m not trying to stop you,” Mom says, stepping out of my way. I thud down the stairs, shoulders tensing when she calls after me, “All I was going to say is—” Why do you always need to have the last word? I think as I tug open the front door, waving toward Luis’s headlights. You and Jake both. “—if it’s something, then she’s a lucky girl,” Mom finishes, and I’m so caught off guard that I nearly catch my fingers in the door when I close it.
