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done with the kitchen, I go up to my room and put my headphones in. I try to relax, try to push everything out of out of my mind. I fall asleep pretty early, and my alarm wakes me up at 6:30. When we go pick up Amia, she's waiting on her front porch. "Ready?" I ask, and she stands up and follows me to the car. 
    "Hi," she says as she ducks into the car. "I'm Amia."
    My mom turns around and looks at her, a fake smile on her face. "Hi, Amia! It's so great to meet you. We're excited to have with us today."
    My dad smiles into the mirror. "Hi, Amia. Nice to meet you." I'm not sure if she was able to see what he was saying, so I repeat his words to her. 
    My mom is turned around in her seat so that she can talk to Amia. Her ability to fake her feelings amazes me. "Are you planning on attending mass every week with us?"
    "Yes, I'd like to. It's all so beautiful. The songs, the stained glass, and I loved the sermon. What did Mikey call it? The homily? It was just all so beautiful to me." My mom smiles, as if she brought a lost sheep back home to its shepherd. Then she turns around, and the rest of the drive is silent. As we take our seats inside the church, Amia takes out the missal and finds the prayers. 
    Joe, Mary, Aunt Ruth, and Uncle Henry slide into the pew behind us. Amia turns and waves at Joe, then goes back to the missal. Joe looks at me and smiles. 
    "You two are sitting pretty close, don’tcha think?" I look at Amia, notice her leg touching mine. I just shrug, and he laughs. "I knew it. It's just a matter of time now, you'll be down on your knee, slipping a giant diamond onto her ring finger."
    I shake my head. "We haven't even gone on a date," I say. "You're getting a little ahead of yourself."
    The smile on his face disappears as his mom glares at him. "Sorry," he whispers. I turn around to face the altar right as the priest walks down the center aisle. 
    After the service is over, we proceed towards the exit. My parents stop to talk to everyone, so Amia and I walk over to the side while we wait. Joe follows us.
    Once we find a nice sunny spot to stand in, Amia takes a step closer to my side and slips her hand into mine. Joe doesn't miss any of this, and he raises his eyebrows at me. 
    "I thought you said you weren't going out," he says.
    "We're not," says Amia. "Yet. He was supposed to take me on a date tonight, to see how things go. But then he got grounded, so we'll have to wait until after New Year's."
    Joe smiles, and then frowns at me. "Why can't I get that kind of honesty from you?"
    I just shrug. "I just don't get why you care so much if we're dating."
    He steps back, quiet for a minute. Then he nods, as if confirming something. "Yep. That's it. You guys just look so good together, that's all," he says. "And obviously, you get along well. It would be cruel to yourselves if you didn't date."
    Amia laughs. "Cruel? Don't you think that's a tad bit dramatic?"
    He shakes his head. "Me? Dramatic? Never." He drags it out, making a big show with hand and arm gestures. He smiles, and then says, "Why would you ever think that I'm dramatic?" Mary comes over to us and taps him on the shoulder. 
    "Joe, we're ready to go. Mom and Dad are leaving. Unless you want to walk, you better get your butt over to the car." 
    He looks back at us. "Guess I better go," he says. "I'll see you guys later."
    Once he leaves, I look at Amia. "Does it bug you that everyone wants us to go out?"
    She shrugs. "I guess. It doesn't bother me so much that they think that, but the fact that they talk about it so much kind of bugs me. You know?"
    I nod. "That makes sense. I just don't understand why they care." My mom and dad come over then, and we all walk back to the car. Amia, to my surprise, doesn't drop my hand as we meet up with my parents. We hold hands all the way to her house, and she gives me a long hug on her front porch. When I get back into the car, my mom turns around in her seat. 
    "I didn't realize that you two were so close."
    "Are you talking about holding hands? The hug?" She doesn't move. Doesn't nod, doesn't say anything. She just stares at me. "She's not my girlfriend. We're gonna see where it goes. Go on a couple dates, see how we are as a couple. If it doesn't work out, we'll just be friends again. It's nothing serious."
    She doesn't say anything for a few seconds. Then, "Well...." and silence once again. She turns back around to face the windshield. When I ask her what she means by that, she just ignores me. 
    "Okay," I mumble to myself.
    When we get home, I start on the list of chores that I've been given. I clean the guest bedroom, clean the cars, I sweep and mop and dust and scour for a few hours, and then I go try to do my homework. The whole time, I think about Amia. 
    I always thought that there was something special about her, felt like we shouldn't just be friends. But I didn't think she felt the same. She never acted like it. 
    As I set the table for dinner, I push it out of my mind. No use thinking about it now, right? Amia

 

The next few weeks go by excruciatingly slow. I only talk to Mikey at school and on the radio, and at church. But when we get out of school for two weeks, I go crazy. I’m not even allowed to text him. I still call the radio each day, but with nothing to do for the rest of the time, I drive my mom insane too. 
    "Amia, just go somewhere. Call one of your other friends. I'm tired of you hanging around the house all day." I just look at her for a few seconds, amazed. "Oh," she says after a minute. "Oops. Don't you have any of their emails?"
    I shake my head. "Mom, I don't talk to people too much, other than Mikey."
    "Why? Mikey can't be the only nice person at your school. You need to be more social." 
    I just shake my head. "It's not a matter of not being social. I'm overwhelmed. I don't have time to talk to other people. I spend advisory and lunch getting help from the teachers, and all of class time I have to pay close attention. It sucks. It's hard."
    Her face softens. "Why haven't you said anything to me?"
    I just shake my head. "You have other stuff to worry about. I can handle this. It's hard, but I'm okay. I have Bs and Cs. I'll survive." I get up and walk to my room, and she doesn't follow. 


    On Christmas day, my dad comes over. It all seems so backwards to me, but no one else seems to share my feelings. We all open our presents and have a big dinner and try to act like a family. From the outside, it might look like it. But it doesn't feel like a family at all. 
    In fact, because I was forced to put up with it all, I spend the next few days pouting. I know it's not the most mature way to handle things, but I just can't deal with it all. 
    And finally, it's New Year's Eve. I'm walking around my kitchen, looking for something to make for lunch, and Lisa walks past me to the front door. 
    In a couple seconds, she comes back to the table, Mikey walking behind her. "Hi," he says. 

   “Mikey!” I cross the distance between us and wrap my arms around him, hugging him close. His arms come across my back, instantly relaxing me. "What are you doing here? You're not grounded anymore?"
    He smiles. "I got them to let me off a day early." He leans against the counter and watches as I pull out the grape jelly from the fridge.
    "Want a sandwich?" I ask him. “I was just going to make one for myself.” He shakes his head. 
    "I have to leave soon. I just came by to tell you not to make any plans for tonight. You're coming with me."
    I stop fumbling around the kitchen and focus just on him. "Where are we going? My mom's still kind of mad about the last party. I don't get what the deal is. She was never like this with Lisa." I wave my hand over to her, sitting at the table, still in her jammies. 
    She stands up to put her plate in the sink. "It's because you can't hear. She feels like you've already gone through enough in your lifetime, and she's more protective of you because of that. Plus," she adds, grinning, "Mom didn't know about most of the parties I went to." I can’t help but smile at that. Even though Lisa was the only one who still wanted to go to church all those years, she wasn’t an innocent little angel.
    "Well," says Mikey, "this is just at my aunt and uncle's house. Lots of adults will be there to chaperone. I promise." He's still leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. He seems relaxed, and has a small smile on his face. I can't help but think that he really is a handsome boy.
    "I'll ask my mom," I say. "And I'll let you know... somehow. Will you be on the radio at all today?" He told me that he usually isn't in on holidays, but I'm not sure if they consider this a holiday.
    He nods. "Yeah, my usual time. So just call on there. And I'll come pick you up around seven, and then we'll head over there."
    I nod. "Okay." He pushes off the counter and leaves, and I go sit at the table next to Lisa. "How do you know that that's why mom is so over-protective of me, with everything, when she never was with you?"
    "First of all, I know Mom. I know how she thinks. And I was just talking to her about it the other day. And that's what she told me."


    That night Mikey picks me up around seven. I say good-bye to Mom and Lisa, who are going somewhere with

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