We woke up to a knock on the door.
I sat up, taking in Phil’s naked form curled up under the sheets and felt a jolt of panic at the sound of my mother’s voice. “Theo, are you in there?” She sounded distraught but I . . . I couldn’t just let her in obviously.
“Just a sec,” I said, hopping up, collecting our clothes from the floor. Why are we so messy? I tossed his clothes at him, pulling on my pants and shirt. Phil didn’t even move an inch, sound asleep even with his sweatpants resting on his head now. Rolling my eyes, I ducked out of his bedroom, to find my mother pacing in the hallway, coming to a startled stop as she looked me over.
I have a young mother. She had Violet when she was just nineteen, had me at twenty-one—but the past few days were hard on her. Mom did
