Dangerous Woman

"Mom, I think the food is burning" My daughter calls from her room, eyes probably glued to her phone. I roll my eyes as I stomp downstairs to the kitchens, blowing away puffs of smoke---the food was in fact burning. I was so engrossed in my book that I had forgotten I was even cooking something to begin with, but I assumed Lily would take care of it. I guess I should have asked. As I use a wooden spoon to inspect just how bad the damage is, I hear soft footsteps coming downstairs. Lily appears in front of me, eyes glued to her phone. "Why did you let the food burn so much?" She asks. I ignore her. "Who are you always texting?" I ask, placing the spoon on the counter. Her face flushes, as she turns off her phone and stuffs it into her back pocket. "Nobody" She mumbles. I know better than to continuously ask, she's not going to tell me unless she wants to. "Help me set the table" I say, turning back to the mess in the pot. "I think I'm going to skip dinner today" Lily mutters, hand clutching her stomach. "Oh come on, only a little got burnt. I'll give you the good bits" I offer. "No, that's not it. I'm just...not hungry" I don't point out that this is the third dinner in a row that she has skipped, I know that's only going to make her upset. "Fine. But if you change your mind..." "I won't. I'll just get some juice." She says, pulling the fridge door open. The juice in question is some "low calorie" junk she bought from the store, it's one of the only things she consumes nowadays. I can't help but notice how skinny she's gotten lately. I mean, when I was a teen, I used to be sort of chubby, until I just kind of lost all the weight in my 20s. Lily is a little bit chubby too, in all the right places I might add---well, used to be. It's okay if she wants to work on herself, and start eating healthy---something we rarely do in this house---but barely eating and eating healthy are not the same thing. Yet, I know if I say something, she's going to blow up on me. She grabs the juice from the fridge and saunters back to her room. As she's halfway up the stairs, her phone rings, but she doesn't answer until she's inside her room. The walls in our house are fairly thin, but I still can't hear her as she's talking in faint whispers. I wonder what's that about. Either way, I'm not the type of mother to be snooping in my daughter's business. So what if she has a few secrets? Everyone does.