I arrange my textbooks in a neat pile on the desk. It’s almost dark; Mom will be home in no time.

As I pick up the pens I used to take notes and shove them into my worn pencil bag, I try to remember if I did all the chores Mom asked me to do. She'll be tired and grumpy; I’d rather not fuel her foul mood.

I take my to-do list from the drawer, and tension leaves my body. Grocery shopping is the only uncrossed item.

My hands are tied; I’m waiting for my mom to bring some money.

I hope she gets paid on time. All we have is some bread and peanut butter. I’m fed up with eating the same stuff for days, but it could be worse. It could be nothing.

Sometimes, it is.

Sighing, I leave the list on the desk and walk up to the window. The sky looks gray and ominous. It’s January; cold and gloomy days are the norm.

Even though it’s chilly outside, I’d rather go out than spend another evening getting depressed in my room.

That won’t be the case tonight, though. Gavin promised to stop by and spend time with me later.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach at the idea of seeing my boyfriend. I could use a distraction from everything.

A loud rumble of an engine derails my train of thought. Our neighbor, Mr. O’Brien, has a bike, but it never sounds this angry.

I freeze and peer out of the window.

A tall guy hops off the bike and unclips his helmet. His fingers comb through his dark strands as he smiles and moves out of my sight.

Part of me wants to keep looking and find out what will happen next, but the clink of the keys makes me snap out of it and dash downstairs.

Mom lowers herself onto a chair at the dining table and groans, cradling her head in her hands.

“Hey,” I greet her. “How was work? Are you tired?”

Mom sniffles. “No job anymore, Leah. They told me they didn’t need my services and fired me today.”

My stomach churns. Few businesses are hiring in town. Getting another job won't be easy.

My dad isn’t in the picture. Mom has always supported us financially, but all the jobs she got were tough and poorly paid.

We barely got by before. Now that Mom has lost our only source of income, I’ll need to brace myself for her crappy mood that can last for days.

I don’t blame her; I know how difficult everything is. If only she wouldn’t be so bitter all the time.

“What are we gonna do?” I ask.

Mom rubs her temples and looks at me. “No idea. I’ll start looking for something tomorrow. Did anything happen while I was out?”

I shake my head but then think better and say, “Kinda. A guy parked his bike next to Mr. O’Brien’s house. I wonder who he is."

My mom’s expression turns stern, and she purses her lips. “Must be one of the outlaws.”

“Those are just rumors,” I say. “I’ve never seen—"

“Stay away from that man. Got it?” Mom raises her voice, and I shrink under her harsh stare.

“Okay. Oh, and Gavin will be here soon. I hope you don’t mind.”

Mom perks up. “Of course, I don’t, but you’ll leave your door open. I don’t want the boy to think my daughter isn’t a decent girl. This town’s full of sluts. I won’t allow you to become one.”

I nod like a robot and turn around to go back to my bedroom. How would I know what this town’s full of? I hardly ever go out, and when I do, we stay at Gavin’s with his parents.

Gavin should've got here by now. I sigh and look out of my bedroom window.

A movement in one of Mr. O’Brien’s windows catches my eye. I squint, but the curtains block whoever it is from view.

“What are you looking at?”

“Gavin!” I squeal and rush to hug my boyfriend. Gavin’s shirt's ironed, and his hair's gelled. I smile before pressing my lips to his.

“Leah.” He grips my forearm, stopping my advances. “Your mom could hear us. I’m uncomfortable.”

It takes all of me not to roll my eyes. “She’s downstairs.”

“We’d be disrespecting her, regardless. Besides, I brought the textbooks. We have to study for the quiz.”

This time, I don’t bother to hide my annoyance. “The quiz is on Wednesday. It’s Friday; we have time.”

Gavin narrows his eyes at me as if I were a child who misbehaves. “It’s our senior year. Our future’s important. When school’s over, we’ll do whatever you want. Now, I need to study.”

I shrug. “Go ahead. The desk’s yours.”

Gavin pulls out a chair and flops down on it. The rustling of pages fills the room. He takes notes, and I sit on my bed, playing with the hem of my shirt.

My gaze wanders to the window again. Is this what other people my age do on Friday evenings?

“You’d better start studying now," Gavin says. He doesn't spare me a glance; the books in front of him have his undivided attention.

“Okay,” I whisper and rise to my feet.

Gavin takes the Math textbook from the pile on my desk and hands it to me.

Just as I grip it, the engine of a bike roars, breaking the quiet.

“One of those idiots again,” Gavin says.

This time, I do roll my eyes, but my boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice.