Decidedly, the worst thing to happen to me is Dres.

     Specifically, him kissing me. Because how do you recover from something like that? (You don't, that's how) Seriously, I'm ruined forever. So here I am, sitting in my car, trying to figure out how to drive when my legs feel like rubber.

     I pull down the visor, look into the mirror at my reflection, staring hard. I try to imagine what I look like from Dres's eyes, but all I can focus on is the pimple buried in the hitch of my nostril. My fingers run along my bottom lip, that is still sensitive and tingling.

     My phone vibrates in the cup holder. I close the visor before grabbing it. I get one good glance at the screen and my stomach drops instantly.

     Curiosity beats out my nerves. I unlock it with my thumb before I open the text from Dres. I don't know what I'm expecting, probably something like "sorry for the momentary lapse in judgment, that won't happen again, and also you're fired" but Dres never really does what I expect.

     [DRES] 9:22 PM: go home

     I glance out the window, which has fogged up, and glimpse Dres's figure in the store's front. I roll my eyes before sinking low in the driver's seat and text him back.

[CAS] 9:24 PM: I'm warming up my car

     [DRES] 9:24 PM: it's been warming for fifteen minutes

[CAS] 9:25 PM: it's an old car

[CAS] 9:25 PM: these things take time

[CAS] 9:25 PM: you can't rush the process

     [DRES] 9:26 PM: You're loitering, you are loitering outside my place of work

[CAS] 9:26 PM: hey! it's my place of work too

     [DRES] 9:27 PM: Not right now it isn't, you're clocked out

     I sit up and look back towards the front of the store. I can make out the shadow of Dres by the counters and Dolores near the doorway. I hesitate in my response, consider the ramifications of sending it, before I say fuck it and send it anyway.

[CAS] 9:29 PM: I could clock back in

[CAS] 9:29 PM: we could maybe pick up where we left off

     I regret it immediately, and stare at my phone waiting for the backlash. Dres will surely put me in my place. Only it never comes and I start to realize that I've screwed up big time.

[CAS] 9:32 PM: or not.

[CAS] 9:32 PM: def not.

[CAS] 9:33 PM: ignore that.

     I stare at my phone waiting for Dres's response, whatever it will be. "Ah shit," I hiss as I lock my phone and then unlock it, close my messages and then reopen them.

     I'm gearing up to send a 'ha ha I was only kidding' message when Dres taps softly on my window, popping up out of the darkness. I hesitate before rolling the window down. I start to speak, apologize or something, but my words become a squeaking noise and anyway, I don't get that far.

     I don't get that far because Dres leans into my window, so close to me that I half think he's going to kiss me again, and says, "Sunday."

     "Sunday?" I repeat.

     He goes, "You don't have practice on Sundays, right?" I shake my head slowly. He says, "I like to go hiking."

     "Uh huh."

     "Do you want to go hiking with me on Sunday?"

     "Okay."

     "Just to be clear, I'm asking you on a date."

     "No, yeah, I got that."

     "And yesterday was a date."

     "I'm realizing that, too."

     "Then we're on the same page?" I nod my head. "Good. Then go home. And try not to lose your mind over everything that's just happened."

     "Yeah, I can't make any promises on that last one."

     Dres laughs softly, almost not even a sound. "Yeah, I know. But try anyway."

     I clear my throat, and say, "Okay," trying to sound as noncommittal as I don't feel.

     Dres looks like he's grinning without the whole mouth lifting part of it, anyway. "I'll see you tomorrow." He waits for me to roll the window up and drive away, probably because he knows I'd sit in my parking space all night otherwise.

     I still don't have full motor control over my extremities but I manage to get home safely. I'm nearly positive that Dres will be the death of me. Once I'm inside, I realize just how hungry I am and cut a path to the kitchen where my mom is standing near the stove, stirring a pot.

     "Is that pasta? Tell me that's pasta," I say as I sit down at our breakfast nook.

     "It is indeed pasta," my mom responds with a laugh as I lay my head on the table. I'm so tired and I still have so much studying to do. "How was school?"

     "Boring," I say sounding more like a groan than a word. "My physics teacher – you know Mr. Worth, right? – he said we'll probably go to six flags for our final project, so that was pretty cool. And I've got this huge anatomy exam tomorrow. And we're starting the House on Mango Street in AP Lit."

     "That doesn't sound at all boring," she responds as she strains the pasta.

     "Well, in comparison to the rest of my day it was."

     She turns and looks at me head on. "What does that mean?"

     "Not like that," I say quickly slightly annoyed that my mom immediately jumps to me being bullied. "It's just – remember when you asked me if Dres and I were going to make a habit of going to the movies?" She nods. "We aren't making a habit of going to the movies – at least I don't think so? But we are going out again this Sunday, hiking, that is if that's okay?"

     She turns back to the food but I catch the glimpse of a smile on her face. "Oh," she says trying very hard to sound normal. I roll my eyes. "So are you and Dres..."

     I pull myself from my seat to grab the cheese in the fridge. "I don't know. We're doing the dating thing, I think. Sunday's definitely a date. Do you want water?"

     "Sprite," she answers as she takes two plates to the table. I grab a can of coke and a can of sprite before joining her. I waste no time mowing into my food but stop when I notice my mom staring at me.

     "You can go Sunday," she says. "But just," she exhales in a pant, "Dres is older than you. And I'm not assuming anything. But you need to be more protective of yourself. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

     "Use protection?" I ask slightly joking but also slightly not.

     "Is sex all you think about?" she says with a discontented shake of her head. "Don't answer that."

     "And food," I say despite her warning.

     "What?"

     "You said is sex all I think about? I think about food, too. A 55 to 45 ratio." This makes my mom laugh, and I grin down at my food as I continue to eat. "So if you didn't mean sex what exactly are you talking about with Dres?"

     "Did you ever wonder why he named his place Private Weston? Did you ever ask him about the name?"

     I shake my head, almost positive I'm not going to like what she's getting at. "It's not my place, really."

     "It's something to consider, Cas." My mom sighs, setting down her fork to really look at me. "There's a story there. And it's one you may not want to hear."

     I shrug my shoulders. "Everyone has a past, mom. Who's to say he'll want to hear mine."

     Her expression changes, soft and sad at the same time. "You are not to blame for any of that, Calvin. And Dres will see that."

     I continue eating, letting a silence ensue so I can finish my meal, because this is always an argument between my mom and I. When I finish my plate, I get up and ask, "Are you finished?" She nods so I take hers too, walking over to the sink to rinse them before I put them in the dishwasher.

     "You know I love you, right," she says standing behind me, now.

     I laugh, turning around to grin at her. "If you really loved me you'd let me have a dog."

     She's smiling too as she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "There is no way that we are getting a dog. The floors were just done."

     "I would keep its nails short, mom."

      "And you would walk it every day? And buy its food?"

     "Yes," I insist. "I would be completely responsible."

     She shakes her head. "You are at swim and school all day, and when you're not there, you're working. There would be no one here to take care of it."

     "Grace and Halston would totally step in. We'd co-own the dog."

     "If you're co-owning a dog, then it can live at one of their houses." I make a face. "That's right, because Cheryl and Margaret don't want a dog in their houses either."

     "Well, Grace's dad is allergic and Halston's mom is just super strict about everything."

     "No dog, end of discussion," my mom says with a final shake of her head. "Don't you have homework to do?" I don't respond. "Get started, it's getting late."

     "Yes mom," I say begrudgingly as I head for the front foyer. I grab my book bag off the floor by the door and then head upstairs to my room. While I do have some math equations I have to work and an exam I need to study for, there's a more pressing matter at hand.

     I shut my bedroom door before climbing into bed and calling Halston. When she answers, I say, "I'm getting Grace." I put Grace through and wait for her to answer.

     Grace says when she picks up, "Do we think I can get away with a cropped sweater if I wear high waisted jeans for our next tag day?"

     Halston hums thoughtfully and then decides, "Probably not."

     "Damn," Grace says, sighing with maybe a growl near the end like this is the end of the world. "Anywayyyyy, what's up?"

     I bite back a smile, and try to say in a mostly blasé tone, "Nothing much, really, I just, you know, hooked up with Dres tonight." Grace's pitchy squeal has me moving the phone from my ear in a second, but now I'm smiling because yeah, that's exactly how I feel on the matter.

     She cries, "No. Way."

     Halston is laughing, probably at Grace, and says, "Congrats?"

     "Dres looks like a good kisser. He's a good kisser, isn't he?"

     Halston makes a disgusted noise and goes, "Don't answer that!"

     Despite Halston's words, I answer, "Yeah, he's a good kisser." Then I add, "Well, he's a tease, that's what he really is."

     "Wait, give us the whole story," Grace goes so I tell them everything, sparing no details.