98. Paris Wills, Age 17, December 21, 2019

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Today is a new day.

Gray's stunning prismatic light show blew me away. It was better than any Winter Formal proposal I could ever imagine. I can't wait to attend my first high school dance with him. Before I met Gray, high school dances just seemed like another silly teenage ritual that I didn't understand. Now, I can't stop picturing me and the love of my life slow dancing under the disco ball and I wish time would fasten.

Yesterday, Nessie and I swung by the mall to pick up my tuxedo. It fits perfectly, and I'm eager to see what outfit Gray's picked out for tonight. No matter how many times I pester him, he refuses to tell me as he wants it to be a surprise. By now I've conceded to his wishes, though my curiosity refuses to dissipate.

When I get downstairs, my dad is already at work and Nessie is in the kitchen baking cinnamon rolls. The sweet aroma makes my stomach grumble and I parade into the kitchen cheerfully.

"Morning early riser," she quips sarcastically. I roll my eyes at her and sit down at the kitchen table. She brings a plate of cinnamon rolls over and I eagerly take it.

"So, are you excited for the dance tonight?"

I nod, clouded by sleepiness. I try to stifle a yawn, but it comes out loud and over exaggerated. Nessie laughs and unravels a cinnamon roll, eating it like a long coil.

"Be careful tonight, okay?"

I give her another nod, too tired to comprehend what she means.

"Do you need condoms? We can swing by the store and buy you some."

Suddenly I'm wide awake, and my whole face lights up like the Christmas tree sitting in our living room. Nessie, Dad, and I put it up last weekend. It's the first time we've had a Christmas tree in years.

"I...I think I'm good."

"Paris, don't be embarrassed. I'd rather you be safe."

"I know, Nessie, but, really, I'm fine."

I hope this is the end of that conversation, but she keeps pestering me. It reminds me of my mom, but not in a fun way.

"Have you two had sex already?"

I set down my half-eaten cinnamon roll and leave it there, too nauseous to eat another bite. Why is she asking me all these questions? I don't know what to say. Should I be honest with her, or lie and move on like it's no big deal.

"Well, I think I just got an answer."

She smirks before carrying her empty plate to the kitchen and dumping it in the dishwater.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You hesitated. Remember, Paris, I'm a teacher. I work with teenagers almost every day. I know when one doesn't wanna tell me something."

"Maybe I'm different," I protest with an exaggerated frown, crossing my hands over my chest.

"Fine. I'll ask you again. Have you two had sex already?"

I take in a deep breath and let out a huge, annoyed sigh.

"Yes," I muster, mumbling at a hauntingly quiet whisper.

"I was right," she replies, followed by a swift giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just," she lets out a soft, delicate laugh, "you're face is so red."

I can feel the heat in my face and my skin is hot to the touch. Is she really amused by all this? I'm certainly not!

"I just want to make sure you're being careful," Nessie adds, her snicker falling away.

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