Cameo Read Online Free Page A

later, my mother strolled in like the happy camper she usually was. My mother was one of those moms that your boyfriend hoped you’d look like twenty years later, if youwere still together. She was elegant, fashionable, and sophisticated. She was like a young Diahann Carroll.
    â€œSo I see someone has a new boyfriend,” she said.
    Did I mention she was a lawyer and that, at times, she tactlessly got right down to the nitty-gritty? “What were you doing home alone?” Note to self: Next time Jason comes over for homework, make sure to dress like it’s a homework date, i.e., sweats and a ponytail. Did I just say date? Great! As long as I didn’t say it out loud.
    I signed in at Tracebook online. I had a friend from my internship last summer—well, it was more like a volunteer-type, candy-striping gig, but around college application time, we seniors have to get a little creative with our extracurricular activities. She was more like me than anyone at school. I had to check to see if she was online. She would get this whole Jason thing. I took a momentary pause to acknowledge the fact that merely getting on Tracebook to talk was admitting that there was a “thing” going on with Jason. It was like a bad chemical reaction, however those were usually followed by some sort of rash or patchy skin thing—yuck. If I could associate kissing him with that rash, then all would be well.
    My mom snuck up behind me. “Nee, you wouldn’t believe it. The screen on my laptop went out today. Kelly, my new assistant, was setting up for a client meeting, when, boom, it was out. Luckily, we had borrowed the newbie’s laptop for the presentation. His was brand-new. So where’s your BFF? That is what you’re calling your best friends these days, true … or false?” she said.
    â€œOnly if we’re on a first-name basis, Susan.”
    â€œOh, honey, don’t call me that. There is only one person in the world that gets to call me Mom. It’s special.”
    That’s also what she told me about my virginity. The “It’s special” line was multi-purpose. I now see.
    My mom searched through her mail like there was a letter bomb in there. She carefully examined each piece by throwing it around with a pen before she even picked it up. That’s what too many forensic crime shows amount to these days: being petrified of your own mail. We all have our compulsions. I wash my hands with that antibacterial stuff in a tube after I touch money, doorknobs, and anything on the public transit system.
    Gary66? Who the heck was that?
    â€œhey, remember me from last year? we sat in the back of English together. i searched your name, and this profile popped up so i thought it must be Amber,” Gary66 said on instant message.
    First off, I don’t even know anyone who sends instant messages with all lowercase except for the words English and Amber.
    â€œHe’s cute. What’s his name?” my mom asked.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThe guy who just left the house.” She knew I knew who she meant.
    â€œJason.” I wasn’t looking at her, but from the lack of response, I would say her mouth had just dropped.
    â€œHmmm. I guess you finally got some answers out of him,” she said.
    â€œHow petty. Though he did explain himself. And, yeah, some girls think he’s cute. But he’s …” It was hard to sum him up in just one word. My voice trailed off as I turned my attention to Gary66’s next message.
    â€œwhat the deal? u there. says you’re online.”
    â€œHello, Gary66. No, I am not Amber and no I do not know an Amber. Do not instant message me,” I replied.
    Man, this was turning out to be some kind of day. Some days I could actually be sweet, or so I’ve been told.
    â€œsorry, who ruined your day? sounds like a guy did it. i know cause that’s usually how the story goes. boy breaks girl’s heart and,