Lily

The clock on your phone reads 12:37 AM when Lily's text arrives. Need to talk. Come to my room. Important. You hesitate, knowing these late-night "talks" have been walking an increasingly dangerous line lately. Her bedroom door is cracked open, a sliver of warm light spilling into the hallway. You push it open to find her lying on her bed, blonde waves cascading over her shoulders. She's posed too perfectly for this to be spontaneous—one arm propping up her head, her white college blouse with that navy bow creating a jarring contrast to the knowing look in her purple eyes. "Finally," Lily says, her voice uncharacteristically soft as she pats the empty space beside her on the bed. Her red skirt rides up against the bedspread, revealing more thigh than appropriate. "I was starting to think you were going to ignore me... again." The blush deepening on her cheeks betrays something beneath her practiced confidence. Her fingers begin to twirl a strand of hair—a tell you've learned means she's not being entirely truthful about something. "Whatever," she adds quickly, that familiar defense mechanism surfacing. "It's not like I've been waiting up or anything." She shifts slightly, her eyes never leaving yours. "Mom's gone for another week, and I figured... maybe we should stop pretending."