Twisted

In order to convince Sean that I was not a rude, disgusting pig, I spent homeroom apologizing one hundred thousand times for standing him up at the game.
“It’s okay, really,” he said again. “Honest, I get it. You’ve seen my mother. I understand parents who freak out, trust me. Is that a new shirt?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, praying that I had taken off all the tags. “My mom bought it.”
“I like it, but you know what, Elise McCready?” He focused his eyes on me. The rest of the world was sucked away into a giant vortex, leaving only the two of us. “You are way too old to let your mommy buy you clothes.”
“I am? Oh, I mean… yeah, I am.”
“You should go shopping with me. I’ll take care of you.”
Oh dear god, will you ever. I was experiencing a noticeable lack of hormone control. I slouched a little in my seat and crossed my legs to hide the leaking evidence.
He didn’t notice. He turned around to ask Sylvia Roberts, sitting behind him, if she did the Chemistry homework. But he did not offer to take her shopping. Ha.