Page 11 of Lovebug
“Hell no. I don’t study!” she says, offended.
“Oh,” I say, feeling disappointed.
“Yeah, no. My mom is deep in the throes of divorcing my stepdad right now, and she told me the other day that she knew she needed to pull the plug on the marriage when she played ‘dead dragonfly’ one too many times during sex. So I started looking into it and—”
“Wow! Okay,” I interrupt, fully cognizant of the inappropriateness of this discussion, yet completely curious to hear more. “You, um… You and your mom—you’re pretty close, huh?”
“The closest, yeah! We’re more like sisters than mother/daughter,” April says proudly.
And here I thought my mom and I were close. But talking about our sex lives? No way. In fact… has my momevertalked to me about sex? Did she ever even give me “The Talk?” No, I don’t think she ever did. I just remember the vague yet constant lesson of “don’t ever do it.”
I know April’s mom, though, and if I’m honest with myself, the things she’s saying aren’t actually all that surprising.
Just then, my phone rings. Loudly.
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, team.” I fumble in my fanny pack to find it.
Right before I silence it, I see that it was my friend Calliope trying to video call me from Mexico where she’s on a dinosaur dig. I hate to miss her, but…
“Hey, I thought we’re not supposed to have phones ‘on our person’ during camp hours,” April accuses, sounding thrilled to catch me mid-work crime.
“That’s absolutely right!” I chirp. “You’re not. I mean,we’renot. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”
She cocks her head to one side and puffs her lips out in confusion. “Aren’t you my boss?”
“Yes?” I try a statement, but it comes out as a question.
“And aren’t you like forty?” she asks with full seriousness.
“Twenty-four, actually,” I deadpan.
“Same difference,” April exhales. “Well, I’m sixteen. So why areyouapologizing tome?”
“Because… I did something wrong. Saying ‘I’m sorry’ is the appropriate response.”
Isn’t it?
“Hm.” April ponders this. “I would advise against that approach, or we’ll lose respect for your authority.”
“Really? I thought you’d appreciate the fact that I’m relating to you as colleagues and equals.”
“Nope,” April answers, then turns to Dante for his take on the matter. “Dante?”
“Yeah, naw,” he drawls. “We need to know you’re in charge and have some semblance of power over us, or else we’ll walk all over you just like we do our parents.”
“Interesting,” I say, nodding my head, my jaw dropped open far more than necessary. “Thank you for telling me that.”
They give me a look as though I’ve completely missed their point. I adjust quickly.
“I mean, you… You shut your mouths, imbeciles!”
Oops.
“Too far? Did I take it too far?” I ask.
“Too far, yeah,” April says. “No one suggested you should be a raging B.”
“Yeah,” Emily chimes in. “Don’t be a raging B.”
