“I think we need to look at the painkillers the doctors gave him.”
“He flushed them down the toilet at about five this morning. Said they are not worth the weird dreams they give him.”
“He had weird dreams, too, huh?” Sun turned to her mother. “I have ibuprofen and Tylenol.”
“I know, hon. We’ll be fine.”
Auri ran over for a hug. “Thanks, again, Grandma. And thanks for the pancakes.”
“You are very welcome. Have a good day.”
After sliding her backpack over her favorite peach sweater, she shrugged resentfully. “We aren’t even doing anything.”
“But these are the days you’ll remember most,” her mother told her. “The school parties and the movies and the joking around. It’s like a week of unwinding.”
“I guess. I’d rather stay with Cruz.”
“I know, bug.” Sun gestured her toward the door. “Couple more days and you’ll have over two months of fun.”
Sun opened the door to find Wanda Stephanopoulos readying to knock. “Sunshine,” she said, just as surprised as Sun.
“Wanda, how are you?”
“Oh, you know. Hi, Auri.”
“Hey, Wanda.”
“I’ll meet you at the car, bug.”
“Okay.”
She watched as her daughter traipsed off with more attitude than a teenager had a right to before turning back to Wanda. “I have some footage that I’m hoping will be useful and we are getting new locks today. Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yes. It’s fine. I just wanted to check in.”
“Wanda?”
They turned as her mom walked out.
“What are you doing here?”
Wanda’s expression went from hand-in-the-cookie-jar to just-out-for-a-stroll. “I’m here to see you. Thought you might want to grab some coffee.”
“Come in, come in,” she said, shooing her good friend inside. “I have to stick around here for a bit, but I made pancakes.”
“You drive a hard bargain, woman.”
Her mom laughed. “I really do.”
Sun watched them go inside, then drove Auri to school, wondering how to broach the subject at hand. How does one broach such a subject, after all? Sure, they’d had the talk. On numerous occasions, just to make sure Auri understood, but her daughter was falling hard and fast for Cruz, and as much as Sun adored him, he was still a guy. With guy parts. And a guy brain.
Ignoring the fact that Auri was just as much of a girl, with girl parts, a girl brain, and a girl heart, she pulled up to the drop-off and put her cruiser in park.
Auri turned a worried expression on her. “Why did you do that?”
“I just thought we could have a talk.”
“Oh, my god, not again.”
“It’s not that bad. I just feel like it’s been a while since we reviewed the facts of life.”
“I know the facts of life better than most girls my age. And probably better than most girls your age.”
Such a kidder, this one. “Okay, so we girls have this little thing I like to call ‘the sin cave.’”
“The what?” she asked, especially horrified, so Sun knew she was doing her job and doing it well.
“Now, there are many men out there who like to spelunk.”
“Oh, my god.” She sank down in her seat. Like that would help.
“And they like spelunking nowhere better than in the sin cave.”
“This is so wrong, Mom.”
“Now, I know you are very fond of Cruz, but guess what his one goal in life is?”
“I’m calling social services,” she said, taking out her phone.
“That’s right. To spelunk your sin cave.”
“He has never tried to spelunk my sin cave, Mom.”
Sun chastised herself for not recording this conversation, wondering how she could get her to say those exact words again into a recorder. “But he will, bug. At some point in their little lives, all boys yearn to become spelunkers in one way or another.”
“What do you mean, in one way or another?”
“You know, they either spelunk for the joy of it or the bragging rights.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am. And it’s our jobs to protect our sin cave above all other caves by sabotaging their ropes so they fall and splat onto—”
“Mom, it’s not Whitney.” She held out her phone.
“What?” Sun took it and scrolled through the new pics Whitney put up that morning.
“She posted new pics of her skiing. It’s not … I’m sorry. I thought it might have been her. I made such a big deal.”
“I don’t know, bug.” Sun zoomed in on some of the images. “I’m not ruling this out completely, but I do hope it’s her skiing and she’s okay.”
“Me too, but I feel bad now. What if you had called her mom and worried her for nothing?”
“Which is why I didn’t call her yet.”
“I just wanted to help.”
Sun tilted her head and studied her daughter. “Can I ask why?”
Auri looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I understand wanting to help, believe you me, but do you know why you want to help?”
“I don’t know. I never thought about it.” She tore at a piece of paper sticking out of her chem book. “I guess I just like helping people. Like you do.”
“And that’s noble, Auri. I can’t tell you how proud I am of that fact, but I don’t want you putting yourself in harm’s way to help someone else.”
“But that’s what you do, right?”
“Not if I can help it,” she said with a laugh. “And even if I do, it’s my job, bug.”
“Well, I’ve made a decision.”
“Oh, yeah?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “This should be good.”
“I want to go into the FBI.”
That one shocked her. For the most part, the FBI was safe enough and had some incredible opportunities, but it would most likely mean her getting sent to an office far away. Still, if it was what she wanted … “In that case, I need to tell you something.”
“Okay,” Auri said hesitantly.
“To get into the FBI, you have to have an excellent vocabulary, top-notch mathematical skills, and an analytical brain. And you have to have the ability to thrive under pressure.”
“You don’t think I can do it?”
“Not at all. I know you can do it, but you need to know, just in case you are ever asked, it’s not a percussion. It’s a concussion. And you didn’t have a submissive hemogoblin. You have a subdural hematoma.”
“Oh.”
“Otherwise, I have to say, you have an excellent vocabulary. But there is one more thing you need to get into the FBI.”
“What’s that?”
“Your virginity.”
Her daughter had the nerve to deadpan her. “Aren’t you the one who told me virginity is a social construct aimed to shame and oppress women? That there’s no such thing?”
Sun thought back. “I don’t remember telling you that.”