Kylie opened her web account and saw a whole buttload of e-mails: a few from her mom, a couple from her dad, one from Sara, and some spam, and then a few from accounts she didn't recognize.

Ignoring her incoming mail, she clicked on the button to send a new e-mail, typed in Derek's name, and then started typing the description of the waitress uniform. She recalled all the things she'd learned about Cara M. and found herself wishing she had someone to talk to about them. Then again, she did have someone-the person she was e-mailing. Derek.

Miranda and Della's laughter spilled out of Della's bedroom. Why did hearing them laugh make her feel lonely?

The answer bubbled to the top of her mind. Because they were giddy with the idea of romance, of getting all dolled up to impress guys. Right now, the idea of romance left Kylie feeling befuddled. It felt like Lucas was pulling away and somehow Derek was sneaking closer. And nothing felt right.

But she still felt lonely.

Remembering the e-mail from her mom, Kylie picked up the phone and dialed her number. The phone rang four times before her mom answered.

"Hi, Mom," Kylie said.

"Hey, sweetie," her mom answered, and the sound of her voice had Kylie feeling homesick. "Is everything okay?" her mom asked.

"It's fine. Why do you always assume when I call you that something is wrong?"

"I don't always assume that. Only sometimes. And this is one of those times. I must be psychic. So stop pretending and tell me what's up."

Heck. Maybe her mom was a supernatural.

"Nothing," Kylie said. "I just got an e-mail from you and thought I'd call you. You are always saying I don't call enough."

"True." Her mom paused. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

Giving in because lying sure as hell didn't seem to work, Kylie answered, "Just a bad day."

"You know if you change your mind about staying there for the school year, and want to come home, I could get you enrolled back in school here and-"

"I'm not going to change my mind, Mom. I love it here." I belong here. "I'm allowed to have a bad day, right?"

"Yes, just like I'm allowed to worry about you when you have a bad day."

"Well, don't worry too much." There was a sudden background noise on the line.

"Where are you?" Kylie asked.

"Out to an early dinner."

"Alone?" Kylie asked, hoping her mom wasn't out with Smarmy John, who wanted to drag her mom off to England and get her naked and between the sheets.

As soon as the thought came, Kylie tried to push it away.

"Uh, no." Her mom's answer came out sounding guilty. "Not alone."

"With John?" Kylie attempted to keep her disappointment from her voice, but didn't think she was successful.

The silence lingered a few seconds on the line.

"It's a yes or no answer, Mom. It shouldn't take you that long to reply." Kylie realized she sounded just like her mom, too. But damn, she was certain her mom had used the exact line on her at one time or another.

"Uh ... yes," her mom's reply came out.

Kylie closed her eyes. As if her brain were on automatic pilot, the question slipped out. "You're not having sex with him, are you?" And even before the last word of the inquiry left her lips, she knew she was going to regret it.

Oh, yeah, regret times ten. Kylie felt her face turn red.

Her mom's breath caught and she started coughing. "Uh..." More hacking.

"Hello, Kylie." A male voice came on the line. "I think your mom choked on her wine."

Wine? Her mom was drinking wine at three in the afternoon? Was he planning on getting her drunk and having his way with her?

"Kylie? You there?"

"Yeah." Kylie heard her mom telling John to give her the phone back. Kylie imagined her mom panicking thinking Kylie might ask John if they were having sex. Not that she would. The fact that she asked her mom was probably going on her most embarrassing moments list.

"Kylie?" Her mom must have snagged the phone back. "We ... should talk later." Her voice came out squeaky, like a cartoon.

"Yeah. Later." Kylie disconnected and stared at the phone.

Okay, lesson learned. Her mom not only couldn't say the word sex, she obviously couldn't hear it, either. Did that mean her mom couldn't have sex? Gawd, Kylie hoped so. Lesson number two. Talking about sex with her mom made her queasy. Could she possibly suffer from the same affliction as her mom?

Resting her phone by the computer, pushing thoughts of her mom having sex from her mind, Kylie refocused on the computer and tried not to listen to her roommates giggling about something-probably something to do with sex, too. Moaning, she dropped her head down on the table, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks, hoping the coolness of the wood would chase away the heat.

Her phone, placed beside the computer, chimed with an incoming text. Sitting up, she picked it up to get the message. Her heart did a little jolt when she saw it was from Derek.

His message read: You ok? What's happening?

Kylie closed her eyes. Could he sense everything she was feeling now? She dropped her head back on the table again, so hard she probably bruised her forehead. She took a few deep breaths and then sat up and started texting him back.

Fine. E-mailing you the description of the diner uniform now. U going to the reception?

She held her breath and waited to see if he'd answer.