“Yes, I know, but we would like to make sure that they don’t have a problem with it happening so often. And, Dawn, we can’t just let you go wherever you please without knowing if there will be some kind of chaperon or not,” Walter said firmly.

        Dawn looked helplessly at her mother, but she was, once again, turned to the mirror, exchanging one pair of earrings for another.

        “Daddy, I’m fifteen years old! It’s fine with them; believe me!” she pleaded. “Melissa asked them last night!” She was making it obvious that she had some preconceived plan for the evening, most likely composed of lies, deceit, and dismissal of the law- a recipe for a beautiful kind of night that defies and defines; a night of other wise unobtainable reward, a night that most parents would disguise as a regrettable mistake…

   “Dawn, you listen to me, you have no say in this!” said Walter. He wasn’t yelling, but the agitated qualities in his voice were conveying the same effect. “Your mother and I have a right to know who you are staying with and what you will be up to. And if I find out that you are lying to me, then your not going anywhere for–for who knows how long!”

   “Lying? Do you really think I would lie to you Dad?” Little teardrops were forming their ranks on her eyelids- occasionally peering over the narrow edges- taking last deep breaths before their suicidal leaps into the long awaited air of purpose.

   “I guess we’ll find out won’t we? What is her home number?”

   “Walter, shut up and just let her go.” The heated discussion had not been a part of Marie’s intentions for the evening, so she cooled it down to conclusion with a few justifiable words of her own.  “Has she ever lied about her whereabouts before?”

   “No, but sti-”

   “Has she ever given us any reason whatsoever to distrust her?”

   “No.”