Missed the first parts of Conner’s story? Catch up with them below:
And just like that, I had a boyfriend.
I drove home with the girls that night, all of us rejoicing but completely stunned. None of us had seen that coming because of how aloof Conner always had been with me.
Lying down to sleep that night, I thought to myself over and over, “Conner is my boyfriend. Conner is my boyfriend!” because I was afraid that when I woke up in the morning, I would have discovered it was just a dream.
But it wasn’t. Conner started hanging out at my house with me in the little free time I had. Unfortunately, that was usually when my parents were home, but I was still happy to spend time with him, even if it was supervised. We would sit on my couch and watch TV together, his arm around me.
“Your parents don’t care that I’m here?” he asked one day, my mom and dad wandering in and out from the kitchen, but not interrupting us.
“No,” I told him.
Honestly, I didn’t really know. My parents had never established any rules about dating with me. It’s possible that they never thought it would happen, especially now that I was in my senior year and had never had a boyfriend for the duration of the time that I was in Texas. To them, it probably seemed as if I was too busy, what with all of my activities, but they had no understanding of how boy-crazy I was.
“They don’t care that we’re sitting here cuddling with them here?” he pressed, his arm around my waist, me leaning into his chest.
“Nope,” I said.
I mean, I assumed I was right. They hadn’t said anything yet. Although I knew my mom did not approve of Conner.
Once, before Conner and I started dating, she was with my friends and me at the mall when Erin had spotted Conner between stores, and we all had stopped to chat. For some reason, he had dyed his hair a brighter, unnatural red. I didn’t like it, and I’m not positive that he did, either.
“Who’s that?” my mom asked as he walked off.
After we explained how we knew him, my mom declared, “He looks like Bozzo the Clown.”
My friends laughed, but I was offended. I knew my mom better than they did, so I was aware that this was a dig because she knew I was into him, as if dissing him would discourage my interest.


I thought Conner resembled Brendan Fraser, an opinion with which Erin agreed.
“Who’s Brendan Fraser?” he asked when I told him this.
“The actor you look like,” I joked.
“Is that a good thing?”
“That you look like the hot guy from The Mummy? Yeah, it’s good,” I reassured him.
When my mom learned we were going out, she didn’t forbid it, but she was openly against it, continuing with comments like the Bozzo one, even when his hair was fully returned to his natural color. I loved Conner’s red hair, so I was bitter at this joke. I always defended him, then ignored my mom’s sourness towards the situation. Conner wasn’t a bad guy, and she had no good reason to dislike him.
The moments like the ones we had on the couch that day were sparing, because I had yearbook deadlines, choir performances, theatre rehearsals, and homework. There were rare moments when Conner would pick me up in his car, announcing to the neighborhood that he had arrived with his thunderous engine, and we could be alone.
There was one problem. And it was because of me.
{this chapter’s companion episode is coming next week!}
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