When your mother would slip into a depressive state without warning for days and weeks at a time, you learned quickly – even as a six year old – how to feed and dress yourself and get to and from school each day. By the age of eight Tessa had learned how to do the laundry, was taking out the trash, and washing the dishes. At twelve, she’d figured out how to write a check so that the rent on whatever apartment or room they were living in wasn’t late again and they weren’t threatened with eviction. By fourteen she’d more or less taken over all of the day to day chores, paid the bills, did the grocery shopping, and tried – mostly in vain – to get Gillian to take her meds. Now at the age of sixteen she was more parent than child, fully responsible for a mother who’d suffered from severe bipolar disorder ever since Tessa could remember, all while going to school and working two part-time jobs.

But she didn’t mind – not really – even though so much responsibility meant that she wasn’t free to enjoy all of the normal things teenagers experienced. Like dating, or going to high school football games and dances, or simply spending time chatting on the phone or texting her girlfriends – girlfriends that didn’t actually exist. Tessa was too busy to find time to cultivate relationships – not to mention still incredibly shy – and she was always cautious about letting people find out too much about her personal life.

She was always one of the first to arrive at school, and the little Toyota compact was one of only a dozen or so cars parked in the student lot. The ten year old car had been a gift of sorts to Gillian a few years back from a boyfriend she and Tessa had lived with for several months. Gillian had once been quite successful at wheedling things from men – clothes, jewelry, money, apartments. She had been not just extraordinarily beautiful but charming, flirtatious, and fun-loving, a combination that most men had found irresistible. But when a manic phase had really taken hold, she’d often been out of control, and the men she’d met had been unable to deal with her wildness, deeming her crazy and suddenly keeping their distance. And that had usually been when she would pack up her things, grab Tessa, and hightail it out of town.

The hallways were largely empty when Tessa entered the school building, as was the cafeteria. Very few of the students ate breakfast here, the vast majority of them coming from well-to-do families who didn’t have to rely on their children receiving reduced cost meals from the school district. For Tessa, however, the supplemental meals were a godsend, even if some of the menu items didn’t always look particularly appetizing.

She hurried through her breakfast – French toast with yogurt and fruit – before pulling out her geometry book to cram a final few minutes of studying. Fortunately, the unsettled feeling she’d woken up with seemed to have settled down, and she hoped that her superstition about Wednesdays would prove to be unfounded this time around.

Tessa kept her head down and didn’t make eye contact with any of the other students as she made her way to geometry, her first class of the day. She had become adept at making herself as invisible as possible over the years, figuring that if she didn’t draw attention to herself no one would delve deeper into her private life and thus determine that Gillian wasn’t in any condition to raise a teenager. Tessa made sure she was at school every day, always on time, and that she never cut class. She was diligent about turning in her homework, keeping quiet in class, and generally flying under the radar. Kids like her who stayed out of trouble weren’t the ones who normally got called to the principal’s office, or gave teachers or counselors cause to start poking around into their personal business. And it was more important than ever, given Gillian’s rapid descent into total darkness, that no one – students, teachers, social workers – ever suspected how bad things were for Tessa at home these days.

She was startled, therefore, when Logan Dunbar – the really cute guy she’d admittedly had a secret little crush on since the first day of school this year – sat down at the desk to her right and grinned at her broadly.

“Hi, Tessa,” he greeted. “Ready for the test?”

Tessa could only gape at him for long seconds, startled that he even knew her name, and even more so that he seemed to be going out of his way to speak to her. Not only was Logan a hunk – tall and rangy with longish dirty blond hair and mischievous green eyes – but he was definitely one of the most popular guys in their junior class. He played on one of the sports teams – football or maybe soccer, she wasn’t exactly sure – and always seemed to be surrounded by a group of both guys and girls, of which he was the undisputed leader.

Aware that he was gazing at her expectantly, Tessa felt her cheeks grow hot and she mumbled almost incoherently, “Um, I, uh, think so. I hope it isn’t going to be too hard.”

Logan winked at her. “I doubt it. At least, not like the last one. Man, I sweated bullets taking that test, thought for sure I was going to flunk it.”

Tessa struggled mightily to dream up a witty reply, but her tongue seemed glued to the roof of her mouth at the moment so she only smiled in return. Logan’s twinkling green eyes roved over her curly blonde hair and flushed cheeks, before dropping to the swell of her breasts beneath her thin cotton T-shirt. When he lifted his gaze back up to her face, his eyes had darkened noticeably.

“Hey, tell you what,” he offered. “If we both survive today’s test, we should celebrate a little. You want to go out with me this Friday night to the movies?”

Now she was completely flabbergasted, and looked around in disbelief to make sure Logan wasn’t trying to prank her around his friends. But no one else was paying the slightest bit of attention to either of them, so she knew he was being serious.

“F-Friday?” she stammered. “Um, I’ve got to work on Friday. I don’t get off until eight.”

Logan shrugged. “That’s not so late. We could catch a movie at nine or even ten. How about it?”

Tessa bit her bottom lip uncertainly. Normally she dashed home right after work to check on Gillian, to make sure she was okay after having been left alone all day. But maybe – just maybe – her mother might be able to rouse herself for once so that Tessa could have a bit of fun. She’d talk to Gillian tonight – or at least try to – and keep her fingers crossed.

“Maybe,” hedged Tessa. “I – that is, my mom hasn’t been feeling very well for the last couple of months so I don’t like to leave her alone at night. But, um, let me talk to her tonight, okay? Can I let you know tomorrow?”