A/N: Cover art courtesy of lostnfovnd. Thank you so much! 💜
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Deception didn't come easily to me, but Mom didn't give me much of a choice.

In a perfect world, I would have told her the truth. But in this imaginary parallel universe, Mom wouldn't have been eighty-four. Nor would she have been raised in a rural Canadian village where Catholic precepts had almost superseded the rule of law. 

From all the stories she'd told us, the Irish migrant families hadn't changed much since they'd initially arrived during the Potato Famine. It was probably different now. But in the twenties and thirties, they'd preserved many of their isolated enclaves and enjoyed little influence from the outside world.

Like tiny organic time capsules.

It didn't matter that we lived in suburban Massachusetts on the cusp of the twenty-first century. In many ways, it was still 1860s Ireland for me.

To be fair, Mom couldn't help it if she was a bit naive or behind the times. She probably thought she was being a super progressive parent.

Despite her love and support, her strict matriarchy didn't make life easy for me. She acted as though it was her sacred duty to protect me from any possibly negative influences. In her mind, everything posed a danger: TV, movies, books, comics, music, art, magazines, you name it.

And worst of all, the Internet. 

If it hadn't been for Grandad, who'd worked as an engineer for General Electric, I never would have known it had existed. But he'd insisted on access to the Web. And when a Spartan-American put his foot down, even the matriarch had to listen.

Thank God for small miracles. And rational types like him.

That didn't prevent Mom from patrolling my media consumption like the thought police in 1984. She seemed to have an uncanny sex scene radar. If a couple started kissing on screen, Mom would invariably open the door and demand to know what I was watching. I didn't know how the hell she managed it. 

Every. Damn. Time. 

Did she have telepathy or some shit?

A part of me wanted to be a snarky whatsit and shout, "I bought a porn movie, Grandma!" Just to see what she'd say. But then I'd probably never see a TV or radio ever again.

Good luck trying to convince her you should visit Holy Cross. Overnight. 

She's going to think the worst.

Oh, well. Here goes nothing.

Buzzing from a caffeine high, I ran downstairs and found her reading the works of Thomas Aquinas in her blue rocking chair. People could say what they wanted about my grandparents. But one thing I could always count on: a wide range of dense religious, philosophical, or scientific literature. 

The only fiction novels in my house were science fiction, historical fiction, and westerns. Again, courtesy of Grandad. Fate had predetermined I would become a nerd of epic proportions. It was up to me to decide whether that would be of a religious or a sci-fi variety.

Mom glanced at me and placed her giant philosophy book aside with a thud. "You look like you want to talk, Jess."

I nodded and sat down on the couch across from her. 

Go with your gut. You got this. 

"What do you know about Holy Cross?"

"I've been suggesting you apply for months," she said, quirking her brow. "It's a prestigious university. Founded by the Jesuits. You know, my brother was a Jesuit. Genius IQ..."

On she went. Talking about all the genius members of her family, of which she was one. No, really. Back then, IQ testing was a thing. And apparently, she had reached 159 or more. 

Really does wonders for your self-esteem when you're the dumb-ass of the family. 

"What if I've changed my mind about Assumption College?" I asked, pursing my lips. "I hear Holy Cross has a brilliant language program."

"They do. I tried to tell you ages ago, but you wouldn't hear of it."

"Aunt Em attended Assumption, and she showed it to me. I loved their courses and even the grounds. Besides, they have gentler admissions standards, so I thought I'd have better chances of getting financial aid."

"You applied to Boston College," she countered.

"Yeah...but as a reach school. I don't actually expect to get the aid I need."

"You've passed the late admissions deadline, haven't you?" Mom checked her watch and nodded. "But I suppose you could transfer to Holy Cross after a year if you felt so inclined."

"Would that look bad on my resume?"

"No one cares where you attend during your first year. They care where you graduate."

"That's true."

"Take some time. Get to know the school. And if you like it, apply for a transfer."

That's actually really sensible advice. 

"My friend told me they do tours," I said with a hopeful smile. "Even overnight ones where you get to stay in the dorms, eat at the cafeteria, attend classes with your sponsor, and everything."

I could practically see her neck hair bristle at the thought. "What friend?"

"Carolyn's going to Holy Cross." 

Not a lie. 

"The girl in your French and Spanish classes?"

"Yep, she told me about it." 

Okay, that was a lie. Just a little white one, though. If I'd told her about Eric and his recommendation, I wouldn't have had a shot in hell of going. 

"Hmm, I don't know, Jess. Staying overnight with strangers you don't know?"

"It's a girl's dorm, Mom. Carolyn went for a tour twice, and she told me she loved it." 

Mom sighed. "Can you go with a friend? What about Nicky? Or even Carolyn?"

Oh, brother. Here we go.

"Nicky and I had a bit of a falling out, I'm afraid. We're not speaking."

"Jess, you can't push away all your friends. First Bryan, now Nicky?"

"Mom, please..." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Overnight tours are for individuals, not small groups."

"Safety in numbers..."

"If I'm going to stay at a school next year, I might as well try it in advance and see what it's like."

"Let me think about it," she said. "I'll talk it over with Grandad and I'll let you know what we think."

Pfft, yeah right. We all know who wears the pants in this house. You're playing for time. 

"Okay?" she asked, eyebrows raised. 

Fine, I'll play ball. This actually went pretty well.

"It'd be a great eighteenth birthday present," I said with a wide smile. 

"Subtle hint, Jess."

"The deadline is early April before finals. I've been studying really hard, and it'd make a good break."

"I said I'd think about it."

"Thanks, Mom."  

I gave her a hug of gratitude, which she happily returned. Normally, I never initiated hugs, so she gave me a surprised look. "What have you done with Jessica Smith?" she teased. 

With a chuckle, I raced back upstairs to my computer, closed my door, and signed on to AOL. The door chimed in to let me know a friend had signed on and sent me an IM. 

But it wasn't Eric. 

Wait...was Bryan flirting with me?

No, it can't be. He's with Sarah.

That wasn't like him at all. He might have been an asshole for breaking up with me like that. But he was always loyal to a fault, both as a friend and a boyfriend.

I had to put a quick stop to that nonsense. Time to engage in deflection tactics. 

Mostly, I felt sorry for him. But the little devil on my shoulder was sniggering at the cosmic irony of him being dumped in exactly the same way he'd tossed me aside. Like yesterday's cat crap. 

Stop that, Jess! Don't be a malicious little turd. You're better than that.

This is your friend. Was your friend. Might be your friend. Whatever...

Oh, no! Please don't tell me you're doing this, Bryan.

My rational mind screamed at me to slam on the brakes. 

Bryan had been my friend for seven years, though. I missed the fun times we had with Star Trek and gaming. When he'd left, I hadn't just lost my boyfriend. 

Mom was right: I couldn't keep shutting people out of my life.

Maybe I should give him another chance.

No, don't be an idiot, Jess.

Bryan loved the woman he wanted me to be. Not the woman I was. Plus, he was on the rebound from Sarah. Bryan needed time to sort his shit out.

So I had to put aside my selfish desire for friendship.

My heart sank into my stomach with dread. Not even a moment later, the phone rang. 

Oh, crap! Why did you have to open Pandora's box?