When I reached the top of the stairs, my grandparents were arguing in hushed tones. I'd long since learned how to quiet everything--my steps, my breath--to listen in on their conversations about me.

I know it's bad, but they never tell me anything. At least nothing important.

And I need to know if this Holy Cross thing is happening or not.

One advantage of living with people in their late seventies was that their whispers resembled soft voices. They thought I had ears and eyes like a hawk. In reality, I just wasn't ancient, which made stealthy reconnaissance missions easier.

"Stop with the laundry list of rules, Carm!" Grandad growled under his breath. "Let the girl breathe."

"You know how she is," Mom said. "She gets all excited, and we won't be able to afford it."

"She's going to be eighteen in a few days."

"I know."

"She'll be an adult. You need to give her space, or she'll push us away." He pushed in the chair with more force than necessary. "Make her get a job and pay for it herself if you're worried."

"Jess needs to focus on school and work later, Ted." Mom sighed. "I need to know she's okay, but I don't want her getting into trouble or racking up a huge bill or talking with strange boys."

"Sometimes, Carmel, you don't know shit from Shinola!"

"Ted!"

I could imagine her incredulous, disdainful expression. It took all my willpower to stifle a giggle behind my hand. All too right. And the worst part was that Mom had the intellect to know better.

"I caught her arguing with Bryan on the phone," she added. "If she does that for hours, we'll be out of house and home."

WTF? Was she listening to my conversation?

Oh, wait...

A pang of guilt stung my chest.

"Why did you let me buy it for her if you were going to kick up such a fuss?" he asked.

Mom always said Grandad was like a teddy bear: gruff on the outside, but soft and cuddly on the inside. His bluntness made me look like a damned diplomat.

"For my own peace of mind," she replied.

"Jess is smart. You taught her well. Let her live."

Mom called upstairs in a voice meant to drag me from Everquest. "Jess, dinner's ready." I grimaced and put my hands over my ears. "It's getting cold."

I tiptoed away from the banister and called to her from my room. "Coming!"

Trying to seem natural, I went downstairs. Despite my eavesdropping, my eyes still bugged out of their sockets when I saw the kitchen table. And my reaction wasn't fake.

Where my plate should have been, lay a perfectly wrapped box, covered in colorful bows and ribbons.

What in the world? My birthday isn't until Thursday. Today is only Sunday.

They began to sing the "Happy Birthday" song in harmony as I raced down the steps and toward my seat. Grinning like that idiotic cat from Alice in Wonderland, I stared at the colorful present. Once they'd finished, I lifted my shocked gaze to Mom and Grandad.

"Surprise!" Grandad said, raising his bushy eyebrows.

"We decided to give your gift to you early," Mom said, "so that you can take it with you to Holy Cross next weekend."

"Oh my gosh!" I said in a high-pitched squee. "Does that mean I can go?"

"You can go," Grandad replied with a deep laugh as he tapped the present. "As long as you take this with you."

"Thank you! You're the best!" I gave them giant hugs before pulling a fake concerned expression. "It isn't pepper spray, is it?"

"Do I look like your dad?"

I chuckled in reply. "May I open it now? Or do I have to wait?"

Mom gave me a smile. "Of course. It's yours, dear."

At first, I attempted a modicum of self-restraint. But when I realized it was a gadget rather than clothes, I tore open the wrapping paper like a crazed gremlin.

"Oh, wow! What...?"

My breath rushed from my chest as tears pricked my eyes. "A cell phone?" I squealed two octaves higher than normal.

How the hell did they afford this? And can I get an hallelujah?

"Now we have some ground rules," Mom said.

I nodded dumbly. Never in a thousand years would I have guessed that was my present. A cell phone. Of my own. No more surveillance from Mom.

Freedom. Independence. Privacy.

As Mom's voice faded into the background, I read the specs on the box. An internal antenna. Awesome! Super-long battery life. I could even make my own ringtones. The Nokia 3210 was one of the best and most popular phones on the market.

Going to have to search for the key to "The Imperial March".

"Thanks, Grandad!" I shouted, interrupting Mom's continued monologue.

She gave me a sour look, and he curled his lip. "It was Carm's idea."

Yeah, right. Mom probably conceded defeat on the Holy Cross debate as long as she had a way to monitor me from a distance. The solution would have come from him, though.

"Thanks, Mom!" I said as a cursory gesture. My eyes fell on a small package next to it. "Oh, what's this?"

"A SIM for your phone," Grandad replied. "It won't work without it."

"Awesome, thanks!"

"Remember: only call our home phone with this," Mom said. "That's free, but other calls cost money."

"She gets it, Carm."

"You mean I can't talk to my friends?" I asked, crestfallen.

"It's an emergency phone, Jess."

"What about Carolyn?"

"You only get thirty free minutes a month to call other people," Mom insisted. "Keep them for family in case you can't reach us."

I gave her a crooked smile. "So I do have free minutes to call Carolyn."

"Don't sass your grandmother," Grandad said. "We have to keep the costs manageable."

"Sorry. I was just teasing."

"You'll call us twice a day when you're at Holy Cross," Mom said in a firm tone. "That's what it's for."

"Twice?!"

"Once in the morning and once before bed, or there's no deal."

"All right," I said with a grin, staring as I unboxed my new device like Gollum with the One Ring. "I love it! It's perfect. Can I try it now? Just to make sure it works?"

Grandad acted like he was getting a new gadget for Christmas too as he put in the SIM and battery and handed it to me. We checked out all the features, ringtones, and games like Snake while Mom looked on with a wistful expression.

I felt kinda bad for her. My whole life, Grandad and I had gotten along so well--like real friends, not just family. Mom had taken on the parental role with all the authority, which meant I'd always kept her on a raised dais of respect.

But that meant that Mom and I had never become as close.

"Oh, my God! This is awesome."

"Jess, language," Mom said in a firm tone.

"Sorry, Mom. I meant 'Gosh.'"

"Right, call the home phone to see if it works," Grandad said, his eyes twinkling.

I dialed, and our phone rang. Grandad answered, pretending it was a real call.

"Hi, Jess. Where are you?" he teased. "Better not be with a boy."

"Ted!"

"Don't worry, Grandad," I replied with a grin. "I'm safe from the evil gender."

Grandad hung up the phone with a mischievous grin. "It works. Haha!"

"Hooray!" I said, jumping to my feet. "I'm going to send Carolyn one little text. That way she has my number."

"Texting may not be included," Grandad said.

"What's a text?" Mom asked.

"Like a mini e-mail."

"Just send her an email, Jess."

"I can't send personal information via email," I said. "If I send her a text, it'll be cheaper than calling her on the home phone."

"Fine, Jess," Grandad said. "Just this one text as a birthday present." When Mom gave him a stern look, he shrugged. "That way Jess knows it works."

"All right. I suppose. Just this once."

Grandad gave me a wink, and I wrote Carolyn a message. Before I clicked send, I showed Mom.

"See, it's harmless."

"What's XXX?" Mom asked, suspicious.

"Means friendly hugs, that's all."

She scowled at the message and gave me a curt nod. "Don't rack up a huge bill, or we'll cancel the phone contract."

"Don't worry, Mom."

A cute little ding informed me that Carolyn had sent me a reply.

"What's that weird noise?" Mom asked.

"It's a notification. Look." I showed her the text, and she hummed with wonder. "See, Mom? It's awesome. Like a portable computer."

"Let her know that it won't be your new way of communicating."

"I know, Mom."

While I played Snake on my phone, Grandad tried to convince Mom they needed one as well. "We wouldn't have to be home or at the computer to talk to Jess when she goes to college."

"Ugh, I'll think about it."

"It's time we joined the twenty-first century, Carm."

"The contracts are really expensive." She grabbed the SIM packet. "Thirty dollars a month for thirty minutes? It's ridiculous."

"It'd be free to call Jess since we have the family plan, and we can contact her from anywhere."

Mom huffed. "Maybe."

Grandad and I exchanged our secret look. The one that said, Don't worry, we'll bring her 'round.

So many possibilities. Best of all, I was headed to Holy Cross.

Hello, awesome language lab.

My heart thudded against my ribs at the thought of going to a college overnight. Mostly I daydreamed about the opportunity of trying dozens of new languages.

But I'd be lying if I said a little part of me didn't want to meet Eric in person.