Alex: "Azalea's mom was something else."

Hannah: "I'll say. And Dale definitely didn't help either."

Hunter: "I'm glad Azalea had my back though—she really came through for me."

Azalea Rose Jackson:

"Hi, Mom," I said with a smile as she opened the door.

"Azalea." She smiled back warmly. "Are these your friends?"

I nodded, pointing to them individually. "This is Alex, Hannah, and Hunter."

"Oh, your teammates?" she asked, her eyes growing wide.

I nodded happily as she curtsied before us.

"Well, let me be the first to offer my sincerest congratulations. I'm delighted to get to meet you all." She paused. "Well, don't just stand there—come inside! What's that line from The Little Mermaid? 'We mustn't lurk in doorways.'"

Hunter smiled at me, clenched my hand inside his own as we ambled forward, Alex and Hannah following.

As soon as we'd made it through the door, I could see the awe written on their faces. In the main foyer hung a gold-rimmed crystal chandelier with ten lights. It cast white rays that, struck by the sunlight, split into rainbow-drenched sparkles that descended to settle on the marble-encrusted vanity. The smell of fresh coffee wafted in from the kitchen, whose granite countertop sidings and plush burgundy chairs shone invitingly from a distance, beckoning us to sit and indulge.

"Wow," I heard Alex whisper.

As we strode through the hallway, the four of us following my mother, I caught Hunter eyeing the life-sized portraits that decorated the walls. "Whoa, these are some really nice paintings," he breathed.

"Why, thank you," my mom said into the air. "I bought them at an auction in Los Angeles a few months ago. They were only a few hundred thousand each, so I figured why not splurge a little. I'm absolutely in love with renaissance art. It's a true delight, purely ethereal—and just so inspiring."

Seriously, Mom? I rolled my eyes, then tried my best to change the subject. "You still have all the ice cream and stuff from earlier, right, Mom?"

"Oh, right, of course!" She lifted both hands in excitement as we followed her into the kitchen. "I put them all in the freezer the moment I made it back home." She paused, then added, "By the way, would you all like to stay for dinner?"

****

Dinner was great. If there was one thing my mom did better than flash her money in other people's faces, it was cook. I guess that's one stereotype her green washcloth hadn't quite wiped away.

After the meal, Hannah and Alex decided to head out. I knew Alex was biking, so I offered to drive Hannah; but she declined with a sweet and girlishly mischievous smile—she'd much rather ride Alex's handlebars home.

Hunter called his dad, but no one picked up. "That's weird," he mused. "His phone's always on. Maybe I should text him."

He texted.

Still no response.

"Maybe his phone's dead," I offered.

"Can't be—he's got read receipts on, and it says he just saw my message."

I placed a single hand on my hip. "Is he seriously just not gonna answer?"

Hunter's eyes fell, and he shook his head.

"...Do you think he really meant it when he said you couldn't come home?"

"I—I don't know."

I hesitated. "Try calling one more time. No way was he serious."

With shaking fingers, Hunter pressed Call again.

The low mutter of the dial tone buzzed out, hollow and frail.

Hunter looked to me, his eyes fearful as the monotone pitch flicked suddenly to the strident husk of an angry voice—

"Whaddayou want, you little prick!?"

"Dad, I need you to come pick me up..."

"SCREW YOU! You disrespect me and expect favors. You can forget it, you dumbfu—"

Hunter cut off the speakerphone. "Sorry," he mouthed to me.

"Turn it back on," I said. "I don't care what he says."

Hunter pressed the speakerphone button again—

"AND YOU TELL THAT KINKY SKANK TO SHUT HER STUPID TRAP! I AIN'T ABOUT TO COME GIT YOU! YOU CAN LIVE ON THE STREET! SEE IF I GIVE A—"

Hunter cut off speakerphone again. He pulled his head closer to the phone. "Dad, come on. Please..."

I heard the phone click, followed by another wave of that sunken, rumbling dial tone.

Hunter shut his eyes.

"What happened?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. "What else did he say?"

"You heard most of it. He basically told me I can't come home." Hunter paused, shoving both hands in his pockets. "Mind giving me a ride to a hotel?"

"Hotel? Gosh, Hunter, what kind of a heartless jerk do you think I am? Just spend the night here."

His eyes lit up. "What? A-are you serious?"

"Yeah, for sure. Just let me ask my mom." I left him beaming in the dining area as I trotted off, climbed the steps and strode down the upstairs hallway to my mother's bedroom.

When I arrived, she was applying makeup, and I remembered that on Thursdays, she liked to go out with a few of her friends—which meant Hunter and I would have the whole house to ourselves.

"Hey, Mom?" I asked.

"Yes, honey?" She powdered her cheekbones as she spoke.

"Can Hunter stay over tonight? He's having some family trouble, and he can't exactly go home right now."

"Oh, Azalea, tell him to go to the Embassy. It's just up the street, and it's only a couple hundred a night."

"Mom, are you serious?"

"Azalea, I'm not prepared for this. I will be very busy tonight, and entertaining guests was not part of my schedule."

"But, Mom, he just needs a place to stay. He's not asking for entertainment—"

"Azalea, no. Not tonight. It's too short of notice."

"But DeAnthony and LaDarius stay over all the time without me telling you in advance. Remember that night they just randomly walked in drunk off their rockers and you told them to sleep it off in the guest room?"

"Well, DeAnthony and LaDarius are fine, upstanding young men—" Just as she spoke, her hand mirror fell to the floor and shattered in half, and she let out a shriek. "Oh, look what you've made me do! Now I'll have to spruce in the vanity." She turned daintily to the giant vanity mirror and began inspecting the dark curls in her hair.

"Fine? Upstanding!?" I practically screeched. "Mom, did you miss the part where I said they came in drunk? How on Earth is that fine and upstanding?"

"Azalea, darling, if you don't want those boys over here anymore, you shouldn't invite them. It's that simple." Her tone was straining toward impatience, sullen eyes staring back at me through the mirror's reflection.

I sighed. "Mom, that's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" She twisted two fingers through a curly strip of hair that refused to stay in place.

"The point is that Hunter is more my friend than either of those buffoons are, and he should have just as much right to stay here as they do."

"Azalea, listen." She paused, her words measured and careful. "Boys like Hunter can't be trusted."

"And what exactly are 'boys like Hunter'?" A hand rose to my hip.

"Azalea, I think you know."

My mouth fell open in shock. "This is unbelievable! Are you seriously telling me he can't stay with us just because—"

"HOW DARE YOU!?" My mother screamed suddenly, her eyes lifting with rage from the vanity mirror as she turned to point menacingly at the doorway behind me.

I whirled around and saw Hunter standing barely in the door. "Hunter!?" I gasped. "Were you...spying on us?"

"No!" he blurted, raising both hands in defense. "I promise I wasn't!"

"How dare you eavesdrop on my conversation!" My mother was livid.

"Wait," he begged, "Please—it wasn't like that—!"

"Leave my home this instant!"

"Mom, wait," I tried. "At least hear what he has to say—"

"I SAID OUT!" Her gaze shifted to me, wildfire blazing in her eyes. "Azalea, you have thirty seconds to get that white trash out of this house before I call the police!"

"Mom, please!"

She eyed me cruelly. "Twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six..."

A pulse of sadness overtaking my fleeting surprise, I turned fearfully to Hunter, who bowed his head in defeat, the two of us skittishly exiting the room under my mother's vociferous countdown.

We sidled down the stairs, Hunter picking up his backpack from the foyer as we trudged to the front door.

"I'm so sorry, Hunter," I began, tears building up around the makeup barrier beneath my eyes.

"Hey, don't cry." His bright blue eyes shone as he reached out and stroked my face, brushing back my dark hair now wet with tears. "Look, I'll be fine," he said. "That embassy's only a few hundred a night, right?" He joked, managed a half smile.

"Hunter, I'm serious," I cried on. "This is so awful." I paused. "And...and why were you outside the door looking in on us anyway?"

"I heard glass breaking, and then your mom screamed, and...and I just got afraid you were hurt or something." He bowed his head. "And when I came up and saw you guys were fine, I was about to leave. But she saw me, and—well, you know the rest."

I buried my head in Hunter's shoulder, tears soaking the fabric of his collared cotton shirt.

"Hey, it's okay," he said. "It was my fault. I guess that's what I get for lurking in doorways." His attempts at humor only made me cry even more. I couldn't believe this.

As we plodded outside and climbed inside my car, I bit back a scream. But Hunter kept his cool; he even smiled at me. "Azalea, I'll be fine, really," he kept reassuring as I cranked up the car, put the gear in reverse, and backed out of the driveway.

Just as we were pulling off, the swirling mist of the fallen night wisping foggy breaths against the windshield, I felt the light of a new and daring idea burst to life inside my head. "Oh my gosh!"

"Azalea, wha—?"

"Hunter, I just thought of something!" I grabbed my purse from the floor between my feet and shoved it into his arms. "Reach in the front pocket—get my phone. Call Hannah and put her on speaker!"

****

"I can't believe you're actually going through with this," were Hannah's first words when I'd told her the whole plan.

"Oh, come on, Hannah. You know how messed up it is that Hunter's not allowed to stay at my house just because he's white."

"True," Hannah granted, "but how are you so sure you're not going to get caught? I mean, does your mom, like, never go in the basement?"

I smiled. "Well, my basement is pretty much the size of a small house. There're plenty of places for Hunter to hide if he hears someone coming. And my mom knows that I study in the basement all the time, so she won't think it's weird if I start going down there a little more often than usual."

"But wait—remind me again why I'm keeping your car at my house and driving you two to school for the next week?"

"Well, I had to stash my car somewhere. And if I say that I let Hunter borrow it so he'll have some transportation for a little while, my mom's more likely to think that he's gone—after all, if I don't have my car and he's 'staying at the Embassy,' then he couldn't possibly be living in my basement, right?"

"...Still sounds kinda shaky to me," Hannah said. "I mean, if your mom's as uptight as she seems, I'd imagine she'd roast you alive if she found out Hunter was driving your car."

I shook my head knowingly. "It'll be a slap on the wrist at most. I bought that car with my own savings, and if she thinks I don't have it anymore, she'll be way too relieved that I've got no way to visit Hunter."

Hannah shrugged. "If you really think this'll work, I'm all in. The way your mom freaked out like that was so not okay."

Hannah pulled her car up to the curb outside my house and dropped me off at the front patio, then I strolled up the porch and let myself inside. By then, my mom had already left to go out with her friends, and a lingering stillness hung in the indoor air. I scurried downstairs to the basement and stole straightaway toward the exit.

Quivering a bit with nerves, Hunter was still smiling when I swung the cellar door wide. We both thanked Hannah again, and she drove off as we turned to descend the steps to the basement's interior.

I stayed down there with Hunter and helped him get situated, and we chattered on in the palely lit darkness until he fell asleep. Then I headed back upstairs to my room and did the same.

The next morning, I awoke and waited for my mom to leave for work before I got dressed and returned to my home's underground dwellings to check on Hunter. Once he'd finished packing his supplies for school, the two of us climbed together through the basement door and met Hannah, whose car sat on the street directly adjacent to the back porch.

She shook her head with a smile as we slid inside her vehicle. "You two are insane."

Hunter and I both laughed as Hannah's foot pushed on the gas pedal and we sped away.

To say that Friday went by in a blast would be the understatement of the century. I honestly felt as though I were in a dream—a dream where Hunter and I were forbidden lovers dodging the judgmental eyes of a disapproving overlord, seeking shelter in an absconded underground safe house!—and when I awoke, my Calculus III professor was dismissing class.

I caught up with Hunter outside, and we kissed as Hannah drove up. "Are you two lovebirds gonna smooch all day?" she joked through the front window, Alex chuckling in the passenger's seat next to her. "Or can we all head home before Christmas gets here?"

****

When we made it to my house, I let Hunter in the basement and then ran back up to meet my mom, who was pacing past the kitchen in a pair of quilted black slippers that matched her blouse of midnight silk.

"Hello, darling," she said. "How was school today?"

"Okay, I guess," I answered, giggling inside. "Calculus was interesting. But school is school, and I'm glad to be done for the day."

"Well, that's good, I suppose," she replied fleetingly, taking pause to peer out the window as an engine whirring just beyond the glass signaled the arrival of shining vehicle painted a sharp and royal blue.

"Oh, how wonderful! He's here!" My mother's eyes grew wide before turning to me suddenly. "Azalea, you must come outside. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

I followed her out to the sleek, polished Rolls-Royce that waited on the pavement. When its driver stepped out and rose from behind the tinted glass to meet my gaze, my heart leapt inside of me.

His hair was low-cut and very well kept. He stood a little over six feet tall and wore a dark blue polo with khaki slacks and Sperry's. His almond eyes, warmly squared jaw, and golden-brown skin belonged in a fashion magazine. And as he reached for my hand to press a gentle kiss against it, his gorgeous smile sent my head spinning.

"How do you do, Ms. Jackson?"

I stood there giggling stupidly for at least a few moments before I finally answered, "Hehe, I'm g-good."

"My name is Dale Evanston. My father is a friend of your mother's. And when he let slip that the lovely Mrs. Luvietta Jackson had a daughter, why, I thought it was a tragedy that we had yet to make one another's acquaintance. It is truly a pleasure to meet a young lady as beautiful as yourself."

Thank God I'm black, or I'd be blushing blood red right now.

I could feel myself shivering, but I tried to give him my most attractive smile, raising one hand to brush through ebony waves that I now wished I'd spent more time straightening earlier that morning.

"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tonight? I've already cleared it with your mother and father—they've conferred their permission."

I paused, my smile fading. "S-sure," I answered abruptly, ignoring the trident of caution stabbing at my tongue.

What about Hunter!? my brain screamed at me. You know, the boy hiding in the basement?

I hesitated, quivering on my feet. "...Pick me up at seven?"

Dale nodded politely, and I curtsied with a smile, doing my best to ignore the ambivalence wobbling through my legs.

Moments later, Dale reentered his Rolls-Royce, cruising up the street and out of view. And the moment his vehicle disappeared over the hill past a set of gaudy trees, my mother spun on her heel and grabbed me by the shoulders, practically flying me back inside the house.

"Oh, this is just wonderful," she gushed as we made it through the doorway. "If he's arriving at seven, that doesn't give you much time, but it should still work." She ran her fingers through my hair as we walked. "Alright, go upstairs and start drawing a bath; I'll have to lend you my straightening iron, because this hair simply won't do..."

I rolled my eyes and began tuning her out, my mind shifting again to Hunter as my mother chattered on. He was still downstairs, still waiting trustfully in the basement—probably starting his homework or messaging some of the guys from the football team.

After sequestering me in my upstairs bathroom, my mother scampered down the hall. I started running bath water, the liquid's ice-blue shade calling to mind a certain pair of eyes just two floors beneath where I now stood.

Arms shaking beside me, I rose my head from the tub's water and hazarded a glance back at the mirror, biting my lower lip as my reflection met my gaze.

****

Moonlit night had fallen by the time I was skittering to the first floor on the balls of my feet, a pair of black two-inch heels in hand as I stopped nervously and listened for the voice of my mother.

In the distance, I heard her cheery wails of delight, apprising my father over the telephone of all the day's events. Knowing I had only precious few moments before she barreled from her bedroom and demanded I display myself to her, I drew in a tenuous breath and wavered downstairs, then tiptoed toward the door to the basement.

"Hunter!" I called out in a hoarse whisper as I swung the door open and stole furtively down the steps.

"Azalea?" The moment I saw him, pale light shimmering overhead, he bolted up from one of the couches situated along the wall. "Whoa." He took a step back, a steamcloud of blush rising to his cheeks.

I stopped in my tracks, glanced down at myself for the first time since I'd made it home. I'd spent the past hour and a half titivating before my bathroom's crystalline mirror, micromanaging every infinitesimal detail, but I hadn't paused to truly take in my appearance until now.

I was draped in the dark fabrics of a cocoon-collared trumpet dress, short and gently ruffled sleeves overhanging my shoulders, while a necklace of gold links adorned with a pearlene centerpiece hung around my neck. The high-heeled shoes in my hand were a lustrous ebony; and they matched the darkly flowing, freshly straightened waves of hair that fell volumized behind my shoulders.

"You...you look beautiful," Hunter breathed.

"Wow, um...thanks." I hesitated, eyes darting off.

Hunter's voice fell. "Is everything okay?"

I sighed. "Look, I know this is crazy, but my mom just set me up on a date tonight with this...this model. And I know this is sorta weird because me and you are kind of, well, I mean...you know..."

He smiled as I glanced back at him. "It's fine, Azalea."

I felt my eyes pop wide. "Wait, what? You're not mad?"

"Of course not." He reached out and wrapped his hands around mine. "I like you, Azalea. I really like you." He paused,