My quest for freedom began in senior year after I'd trapped myself in a downward spiral of overwork. Taking eight classes shouldn't have been possible with only seven periods a day. But I managed it by splitting my time equally between Spanish and French.

Yes, because I'm really that mental.

Well, the crazy idea didn't come from me alone. St. Stephen's had planned Spanish IV and French IV at the exact same time. Care ended up dropping French, which was the smart thing to do, but I didn't want to stop either language. 

That meant I'd either have to split myself in half—not really a viable option—or attend class every other day. So I chose the latter.

Instead of school taking up a lot of my time, it consumed my whole life. Every night I stayed up until midnight completing all my assignments: another project, a huge paper, an essay, or exam prep. Somehow I managed to squeeze in college applications, taking my placement exams, and writing motivation letters.

That all happened in addition to several extracurricular activities. And church, of course, because God forbid I neglected my spiritual duties.

Most weekends I spent in the library finishing up projects because Grandad remained too damned stubborn to let me use the Internet. When I asked him to take me to the library again right after church, he exploded like a malfunctioning rocket.

"Jess Maria Sophia!" roared Grandad. "When the hell did you find out about this project?"

"A month ago," I said in a small voice, casting my glance aside.

"Why did you wait until now to start?"

"Did you miss the part where I've been up day and night?" I asked, my tone laced with sarcasm.

"This has gone too far!" He slammed his hand down on the dining room table. "You need to organize yourself better or drop a damn class."

"We don't get any newspapers or magazines, and I need articles for Political Science."

"We don't have money for subscriptions."

"Then give me access to the Internet."

"Not this again!"

Tilting my head back, I exhaled a slow breath. "Look, Grandad. I know you're still mad at me because some boy gave me his email address, but that was a long time ago."

He huffed like an angry dragon.

"It's not like I was going out with him," I insisted. "Are you going to hold it against me until I'm thirty?"

"Maybe."

"The Web would make my research so much easier," I insisted. "It's not about flirting with guys. It's about finding all these magazines, newspapers, and everything in one place."

"Jeeeeess—"

"Ask Care's grandparents." I gestured towards their house. "They let her use it."

"Because she's responsible."

"And I'm not?" I cried. "Come on, I don't have time to flirt with guys. I barely have time to sleep."

"I think you should cancel one of your classes," he muttered. "You're pushing yourself too much. Yesterday you and Carm stayed up until two in the morning. It's too hard on her."

"I didn't ask her to stay up."

"You know her."

"If anything, it proves that using the Web would make my life easier."

He growled like a bear under his breath. With a concentrated scowl, he pondered it over his morning coffee.

"Let me think about it. I'll talk it over with your grandmother."

My heart expanded like a balloon over a tank of helium, and I squealed. "Oh, gosh! Really?"

"Hey, I didn't say yes. Just said I'd think about it."

That's a start.

"Your grandmother is going to have kittens," he muttered.

"Oh, yay! I always wanted a kitten."

He cast me a disparaging glare that melted into a half-smile. "I suppose you are almost eighteen. After that, you're legally responsible for yourself."

"Last time I checked, doing research on current affairs wasn't illegal."

"No lip, young lady."

"Sorry, Grandad. I was kidding."

It took a few days of deliberation and no small amount of arguing between them. It didn't look like Grandad would get his way...until a letter arrived in the mail. 

Written in Bryan's crazy scrawl. 

Oh, fuck! What shit has he made up about me this time?

My heart thudding against my ribs, I waited while Grandad scoured it over breakfast. With an aggravated huff, he handed it to Mom, whose shoulders slumped the further she read.

"Perfect boy indeed," he muttered.

"Dear Lord in heaven," she whispered under her breath. "Jess, dear. I can't believe it. All this time, and we couldn't have been more wrong about you."

"Whatever he said, it's a lie!" I cried. "I haven't done anything. I haven't had time to do anything. Ever. At all. He lies all the freaking time! He lied about Eric too. When are you going to trust me?"

Grandad and Mom exchanged knowing glances. 

"Well, it's a shame that Bryan always lies," said Grandad with a wry smile. "Because the little idiot admitted the whole Eric debacle was his fault. Not yours."

"What?" I exclaimed, wide-eyed. 

"Yeah, he felt guilty about you getting punished for his mistake," he growled. "So he admitted everything in this letter. Exaggerating the truth. Feeding Mom's concerns. Everything."

"He likes you, Jess." Mom jutted her chin. "But I can't say I'm too enamored of him right now. I have to say he deserves to be grounded for three months. He put us through hell."

And me! 

Finally some justice!

"Why would he do such a thing?" she mused under her breath. "He knows we like him! Why go to such effort to discredit this other young man?"

"Apparently, he wanted to protect her," said Grandad in a cynical tone as he pointed to the letter. "Infatuation makes people do crazy things. Teenagers are pretty damn stupid."

I crossed my arms. "Hey!"

"I don't mean you, Jess. It's the other kids I'm worried about."

"He's probably jealous." I set down my coffee mug with a bit too much effort. "Because I don't like him back."

Silence fell like a heavy pall over the breakfast table.

"So you had no intention of dating this Eric behind our back?" asked Mom in a suspicious voice. "He wasn't chasing you down the halls or leering at you during lunch?"

"No!"

"He didn't ask you to do things for money?"

"He asked me to tutor him," I said in a firm tone. "That's it."

"That's true, Carm," said Grandad.

Mom cleared her throat. "So he didn't touch you in any way? Or get any private or personal information on the Internet from you?"

"NO!" I insisted. "Eric was a gentleman the whole time. If anything, his shyness made others suspicious, but he always treated me with respect."

"So, you don't want the Internet to contact him again?"

Exhausted, I held my head in my hands. "God, I need the Internet to work, Mom."  

"Will the Internet help her to succeed at school?" Mom asked Grandad. 

"It certainly couldn't hurt," he replied before turning to me with a raised forefinger, "as long as you don't use it for any dating or chatting with strangers."

"I don't even chat with my friends anymore," I retorted.

"I'm serious, young lady!"

"So am I," I muttered under my breath. "Unfortunately."

"Speaking of which, you should take a weekend off and visit your friend Care," said Mom. "You've been neglecting that poor girl."

"I can do it during the holidays."

"Well, as long as you use the computer for school," conceded Mom, "I can't see why we can't get the Internet. As long as it isn't too expensive."

Jumping up from the chair, I gave Mom and Grandad a huge hug. "You won't regret it, I promise."

For once, Grandad and I got our way. 

We ordered America On-Line for a monthly flat fee of twenty bucks a month. Finally I could do all my research from home without driving everyone bonkers.

True to my word, I used it for finding articles and information on book availability, which made trips to libraries much quicker. I could print out a lot of my materials at home rather than copying it all for twenty-five cents per sheet. 

That alone paid for the subscription.

At first, Grandad eyed me like a hawk. Mom took regular trips downstairs to make sure I was keeping my end of the bargain. Officially she'd offer me another drink or a snack, but they peered at the monitor every time.

It helped me so much with ruling out colleges and finding out all the requirements. In the end, I applied to three schools: Holy Cross, Assumption College, and Fitchburg State.

It took three months for my grandparents to ease up on the surveillance. Every day came the same crap. Spying on me to make sure I wasn't committing the capital offense of chatting online. 

Perhaps they never would have gone easier on me if not for one terrible twist of fate.

Grandad got sick.

The inevitable reality of living with retired guardians meant that something could go wrong. It started with chest pain. Harmless angina that led to other tests, which revealed other problems. 

Then came the mini strokes. Organ failures cascaded like dominoes as Grandad began to fall apart.

His diabetes had caught up to him.

This is all my fault. All those trips to the diner and the ice cream parlor. If we hadn't done that, this might never have happened.

Shit! I'm an enabler.

Of course, I didn't cause this, but I couldn't help my naïve conscience. 

Soon their routine checks came to a complete stop. Still I toed the line even though I had ample opportunity to take advantage of my grandparents' lack of vigilance. Mostly because I had no time to think about anything other than school related activities rather than because of any virtue on my part.

Besides, Grandad worried me too much to revel in my newfound freedom. I dealt with my sorrow in the ever-so-healthy way of diving deep into my work so that I had no time to think. 

Every minute not spent on school, college applications, and extracurriculars was spent catching up on some much needed rest. I lost weight. Tons of it. Twenty pounds in one month. Not that I tried to lose weight. I simply didn't have the time or the inclination to eat very much.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Care me at lunch. "You look exhausted. You haven't eaten a thing."

I nodded while drilling vocabulary words under my breath. "I'm fine. Don't worry."

"Here, have some emergency chocolate!" She handed out a bag of M&Ms. "That always makes you feel better."

"Thanks, but I have to cram this into my brain before the next quiz."

Care sighed. "Jess, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but I'm getting worried about you. Don't you think you should drop a class?"

"Don't worry, I've got it."

"We haven't hung out in ages." She chuckled and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper that reminded me of Grandad. "Super Mario thinks you're cheating on him with Pac Man."

I laughed and put down my notebook with a sigh. "It's not you. Or Mario. He'll always be my first video game love."

"He'll be relieved to hear it," she said with a grin.

"You know how you just feel so tired?" I asked. "Like tired to your bones? Like your soul is just dying on the inside?"

She pursed her lips, and I changed tack.

"Well, it's not like that." I plastered a smile. "I'm sleeping like four hours a night."

Care gave me a wry smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She peered at me intently as she munched on chips. Studying me. Damn girl was too smart for her own good. Or my own good. Almost instantly I regretted almost revealing my true feelings.

What if she told her grandparents? And they told mine? 

I wouldn't hear the end of it, and they'd take away the Internet again.

"It'll just be a relief when all this is over," I said in full honesty. "When Grandad finally gets better and we graduate from high school, I can go off to college and put this behind me."

And this rat race can start all over again. And again for grad school. And again while working.

Oh, fuck! Kill me now.

"Won't it be great once you get into Holy Cross?" she asked, trying to lift my spirits. "Hey, you'll be able to see Eric again. And no one can stop you."

"Not a priority right now."

"Nooo, but it'll still be fun."

"Getting in isn't the tricky part," I said with an exhausted sigh. "It's the aid package."

She nodded. "Hey, wanna chat later? I got another email from guess whoooo!"

"Not allowed to chat for long," I said with a groan. "Not like I would have time anyway."

Her shoulders slumped. "Oh, Jess."

"Hmm?"

"I don't mean it in a mean way, but your grandparents need to chill out." She started getting a bit worked up, which gave me vicarious happiness. "If you never have fun, it's not healthy."

The bell rang, and I cursed. Mentally, I drilled the vocabulary words on my way to class, hoping it would suffice to ace the test.

Thankfully, it was.

Before I went home, I slammed my locker to find a sheepish Bryan in front of me. "Hey, Jess."

"Hey, Bryan."

"They say your Grandad got sick," he said, picking paint from the side of my locker. He cast me a shy glance. "I'm really sorry. About everything."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Thanks..."

"Can I help?" he asked. "Do you need a ride home? I can take you after practice."

"My bus is waiting," I replied, shaking my head. "Thanks, though."

"If you need to talk to someone..."

"You don't have to be nice just because you feel guilty," I said in a snippier tone than I'd intended before taking a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm really stressed. I'm grateful you told them the truth."

"Did it help?" he asked in a concerned tone, furrowing his brow.

I nodded. "I can finally have Internet again, and I think they're starting to trust me again."

In a distant voice, he almost spoke to himself. "Then it was worth it."

"Worth what?" I asked as the weight of his words hit me. It struck me that those bruises from the start of the season might not have been sports related after all. "What happened?"

He shook his head as though to wake himself from a reverie. "Nothing I didn't deserve," he said with a wistful smile.

My heart clenched. He sacrificed himself to set the record straight.

He shouldered his heavy gym bag with ease. "Take care, Jess."

"Wait!"

Walking down the hallway without another word, he met Jack, who cast me a wary glance. Bryan drew his teammate's attention away from me and clapped him on the back. 

Both of them ignored me as they headed toward the football field.