Chrissy Schrute leaned back on the school bus seat and rubbed her forehead. She had a slight headache, something that usually occurred after doing battle with her mom, and today's was no different.

Her mom had this scrutinizing Look that still scared Chrissy just a teeny bit, even though she had been standing up to her mother since she could pretty much stand up. The Look was so intense that even Chrissy's dad was kind of scared of it, and he never showed fear. Chrissy admired the Look's power, and was trying to harness it for herself. She could already make her two youngest sisters do almost anything with it, though her middle sisters Eddy and Ally weren't afraid of it anymore.

Chrissy yawned; she had been up late last night in a heated discussion with her mother. She had been subjected to lectures on the proper behaviors of young ladies many times before, but this was the most major thing to happen to cause a talk. She hadn't even gotten in this much trouble for shooting paintballs at the neighbors' house. Her dad had gotten plenty mad and scowled, but all he had said was "You must only use your power for good, Chriselda," and her mom had talked to her about how young ladies shouldn't behave that way.  This talk had been worse, and all she had dared to do was go out with a boy.  

After Patrick had waved goodbye last night, Chrissy's parents had turned to face Ms. Merrin again. "Since all you can promise is that my child will not have to sit near that boy, I expect that it will be so from now on," said her dad, glaring at Ms. Merrin, who sighed.

"Definitely, Mr. Schrute. Chrissy can stay there and I'll switch Patrick with someone else," she said.

Chrissy's dad looked around. He pointed to the seat farthest across the room from Chrissy's desk. "How about that one? I want him at that one," he said. 

"Ooh, yeah, switch Patrick with Chase Wilder, he's a dreeeamboat," said Chrissy happily. Her dad had glared at her, and she had felt her mother's pincers on her shoulder. She knew she'd be in even more trouble, but it was so much fun to milk it for all it was worth.

"Where does a nice, quiet female sit on that side of the room?" asked Chrissy's mom, unpursing her lips for the first time in a few moments.

Ms. Merrin had smiled in resignation again. "I'll have Patrick switch with Greta first thing in the morning," she said, and Chrissy's parents had nodded in approval.

Chrissy didn't mind, though she didn't show it. Greta was one of her friends, and now Chrissy and Patrick could write notes in the new code they had invented. Chrissy had a hidden copy of The DaVinci Code and The DaVinci Code II in her room, and she had been excited to learn that Patrick liked secret codes as well.

After Chrissy's dad made Ms. Merrin swear on her attendance book that Chrissy and Patrick would not sit together again, Chrissy felt the pincers on her shoulder again as her mother led her from the classroom. 

The van ride home was silent on Chrissy's part; her sisters had all clamored to know what was going on, but their mother had made them sing instead. Chrissy had refused to open her mouth, so the famous Little Singing Schrute Sisters five-part harmony sounded weaker without her strong alto. All her mom would say was "You girls have a show coming up this weekend at the retirement home in Berwick, so you'd better rehearse."

When they had pulled up into the long driveway, past the barns and Uncle Mose's dugout, Chrissy's dad had stopped the van and they all got out.

"Dwight, will you get the children off to bed?" asked Chrissy's mom.  Her dad had nodded. Usually, this would be occasion for him to bow and say something like, "Anything for my fair lady," but he didn't say anything like that last night. He had merely nodded and turned to herd the littler girls into the house.

Chrissy had started to sidle away, but her dad turned to her.
"Chriselda, please know that we are merely concerned with your virtue. You're our daughter, and we don't want you to become a victim of tainted love."

"You mean like the song?" Chrissy had asked.

Her dad had sighed. "No, not like the song," he said, and for the first time ever, Chrissy had heard him sound tired. Then Mattie had crawled up his torso, saying "Carry me, Daddy!" and he headed toward the house, saying “All right, my little spider monkey."

Chrissy had been left alone with her mother, who simply said, "March," and she followed Chrissy all the way up to the third floor to her bedroom.

Once inside, her mom closed the bedroom door and had turned to face Chrissy. "Young lady, I would like to know why you felt the need to deceive me and your father by consorting with a young man?" she'd said, and Chrissy frowned.

"I knew you'd be angry, so I didn't want to tell you," she replied simply, and her mother's frown lines got even deeper.

"Isn't the fact that we would get angry indicative that what you were doing was wrong?" asked her mother, folding her arms across her chest. Chrissy had felt privately that if her mom could breathe fire, she'd be in for a heck of a time.

"Well, I don't think it was wrong," said Chrissy defiantly, "I like Patrick and we're boyfriend and girlfriend."

She had nearly added 'so there', which might have worked on her sisters, but would cause her mother to explode.

"You are much too young to date, young lady, and I won't have you be corrupted by a boy!" said her mom angrily.

"Why am I too young? I like him best, he likes me best, and we like lots of the same things. We want to be boyfriend and girlfriend," replied Chrissy.  Her mom pursed her lips.

"You are at an impressionable age, and I don't want you to do anything inappropriate; boys like to bewitch girls into thinking they're in love!" said her mom angrily.

"Ew, Mom, no. I haven't even kissed any boy on the lips, that's kind of gross," said Chrissy, wincing, "I don't want to get strep throat or anything like that. Dad says ninety eight percent of germs are transmitted through saliva."

Her mom had nodded, muttering what sounded like, "Good one, Dwight" and still frowning added, "We're only forbidding you to talk to or even look at this boy because we care about you. Besides, we knew his parents and his father and yours never got along very well." 

"So we're the Montagues and the Capulets of Scranton?" asked Chrissy, flopping onto her bed and turning away from her mother.

"Don't drag Shakespeare into this, and turn around when I'm talking to you, missy," said her mom severely.

"It's Chrissy, not Missy," singsonged Chrissy. She'd known she was in trouble, and so what was another week or month of punishment? She was tired. She wanted to go to bed, and maybe dream about building an airplane with Patrick and flying over Hershey Park or Disney World.

"Chriselda Martine, watch your mouth. You're adding another week to your grounding, it's up to a month now. Keep it up, and it'll be two months," said her mom angrily. "You're not behaving like the young lady I know you are."

"You didn't want young ladies, you wanted boys, that's why you named us Chris and Ed and Al and Gerry and Matt," said Chrissy sulkily.

Her mom had rolled her eyes. "Now you're being completely ridiculous and you know it. You know I love my girls more than anything."

Chrissy sat up. "I know," she said grumpily," I just want you to trust me. Nothing bad is going to happen."

Her mom sat on the edge of the bed gingerly. "I- just want you to be comfortable talking to me about- things," she said stiffly.

Chrissy had blushed and looked down. She did not want to get into any embarrassing conversations if she could help it. "Of course I will, you're my mom," she mumbled.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and her dad had entered gingerly.  "Chriselda, I take it your mother has expressed our disapproval in your actions and has forbidden you to act inappropriately at school," he'd said stiffly. "No hanky-panky."

"She did," Chrissy replied glumly.

"Very well, then, no harm done, though harm might be done if that boy tries anything with my little girl," said her dad, crossing the room and holding Chrissy's face in his hands. "Goodnight, my little chickadee," he said, kissing her on the forehead.

" 'Night, Dad," she said, and he crossed back to the door before turning once more. "If it's male friendship you want, perhaps we could arrange a play date with Mickey or Levi Scott," he offered, and Chrissy had been horrified.

"Dad, no, please don't make me! Mickey smells like pee and cries all the time and Levi keeps talking about how he has a girlfriend in Canada, and I don't think she's real!" cried Chrissy.

As her dad shrugged and left the room, she could have sworn her mom said "Good girl."

"Three weeks," said her mom, and Chrissy had thought she was hearing things. "You're still grounded for three weeks, but I still want you to behave appropriately at school. That means no touching or kissing."

"Of course I will. Besides, didn't Dad first kiss you at work?" Chrissy wasn't able to resist asking.

"We were much older than you," said her mom, but it seemed as though something had melted a bit.

She leaned over and drew Chrissy to her. It was nice to hug her mom, Chrissy had thought, even if she was still kind of mad at her.

"Goodnight, baby," said her mother, kissing the top of her head.

"Good night, Mama," said Chrissy, feeling little again as her mom left the room.

She got into her pajamas and climbed into bed as she heard her mom, still in the hallway, say, "Really, Lord? Five girls?"

And now it was the next morning, and the bus was lumbering into the school driveway. Chrissy shook herself out of her reverie and looked through the window, searching out Patrick. She spotted him across the playground, and remembered the way he had gallantly defended her yesterday, saying, "I never kissed her!"

She touched a spot on her cheek, remembering what had happened two days ago on the playground. He was a good liar, she thought.