It was already dark when I walked down the stairs, ready to go. The older girls were coming to pick me up in their truck in about ten minutes. Putting on my shoes I called: “Mom! Mom! I can go somewhere with some friends...” “B-but-mom n-not c-hom-e. S-she aaaa... I-I went to-work.” Looking over my shoulder, I saw Zoey standing in the kitchen doorway with a cup of hot coffee. Slinging my bag over my shoulder I said, “Okay then, I'm going with some friends to Sandmarve Cliff. You know, by the creek? I'll probably be back tomorrow morning.” Zoey's eyes widened for some reason. Opening his mouth he stammered, “Nn-no-o, yes, cc-no. Y-you-didn't-ask-for-mom” I frowned, irritated. “Well, I'm going and you can't stop me.” A strong hand grabbed my upper arm as I turned to leave. “Ss-stop! I s-say yy-yy ca-cc-no!” Abruptly, I pulled my arm away. Harshly, I retorted, “And I said, you can't stop me!” His fingers frantically returned and gripped my shoulder. With furrowed eyebrows, he asked aloud, “S-stay hh-here! I-ssssssss-you say