Bobby jumped up from the couch, and ran to his room. He flung clothes from the closet to the bed, and began to sort through his drawers for things he wanted to take, while Annette remained seated on the couch, staring at her mother in disbelief. "You can‟t be serious. What about Chris?" Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. Any second now, Karen thought, the tears will spill out in a great torrent of pain. "Maybe he can come along." She knew it was out of the question. How many mothers would allow their seventeen-year-old sons to go traipsing around the country with their girlfriend, and her hussy mother, to follow some rock star on a tour? Certainly none in the little rural village where they lived. "Either that, or he will just have to wait for you until we get home. Think of it as a long, summer vacation." Karen sat down on the couch next to her daughter and put her arm around the slim shoulders, only to be shrugged off. "Come on Annette, how many kids get to go on a two-month summer vacation?" "Don‟t you mean how many kid‟s moms go running off with some guy they don‟t even know and follow him all over the country?" An evil look dispelled all the tears. "Chris‟ mom was disgusted." Throwing up her arms, Annette walked out of the room and slammed the door behind her. "I‟m old enough to stay home myself," she added, and the door to her room shook the house, as it slammed shut.