Dragging Emily away.

"Mooooom!" Emily groaned as her mother pushed her along the halls of the convention hall. "C'mon, what're you doing? Those guys are my friends!"

Camilla scowled. "That's a lie, young lady," she said. "They didn't even have your phone number. Besides, they're so obviously not your type." She went red in the face. "Of friends!" she added at the last second. "Don't lie to me. I wasn't born yesterday."

Her daughter scowled and stamped one high-heeled foot. "This sucks," she said. "I thought we came to the convention to have fun and meet new people. Why are you saying that I can't hang out with new people all of a sudden?" Emily crossed her arms, confronting Camilla once again with the fact that her daughter's breasts were very nearly spilling out of her tight leather top. There was a reason those boys had been interested in talking to her, of course, and it wasn't her cosplay skills.

Camilla didn't really have an answer for Emily's question. She knew the question was insincere, but that didn't mean that Emily was entirely wrong, either. But she wouldn't be putting up with her daughter running around with some high school boys all weekend when this was supposed to be mother-daughter time, so she was **** to bust out a classic parenting line that never failed to drive children absolutely crazy. "Because I said so!" Camilla spat, feeling herself heating up. She couldn't believe that she was so angry, and it wasn't even noon yet. This was going to be a long day, she could already tell.