Three empty wrappers on the floor. Sheets a total mess. Both of us on my bed the wrong way, feet pointing at the headboard. Our eyes on the ceiling as we catch our breaths.
“Thirsty,” he murmurs.
“Me too.”
“Should we—?”
“I’ve got you, just stay put.” I pat his sweaty chest, press one more kiss to his lips, then slide off the bed.
It’s almost 3 AM, so I figure I’m safe to hop downstairs in just a pair of shorts. I head to the kitchen, grab a couple bottles of water from the fridge, then make my way back.
I make it to the foot of the stairs before the gentle clacking of slippers from behind startles me. I turn to find my mom in a blue silk robe under the archway leading into the study. “Mom,” I blurt out, sounding both offended and surprised somehow.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” she chuckles sleepily.
Her hair’s a mess. Her eyes, dark and puffy. “Couldn’t sleep?” I ask. The bottles hang from between my fingertips by their plastic necks as I hug myself awkwardly, feeling naked despite the shorts. “What’re you still doing up, Mom?”
“Too much running through my mind. You know how it is. I … I just came to check something down here, something your father left on the …” She waves the back of her hand at the study behind her. “Whatever, I couldn’t find it, it’s no big deal.”
“Uh, alright.” I nod slowly, decide there’s nothing left of this conversation, then mutter, “Well, goodnight,” and turn to go.
“TJ,” she says, stopping me before I’ve made it even one step. “I was wondering … um …”
I half turn back to her, trying to be patient. “Yeah?”
“I was just …” She also crosses her arms, a mirror image of me, just without water bottles. “I was noticing so many things lately. About you. Your summer seems … so …”
A squirrel is racing around inside my shirt. Except I’ve got no shirt on. It’s the same squirrel that stole my Cheetos. Yes, I’m still holding a grudge. “Austin’s waiting,” I remind her, squirming out of this exchange, panicking, then start up the stairs again.
“Austin and you just sort of happened?”
I stop again.
“Your summer seems so lively,” she then says. “That’s what I was going to say. Especially these past few weeks. Booking these last-minute flights to see your Jason Holt concerts …”
“Chase Holt.”
“Right, Chase, yes, that’s what I meant.” She shuffles her feet. “I’m just … I’m very happy that you’ve … that it seems like you’ve found someone who … makes you slouch less.”
Huh? I turn around. “Slouch less?”
“It’s just a thing I noticed. Every summer. When we have our big parties. Too many people over. Or another event outside in the pavilion. You’re always … fading in the back a bit.”
“You think I’m fading?” I can’t believethisis what I’ve decided to take offense to. “What doesthatmean?”
“You step aside for everyone else. You fade into the back. Youslouch.” She comes up a step, perching an elbow up on the banister of the stairs. “But lately … particularly with Austin … you …don’t.”
I sigh. “Mom, if you have a point, can you please arrive at it? It’s late, and I just came down to get some water, and—”
“I see the way you look at him.”
My eyes are on the wall. I can’t look at her. “Okay,” I mumble.
“And I see the way he looks at you. The way he treats you. He and you just sort of … happened, you said? I kept thinking of that. The way you worded it.” She hangs her head suddenly.“Please put me out of my misery. I’ve been sitting on this for years now. Your father and I both.”
Then suddenly I’m looking at her.
Right at her.