Take my heart

Chapter XIII

It's positively consuming him, now. And if someone knows how to spot guilt eating a person alive, that's his mother.

"Spit it out. Is it alcohol? Is it drugs? Did you crash your car? Commit a crime?"

Connor lifts his gaze from his homework and blinks owlishly at her.

"Excuse me?"

"You've been on the same page for the last thirty minutes, and I can tell you're suffering," his mother says, taking a seat in front of him.

"It's math," he explains.

She makes an impatient gesture.

"Baby, I did not get to where I am now in life by being anything less than abrasive. We can go around it all afternoon or you can tell me right now and be done with it. Mom will only send you to jail if it's warranted."

Jail?! "Oh my god!" Connor splutters. "It's nothing like that, are you insane? You raised me, shouldn't you have more faith in how I turned out?"

The lady shrugs. "Your father raised you too, and I have no faith in him."

Interesting use of words, but Connor rarely feels like laughing when it comes to his parents. He sighs, slumps back in the chair and studies his mother. She's clipped a side of her short hair behind her ear, and she's wearing a light blue shirt and black pants: elegant, maybe, but not enough to mean that she has to go out. Which, in tow, means she does have the rest of the afternoon to interrogate him.

"I didn't commit a crime," he clarifies, just in case.

His mother's expression doesn't change. "I'll believe it when I have the full story."

Frowning, Connor fiddles with his calculator, repeatedly turning it off and on. The thing is, his mom has a point: there is something going on that won't let him focus on school. He and Ali have agreed to meet tomorrow for coffee, and the dread that rises up in him when he thinks about it is embarrassing.

"I don't know what to do," he says. "I'm just... I thought... Okay, so I'm the dumbest person in the world, but I genuinely thought this would be the best solution."

It was supposed to be. He really did like Ali, the rest was supposed to come naturally, after hanging out every other day and holding her hand and kissing her. And sure, the whole thing only started because he found out Caesar had feelings for him, but that would pass, and then Connor could've fallen in love with her. Should have.

"Why is it not working? She's pretty and fun and she hates it when I flirt with her. She makes me take pictures of her and her food and it used to be boring but I've learned a lot about Instagram filters. Things are good. So why am I not falling in love with her?"

Silence stretches after his rant. The calculator reads Syntax Error for something Connor doesn't remember typing in. He doesn't dare look at his mother, mix of shame and fear of her answer keeping his eyes cast low.

"Honey. What on earth are you talking about?"

His shoulders sag and he feels tongue-tied, but his mom taught him about honesty before she taught him anything else, so he comes clean to her. It's not entirely unfamiliar. They had conversations like this whenever he broke a vase or got in a fight with his friends, even if this particular situation feels way more serious. Connor tells her everything from the texts to the terror of hurting Caesar to what he'd thought would be a solution and now the dread of hurting Ali.

"I can't keep doing this but I don't want to just... It was supposed to work!"

Connor looks up and finds more softness on her mother's face than he'd expected. He almost jumps when she reaches forward over the table and grabs one of his hands, making him put the calculator down.