redamancy // l.h au

twenty-two

"So, he's your boyfriend?" Mom asks, sitting across the table from me. I'd visit home almost every other day, just like how she told me to. This time, I showed up unexpected. With everything that happened with Luke, I was out of my mind, and I needed her advice. 

"No, Mom." I groan, placing my head in my hands. 

"God, you kids are so oblivious!" She throws her hands in the air, leaning back in her wooden chair. When I'd arrived, she suggested we sit in the dining room, which had more privacy. I mean, it's not like my brother would pause Call of Duty to listen to my disastrous soap opera, but she liked taking precautions. 

I sat, silently, for a few moments, watching her giggle to herself. Jesus. "An elaboration would be nice, Mom." 

She waves her hand at me, "He's in love with you, darling." 

My eyes widen, and something inside me snaps. I burst into a fit of laughter, clutching my stomach for support, and Mom looks at me as if I'm the one with the screw loose. "No, no, Mom, no--" 

She heaves a sigh, "Rhea, honestly? He can't sleep, can't eat, can't stop thinking about you? What do you think that is?" 

"Diarrhea?" I laugh to myself, but she doesn't seem to get the joke. Tough crowd. 

She rolls her eyes, reaching across the table to take my hands in hers. "Can you ever be serious?" I shake my head, and she smiles, "You feel the same, too, don't you?" 

I take in a deep breath, "I don't know, Mom. I'm seventeen. The only love I know is the one I read in books." I close my eyes, and hold onto her hands tighter, "I can't be angry with him, and I feel like I shouldn't be. I know him, and I trust him. And, for the first time, I don't feel foolish about giving him a chance." 

Mom smiles, "This Lindy girl? Is she the roadblock?" 

"She was," I laugh, but it's humorless. "but I can't spend my days worrying about her, right?"

"And, you trust him." She says, to which I nod. "Now, Rhea, what's left? What do you need to figure out?" 

"My feelings." I groan, placing my head into my hands once more. Without a word, Mom rises from her chair and walks over to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders like a security blanket. 

"Thanks for my therapy session, Ma." I laugh, and I can feel her smile. I close my eyes, and hug her tightly. 

"The first one is free of charge."

                                                                 ___________________

Shelving books in a bookstore would seem to be the easiest job; you're given a list of each novel with their genre and author, which you had to sort out all across the store. 

Well, yeah, it's a hell of a workout. 

The following day, I'd been called in to work for an "emergency under-staffing" issue, and it turned out that one of the old hags that Charlotte hired ditched out for Waffle Day at the senior center. 

Sam, being the treacherous eel that he was, had somehow wiggled his way out of it, yet he still showed up as a customer just to mock me. The traitor doesn't even read. 

I sat, cross-legged, in the teen romance section, staring wide eyed at the Cassandra Clare books with anguish. "Her books are paranormal romance," I complain, "why is it labelled as teen romance?" 

Sam, who was pretending to browse across the aisle, scoffed, "You know, you're the reason why we don't get invited to parties." 

"Me?" I gasp, dramatically, to which Sam rolls his eyes. "Your red shorts say otherwise." He subconsciously grabs onto the fabric of his ruby-colored slacks, and I smile. Rhea-1, Sam-0.