Little Miss Nosy

Chapter Eleven: Together, but Alone

-Edited-

"What's got you so happy?" Mom asks. She comes out of the kitchen holding an ice cream sandwich between a paper towel. Her eyes flicker between me, my phone, and the Hulu logo bouncing around the screen from me not touching the television in a while. "Is that Carmen?"

I sigh. Whenever mom sees me on my phone she assumes I'm texting Carmen. She never throws out another name; not that I can blame her. It's not like she has a lot of names to pick out of my small social circle.

"No. I do have other friends, you know."

"Oh, right." Ouch. "So who's got you smiling around the house more lately?"

Mom takes a seat next to me, pulling her legs in and tucking her feet beneath her. She looks cozy wearing an oversized sweater with the name of her college printed in the center and a messy bun tied atop her head.

She's completely unfazed as she asks these questions. What I've been up to for the past few months completely going over her head.

"My boyfriend—Logan Peters," I say, resisting the urge to smile as her features contort in utter shock.

"My, my. I haven't heard that boy's name in forever. I thought you hated him."

"That was Carmen," I laugh, lightening up a little as this girls chat reminds me of how I used to come to her with everything before.

I start to recite the entire story—Logan reaching out to me through socials, his apology, our secret rendezvous' and even how we stepped out as a couple for the first time two weeks ago, but stop midway through as I realize mom is only partially listening.

My pauses are met with 'mhm' and 'oh,' not quite the enthusiastic reaction I expected to my story time. Mom's eyes are glued to the television, flipping through the recommended section now with full control of the remote.

Whatever.

I stop talking before I get to the good parts—the football and movie night—and go back to my phone, scooting all the way to the end of the couch to relax together, but alone. Just like we've grown used to.

I continue smiling at my phone like the lovestruck teenager I am, sending Logan a meme of a cartoon panda bear holding a meat cleaver in response to his seal holding a steak knife. I swear we were once texting about something important, but it somehow turned into a meme war.

Mom has no luck finding something good to stream so turns to cable, flicking through the channels every five seconds or so.

"A new wave of criminal activity, or old faces returning to further terrorize the county? That's what officers are trying to figure out after they followed a lead to a location they believed would end in a drug bust, but instead found nothing but an abandoned building." My attention snaps to the television. A woman wearing a red blazer and holding a microphone stands in front of what I'm assuming is said building. Multiple officers and police dogs scour the area in a frenzy. Whatever happened must be new and urgent.

The newswoman continues, "It's been concluded the perpetrators knew law enforcement were closing in, and sent in a false lead to throw off the investigation. It's too early to know for sure, but the crime pattern seems to match that of similar gang activity this county faced several years ago. The main suspect being Jacob Ad-"

The screen goes black. Mom holds the remote with one hand frozen yet shaky in midair as her other holds a now melted ice cream sandwich. A wave of uncomfortable silence washes across the living room; neither one of us wanting to talk or even breathe too loud in fear of breaking it.