^^^Listen While Reading^^^

Great song, chapter-themed.

~~~

I've decided to ignore my brain, as I walk down the quiet hallway of my house and stop in front of my mother's at-home office. Her meeting just ended, meaning she probably has some free time. Free time that I'm going to use up. But I'm not going to think like that.

I take a deep breath, and my mind starts to give me reasons why I shouldn't be doing this.

You're going to annoy her, Casey. She just finished her meeting. She doesn't care what you have to say, Casey, you're wasting your time. You're too emotional for this; she's going to state the obvious and you're going to leave crying. 

"Shut up," I mutter to myself. Closing my eyes and taking another breath, I knock on the door. 

"Yes?" comes my mother's muffled voice.

"It's me, Casey," I say. Your daughter.

There is a brief pause of silence before she responds. "What do you need?"

"Nothing. I just want to talk."

Silence again, then, "Okay, come in."

I open the door. She's sitting at the desk on the opposite side of the small room, a big window above her. She is typing on her computer with her back to me, an email tab open on the screen.

"Mom?" I say cautiously.

"Hm?" she says, still typing.

"Do you still feel . . . burdened by me?" I ask.

"Hm?"

"Am I still holding you back?" I say.

"Hm?" she says for a third time. "Give me a minute."

I blink, annoyed that she isn't even listening. "Forget it," I mumble. I start to turn around, ready to walk out, but I stop. It took a great deal of courage to come here in the first place. I shouldn't waste it because she's acting exactly how I expected her to.

"Mom, please listen to me."

She stops typing and looks at me. She looks tired and impatient, and I suddenly feel bad for taking her away from her work.

Now her full attention is on me, and I'm scared I'll mess it up. "I was just wondering if you still see me as an inconvenience," I say.

She blinks. "What?"

I hear the front door open and close, but I ignore it. It's probably my grandmother.

"I—" I start.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" she asks, squinting a little.

I blink, taken aback. "No?" 

"Okay, good."

I stare at her, then shake my head. I take a deep breath. "I know you had this big plan of what you wanted to do with your life ever since you were a kid, and that when you got pregnant with me, it just ruined everything. I didn't understand it then, but I understand it now. I made everything harder for you," I say.

Mom just looks at me.

"And I'm sorry for that. But I'm older now, and I can take care of myself. So I'm wondering if you might, I don't know, see that, and maybe you'll want to be a part of my life?"

Mom stares at me, glances at the door behind me, and looks at me again. "I'm not sure I understand what you're—"

I sigh, and I can feel my shoulders slump. Then suddenly, the door behind me opens. It's my grandmother.

My mom's eyes narrow at the person behind me. "Mom," she says bitterly. Then she looks from me to her. "What is going on here?"

"I couldn't help but overhear the conversation," she says.

My mom's eyes remain narrowed as she stares at Grandma. "What is happening?"

Grandma briefly touches my back as she steps inside and stands next to me. "What's happening," she says, "Is that your daughter is begging for your love, and you aren't giving it to her."

Mom blinks again, glances at me, and returns her gaze to Grandma, glaring a little. "What gives you the right to tell me how to parent my own daughter?"

Grandma looks at the floor. 

I butt in. "Maybe the fact that she spends more time with me in a day than you ever did my whole life."

Mom still looks like she feels she's being attacked, and Grandma speaks. "Maria. I know I wasn't the best mom, and I'm sorry. But you can't change the past, Maria. Your daughter needs you."

Mom stares at her. Her eyes are wider than usual, and for the first time, I see genuine emotion in them. She looks at me, then at Grandma, then at me again. Suddenly, she slowly rises from the office chair. 

I look at Grandma. Mom takes a step toward me, looking . . . scared? 

"Casey . . ." she says, looking at me.

"Yeah?" I say nervously.

She looks at Grandma again, then at me, her eyes filling with tears. I stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. "I'm—I'm sorry."

I still don't know what to do. This is my mom, apologizing to me. I look at her. 

"It—It's okay," I say.

I've never seen her look this . . . weak. She continues standing there, tears in her eyes, just looking at me. I step forward and hug her.

She hesitates, then slowly rests her hands on my back. It's light, and I tighten my grip and hug her tighter. I feel her tears on my shoulder, but I don't pull away. Grandma stands awkwardly nearby, and I wave her over to join the bear hug.

Later, when we've all calmed down, Mom speaks. "I'll just . . . I'll just turn this off," she says, gesturing to her computer. 

She does, and turns to me. "I'm really sorry, Casey. Words can't even explain how horrible of a mother I am. I—"

"It's okay, mom. Let's not apologize anymore," I say.

She nods once. "Okay. Yeah." She sounds a bit estranged. "Is—is there anything I can do?"

"I mean, you could start by asking me about myself," I say.

"Okay," Mom says, nodding slowly. "Um, how—how are you? How's Leah?"

I give her a weak smile. She's trying. "Good. Leah's fine, and she has a boyfriend now, who she's in love with."

"That's . . . cool. Do you have a, um, boyfriend?"

"Um," I say, glancing at Grandma across the room, who is watching us with her arms folded and a slight smile on her face. "No, I—I like girls."

Mom blinks, a little confused, and Grandma chimes in. "Casey's a queer."

I laugh a little. "Yeah."

Mom blinks again, looking from Grandma to me. "Oh," she says. Her eyes begin to shine again and she pulls me into another hug. "I'm so sorry. I've missed so much."

When we pull away, Mom's phone buzzes. She looks at her pocket. "Oh, I have another meeting in a couple minutes," she says, looking at me. "But I can cancel it."

I shake my head. "No, no, it's okay," I say. "I have a . . . friend coming over soon." 

"Leah?"

"No," I say. "Someone else."

"Can I . . . meet this friend?" she asks.

I scratch the back of my neck. "Maybe later."

"Okay."

Mom returns to the office, and Grandma hugs me around the shoulders. "I'm so proud of you, Casey."

I look at her. "You are?"

She nods. "You've grown quite a bit this year."

She enters the guest room, which is undoubtedly her room now, and I stand in the living room. I guess I'm just waiting for Hazel to come.

I decide to make popcorn while waiting. The doorbell rings twenty minutes later, and I quickly turn off the stove and race to the door.

"Hey," Hazel smiles when I open the door. She has a tote bag around her shoulder, and her hair is in a low bun, with two curly pieces sticking out of the front. She looks so beautiful.

"Hey," I say, stepping aside to let her in. 

"Mmm," she says, lifting her chin to smell the air. "Smells like popcorn."

I grin. "That's because I made popcorn," I say. "Wanna watch a movie?"

Hazel looks at me. "Sure."

We pick a random movie, and I bring the bowl of popcorn to the couch. But about thirty minutes into the movie, Hazel leans in to whisper in my ear. 

"Do you have anything to tell me?"

My brows furrow. "No," I whisper back.

"Are you sure?"

I tap a finger on my chin. "Well, maybe one thing," I say. Hazel raises her eyebrows. "I talked to my mom."

Hazel looks at me, and even in the dim lighting, I can see a wide smile spread across her face.

"Why are you smiling at me?" I ask, raising a brow. 

"I'm just so proud of you," she says. "You talked to your mom!"

I smile softly, looking down at my hand. "Yeah."

"And how'd it go?"

I shrug, returning my eyes to hers. "I think it's safe to say it went better than I thought it would."

She smiles warmly. "That's amazing." I don't know why she's in such a good mood. 

After the movie ends, I turn to Hazel. "Are you real?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"And you like me?"

"Yes?" she repeats, studying my face with slightly squinted eyes.

"Hm," is all I say.

Hazel moves closer and traces a finger along my jawline. "I don't know why you think you're so unlikeable," she remarks, her voice low.

I look up at her as her wavy strands brush over my neck and shoulder. "I don't know either," I mumble, distracted by the proximity.

She smiles and kisses my cheek, and her hair leaves my shoulder as she turns away. The warmth from her lips replaces any trace of coldness left in my body. "I think I have to go. Evan wanted me to help him with something."

I frown at her. "No. Stay."

She looks at me and then looks away, biting her lip. "I don't know . . ." she trails off. "He's going to be pretty annoyed."

"Screw Evan," I say, looking at her. "Why is he so important?"

"I don't know," she repeats. "He's not."

I look at her, eyebrows raised as I lean back on the couch. "And what if I want you to stay here with me?"

Hazel looks away again, thinking. "Point taken."

"So? What's it gonna be?"

A small smile quirks at the corner of Hazel's lips and she chuckles. "You're right. Evan can wait."

I grin, leaning forward for another quick kiss. Hazel sticks her tongue into her cheek and just looks at me.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing," she says. She puts her warm hand on the side of my face, and her lips meet mine.

She shifts closer to me, and I guess talking to my mother earlier gave me some extra courage. I rest a hand on her upper leg as I kiss her, and when she shifts closer again, I pull her onto me. She breaks the kiss and looks at me, lips parted and cheeks pink. Both her knees are on either side of me, and most of her weight is on my waist.

"Sorry," I mutter nervously as I notice our compromising position.

She shakes her head slightly, her gaze soft, but somehow intense. "No, I . . ." she says. But she changes her mind and returns her hands to my face, capturing my lips with hers. 

I hesitantly rest my hands on her legs as my lips move against hers. She's sitting on my lap, and I'm fucking loving it. 

After a couple more kisses, she pulls away again. I watch her, my heartbeat nonexistent as she gently places a hand on my stomach. "God, Casey . . ." she breathes.

"What?" I say, worried I did something wrong.

Her eyes snap up to mine, and her already pink cheeks become more vibrant. "N—nothing," she says. "You're just . . . jacked."

I stare at her for a long moment before bursting out laughing. 

She looks at me and blinks, before slipping off me and getting up. 

"Hey, where are you going?" I ask as she turns and walks away from the couch. I stand up as well and follow her to the kitchen counter, where she picks up her bag.

"I don't know why you're laughing at me," she states, reaching inside the bag.

"I'm just surprised you're only noticing now," I say.

"Hm," she hums, putting the bag over her shoulder. "Anyway, I really have to leave now."

"Okay," I say, sighing and running a hand through my hair. 

I walk her to the door, and she turns around and looks at me. I offer her a smile and she rolls her eyes, her cheeks becoming pink again. Holding the door open for her, she steps outside.

"Do I at least get a goodbye kiss?" I ask.

Hazel stops, turns, and stands in front of me. "Do you deserve one?"

"Are you really that mad at me?"

"Hm. Maybe." She shrugs with one shoulder. "Kinda." But she's smiling. 

I just look at her, and in one swift movement, she pecks me on the lips, turns on her heel, and disappears. I'm left standing on my front porch, butterflies in my stomach, staring at nothing while smiling like an idiot.

A/N:

American football should be called American rugby.

D O N T   F O R G E T   T O   V O T E !

<3