My Summer of Firsts

Chapter 7 - Change of Plans

Yanking another shirt over my head, I threw it down with a frustrated groan. If I didn't hurry, I was going to be late to meet Elian. It had to be getting close to seven.

Mom poked her head through the crack in my bedroom door. "What are you doing?" She watched me as I tossed shirts out of my closet, adding to the ever-growing pile on the bed.

I whirled around to face the pile of rejects, placing my hands on my hips. "I hate all my clothes."

She pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Since when?"

"Since I have absolutely nothing to wear."

She sat on the edge of the bed and swept a hand over the mass of discarded shirts on my bed. "And what would you call this?"

"Nothing decent, I mean." I rubbed my hands over my hair, which was still damp from my shower. "I own too many damn graphic t-shirts. I'm a grown ass man for chrissakes."

Mom furrowed her brows. She raised her chin and sniffed the air. Her blue eyes, exactly like mine, stared at me. "Are you wearing cologne?"

I crossed my arms over my chest as a sudden wave of self-doubt swept over me. "Is it too much? Should I wash it off?"

I shook my head and headed for the door.

Mom jumped up and put her hands on my chest to stop me. "What's going on, Stevie?" she asked again, only this time she seemed more concerned. "I've never seen you act like this."

I chewed on my lip, contemplating whether I should tell her. I didn't want a rehash of my conversation with Mr. Meeks yesterday. Perhaps if I modified my delivery, I could avoid another misunderstanding. "There's a new guy in town and he asked me out."

Her mouth fell open. She sucked in a breath before squealing in delight and throwing her arms around my neck. "That's amazing, honey."

I pulled away and grabbed a random shirt to put on, in case she tried to hug me again. "It would be if I had something nice to wear."

She looked me over. "The shirt you're wearing looks great on you. The blue brings out your eyes." She brushed her hand across my cheek.

I turned to the mirror over the dresser to examine myself. I guess it worked. The fit was snug, stretching tight across my chest, but I did like the color. Not only did it match my eyes, it matched my sky blue nails. Maybe that was too matchy-matchy.

I was just about to take it off when my phone alarm blared out the sounds of a herd of charging elephants. I set the alarm, so I'd know when I had to leave. It seemed this shirt would have to do.

I stuffed my wallet and phone into my pockets before leaving my bedroom. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge to remedy my dry mouth and took a swig.

When I spun around, Mom stood right behind me. I jumped and squeezed the bottle, sending a spurt of water shooting out. "Jesus!"

"Are you going to tell me about this boy?" Mom's eyes slowly widened, her face open and inquisitive.

"I have to go." I took another gulp of water and handed her the bottle. "I'll tell you about him later."

"At least tell me if he's cute."

We never talked much about boys. Not like this, anyway. It was usually more abstract. She'd point out a guy in a movie, or she'd tell me someone looked good and ask my opinion.

I paused at the front door, turning to face her. "He's more than cute." My face flushed just thinking about him.

Mom beamed with unconcealed joy. Her eyes grew glassy, like she might burst into tears any second.