Heat - Harry Styles

six

I opened my front door slowly, attempting to go undetected by my mother. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to her, it was just that I'd had far too much to drink and I didn't want to explain to her why I was coming home drunk.

As I stepped onto the staircase there was a slight creak. I scrunched up my face and held my breath, waiting to see if my cover had been blown by my misstep. A few moments passed and I let out a silent sigh of relief. Just as I went to take another step the strap of my bag slipped off my shoulder, causing my notebook to fall to the floor with a loud thud.

"Sloane, dear, is that you?" I heard my mother call from the kitchen.

I closed my eyes in frustration before answering. "Yes, ma'am."

"Come in here and talk to me for a minute," she requested. "I haven't seen you in ages."

When I walked into the kitchen I was greeted by my mother's smiling face. She was a good bit shorter than me, but her personality certainly made up for what she lacked in stature. Her blonde hair was cut in a sleek bob that hit just above her shoulders and a few strands fell from behind her left ear as she rolled dough out across the granite countertop. She was a beautiful woman, and I couldn't help but admire her ability to maintain her youthful appearance despite her age.

"Hi, mom," I greeted her. I quickly took a seat on the barstool across from her, ensuring I wouldn't drunkenly stumble during our conversation.

"How was your day, bee?" She asked in her sweet southern accent.

"It was good... uneventful," I lied. I felt terrible lying to my mother, but I just knew she'd have a million questions if I told her about Harry. I also knew that she would never in a million years approve of him – not with the tattoos and music.

"Hmm," she hummed as she began cutting circles out of the freshly made dough. "I've been running all over hell's half-acre trying to get everything done for this charity gala. You'd think that charitable people would be easy to work with, but no..."

Honestly, I zoned out after that. My mother's charity gala didn't really interest me, and my drunken mind was ready to sleep. I could feel my eyes drooping when my mother's words brought me back to attention.

"How funny is it that I ran into him at the grocery store! He's just gotten back to Charleston after his first year of law school. He is so well mannered, that child. He helped me pack up my car and everything. He asked about you, you know. I would just love it if the two of you hit it off."

"Mom," I groaned with a roll of my eyes.

"He's a Harvard man, sweetheart. I'm sure the two of you would have plenty to talk about."

"Who are we talking about again?"

"Spencer Pinckney."

"Mom," I scoffed, "you can't be serious!"

"You know Gale's son?" she asked with a confused expression on her face.

"Of course! We went to middle school together. He was in the grade above me before he went off to boarding school. He was an absolute nightmare! That boy thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow."

I shook my head in remembrance of all of Spencer antics. He was always making someone mad whether it was a student or a teacher. I hadn't seen him in years, but I certainly had no desire to see him again.

"Sloane, that was middle school. I think you're being ridiculous," she laughed. "Anyway," she continued, "I gave him your telephone number. He said he would text you sometime tonight to make plans for dinner."

"MOM!" I yelled in disbelief.

"One dinner is all I'm asking for, honeybee. He's a wonderful young man and I'm sure he's changed so much since the last time you saw him. Of course, I'm not going to force you to go, but it would be kind of you to humor your mother."