The Watermelon Project

Chapter Two

"How was the photoshoot with Ryan?" My mom looks sideways at me for a moment before directing her eyes back to the road.

"It wasn't really a photoshoot," I say as I rifle through my backpack for the thousandth time. I know that I put my laptop and my ID and my calculator in there, but I still have to check. Again.

"I thought that was the whole reason you drove over to that ritzy neighborhood."

"Yeah, well...you know Ryan." I zip my bag back up, convinced (for the moment) that I have everything I need.

"Oh. Well, I was hoping that she would have taken some photos of you so you could update your profile pictures."

I turn my head and look at my mom, my eyebrows scrunched. "Why do you care what my profile pictures look like? Besides...I like my profile pictures."

"Well," she starts, not looking over at me this time, "you're just so beautiful. And those goofy pictures of you and Ryan don't really show that."

Ugh. Here we go again.

"Mom, I don't think my Instagram profile picture is the reason I'm single."

"That's not what I was —"

"Mom. Yes it was. You think that I'm going to be forever alone. But what if I'm happy being single? What if I don't want a boyfriend? Also, what if it's not my fault no one has asked me out? I do hang out with guys at school. I'm not a complete recluse. I'm just not their type."

"Honey, that's really not what I was saying," she sighs, and I roll my eyes. "But I know that you don't want to be single forever. I mean come on, who wants that? And I don't think you're doing enough. Go join a coed intramural sport or something. You used to play volleyball. Go put yourself out there. Hang out with more guys, your odds will be greater."

"Unbelievable," I say, annunciating every syllable of the word.

"What? I just want you to be happy!" My mom's voice does that thing where it rises in pitch when I call her out.

"Like you and Dad?" I cross my arms.

Mom shakes her head. "We've gone over this a million times. I do not regret my relationship with your father in any way shape or form. I would do it over again. We loved each other. We changed each other. We grew together, and then we realized that we had grown apart. It happens. It's life. That's not a reason to avoid giving it a try."

I don't respond. I know this. I'm not scared of relationships. Everyone's parents get divorced. It happens. As my mom said, that's life. I just don't want to settle. And I'm also too awkward to initiate anything myself. And, I have a weird, twisted notion (probably due to my borderline unhealthy obsession with fairytales) that when I meet my guy and start my first actual relationship that that's going to be it. He's going to be the one. Princesses don't date a bunch of princes before they find happily ever after. No, they find the one. Albeit in some dramatic, overly romantic way. But maybe that's what I am. Or maybe I'm just completely unrealistic. But why can't I dream? Isn't that what they tell us to do? Chase our dreams? Don't give up on them? Follow our hearts?

"Want me to drop you off in front of the science center again?" my mom asks, breaking the moody silence I created.

"Yes, that's fine. Ryan's going to pick me up after my last class today. It's alright if she stays for dinner?"

"Of course. But are you ever going to invite any of your Hodgins friends over?"

I take a deep breath. "Maybe, Mom. I don't know. Thanks for the ride." I hop out of the car before she can say anything else. I want to be dramatic and slam the door before storming away, but I can't because I have to check my seat and make sure I'm not forgetting anything.