"Then, Tyrone grabbed the pizza box and started screaming," the woman laughed, a large smile brightening her pale skin. She had short black hair, dark eyes framed with laugh lines and a face that reflected years of pain and joy.
Armani laid out plates on the dining table as she listened to her talk. "You spoil him too much, ma," she said. "He will never wanna leave the house at this rate."
"Aigoo," she called, bringing in a tray filled with side dishes and a plate of cookies for dessert. "He's just 12. He has time."
Armani snuck out a cookie and stuffed it in her mouth. "I was just 12 when I made my first 100 dollars, ma. You told me you wouldn't let me sleep in until I earned something good."
Her mother slapped her hand when she saw her sneaking for another cookie. "That was on you. I didn't even think you'd actually do it. Imagine my surprise when my little baby pulled out a piggy bank with a 100 dollars."
"Legal money," Armani replied.
"I'm not believing that."
"Ma," she laughed. "I sold my lunch for two weeks and all my saved up money from red pockets from uncle Sun went into that. It was legal."
Her mother pursed her lips. "Doesn't matter. You ended up spending the money on candy anyway."
Armani headed to the stairs and stood at the base. She cupped her hand around her mouth before screaming out a loud "dinner is ready."
The rumbling of footsteps filled the air, feeling her heart with a strange gladness as well. Her siblings rushed in, a crowd of children who looked nothing alike.
Her parents were a Korean woman and a Nigerian man. They couldn't have any children so they decided to adopt and enjoy the joys of parenthood with children who weren't lucky enough to get it. Six children. Armani, a black American and the oldest child. Georgia, a Spanish child and the first to be adopted. She was seventeen and the smartest of the bunch. Louis and Lois were the youngest, seven year old and Caucasian. Tyrone was another black child and Adeline was a Japanese little girl of 11.
It was a bustling family and stuck out like a sore thumb in every occasion and every party but they loved each other and Armani couldn't think of any other family she would choose than them.
The dinner was simple but the table was rowdy and loud with everyone talking, laughing and eating. The filling sensation in Armani's heart increased and she stared at her home with a smile on her face. This was the one place she could do whatever she wanted without any weird stares or backtalks. The anxiety didn't grip her legs and her throat didn't give up on her. Here, she felt alive and safe. She would never give this up for the world.
Dinner was over and it was time to leave again. Her mother held her bag, waiting while she hugged her siblings and kissed her father on the cheek. They went out together, walking side by side on the way to the train station.
"You could just go back tomorrow," her mother muttered, tightening her grip on her daughter's bag.
Armani smiled, stuffing her hands into her knitted sweater pockets. "I have classes tomorrow."
"Can't you miss a few?"
"You're quite the mother, suggesting that to me."
She sighed again, swinging the bag slightly. They walked in silence, each enjoying the others’ company.
"How's school?" She asked, biting the inside of her lips when her daughter flinched. "Made any friends yet?"
"...no."
"Why not?"
"Just been busy. I don't have time for that."
She knew she was lying. "Even a relationship? Are you interested in anyone yet?"
Armani paused to think, her thoughts flashing back to Blaze. She went silent, not ready to choose exactly what it was she felt for that odd, beautiful lady that had been stuck in her head rent free. She felt around in her pocket, feeling the card from that day still there.
She hadn't had the mind to text her yet, swimming in thoughts of anxiety and wondering if Blaze actually wanted her to text her. What if the card was just a formality? She would be making a fool of herself.
She let out a sigh, piquing her mother's worry. "Not exactly, no."
Her mother went silent too.
They got to the station in a few minutes and Armani stood by the train tracks. Her mother hugged her, wrapping her arms around her as tight as she could. Armani was torn between staying with her family for one night before heading back to her lonely days and quiet nights in her apartment. She couldn't do that. Her parents would worry if she seemed the least bit uninterested in school.
"Mom," she called, pulling the ends of her sweater. "There's this girl-"
"Girl? You like her?" She asked quickly. Her ears seemed to have lifted in the air, gathering any information her daughter would spare about her life.
Armani paused for a bit. "I think so."
"Does she like you back?"
Did she? "I don't know."
"Then what are you overthinking?" She laughed. "The first step is to find out if she likes you. Everything else falls later. Including a possible romance."
The announcement for the train rang out.
Armani frowned, a sudden realization hitting her. "I never said I was into women."
"I know," she handed her bag back and started walking away, waving at her. "You never needed to. See you later, Amy."
Armani stood there watching her mother walk away.
She knew she was a homosexual.
No, the question was how long had she known? She would never find out. Her mother was never gonna stop surprising her.

YOU ARE READING
Fell with you
RomanceArmani Ani is the whole package: black, lesbian and laced with social anxiety. She's also a college student, trying to stay afloat in the corners of the school halls and surviving by staying hidden. Things don't stay that way when a random girl bar...