Last To Know

12

The next day passed slowly.

Oh, so, slowly.

In fact, it wasn't even over yet.

Darkness was only just now beginning to settle in the sky.

Maddox hadn't called or texted me at all today, which was unusual. I figured he was busy, and that was fine. I wasn't his girlfriend. He didn't owe me an explanation, but I hated how lost I felt without him. It wasn't normal. You shouldn't have such intense feelings for someone you just met, but I did, and I couldn't stop them. I was beginning to think I didn't want to stop them.

I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, blocking out the sight of my bedroom ceiling above me. I wished this simple act alone could erase the foreign feelings invading my body, but I knew nothing could do that.

I rolled over, clutching my pillow to my chest.

Sadie had been busy today—she went into the city with her mom—and unable to distract me from my thoughts that were consumed by Maddox.

"Emmie?"

I startled and looked over to find my mom standing in the doorway—two cups of hot tea clutched in her hands.

"Are you okay?" She asked, stepping inside and sitting down on my bed. "You look like you don't feel good. Do you think you're sick?"

Yes, I was sick if Love-Sick-Fool counted.

"I'm fine, mom," I forced a smile, "I'm just really tired."

Her lips thinned as she looked at me, almost like she didn't believe me.

"Well, drink this and if you are coming down with something it will help."

She held the cup out to me and I took it. Once the cup was in my hand hers flitted out to touch my forehead.

"You don't feel warm," she mused.

"See?" I quirked a brow. "Just tired."

She sighed and looked up at a poster taped to my wall—one of a Broadway show, no boy bands for me.

"Is this about Maddox?" She asked, her gaze falling to me. "Did something happen between you two? He didn't hurt you, did he? I swear to God, if he hurt you—"

"No, mom," I laughed, smiling for the first time that day. "I'm just being a typical surly teenager. Don't worry about me, please," I begged, reaching out to grasp her hand.

She sighed heavily, like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. "I'm your mother, Emma. I worry. I will always worry about you."

I set my cup of tea on the table beside my bed. I reached forward and wrapped my arms around her. "I know that, mom, but I promise there's nothing to worry about right now."

"Okay," she sighed, running her fingers through my tangled hair. "How about we order something to eat and have a movie night? Sound good?" She asked, pulling away.

"It sounds great," I smiled.

"Good." She stood up and headed for the door. "Oh, and Emma?"

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Brush your hair."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, mom."

She smiled and disappeared down the hall. I brushed my hair like she asked, but didn't bother to change out of my sweats and tank top. After all, she hadn't said anything about that and I wanted to be a bum today.