Emerson Castell loves facts.
Enjoying the how and why of everything, she never fails to let her obsession seep into every aspect of her life, including her relationships - or lack thereof.
Leo Caruso is no stranger to a busy social life, but after...
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It was the weekend before Valentine's Day.
In the short seventeen years I'd spent on Earth, it was the first sappy holiday where I actually had someone to think about.
But when I'd wished I had someone to think about in the years before, I didn't think it would entail a lecture from my mom.
"Emerson, could we talk for a bit?" It was early Sunday morning, around eight o'clock. My dad and brothers were still asleep upstairs, and truthfully, the only reason I was awake was because I had barely slept.
Apparently, my insomnia wasn't as "cured" as I thought it was, but I wondered when I'd finally admit I had a very real problem to do something about it. Is that what she wants to talk to me about? Maybe it won't be such a bad thing...
"Yeah, sure," I replied, mid coffee-pour. I held the steaming hot mug in both of my freezing hands and walked to the kitchen table. I pulled out the chair across from her halfway, sitting down gingerly as her stare wouldn't move from my direction.
My mom intimidated me and felt like my best friend at the same time.
"Maybe this is quite fitting, given that Valentine's Day is this Tuesday," she began, putting down her mug that read "Number 1 Mom." It was a cheesy gift I had bought her with my allowance money in fifth grade. "I wanted to talk to you about Leo."
"Leo?" My once heavy eyelids widened, and I traced my finger around the rim of my cup in nervousness. "Is there a problem...?"
She began to shake her head at first before stopping and pursing her lips. It got so quiet I felt like I could hear my dad's snores from upstairs. "It's not so much a problem."
"I didn't do something, did I?" She huffed, narrowing her hazel eyes at me behind her black reading glasses.
"Em, if you did something bad, I would've already smacked you." I couldn't help but burst out a chuckle at that, and she hid a smile as she brought her mug to her lips. Swallowing, she continued, "I just really want to know how you feel about him. I reacted harshly a couple months when you asked to go to his house to work on a project, but I now realize we've never talked about him."
"You want to know how I feel about him?" I repeated, as if I didn't hear what she had just said perfectly. I scrutinized the question, wondering what direction she was trying to lead the conversation into. "I, um... I like him."
"That's it?" She raised a dark eyebrow. "Emerson, I know more than you think. You have snuck out to go to his house more times than I ever imagined possible from you. You're also on your phone constantly, and you can't bullshit me this time by saying it's school-related readings. And I know you got caught kissing in the library the other day."
My jaw dropped. "Who told you?"
"Shocking as it is to believe, Max was in the library at the same time." I bit the inside of my cheek. That snake. "Now, I don't want you to misunderstand me. I'm not coming from a place of anger or judgment. I just can't be this oblivious to my teenage daughter's feelings."
