hazza

🎶Eight🎶

      "Lovie, who is this 'hazza' person and why are they in your emails?" came the suspicious voice of her mother.

      Lovie's eyes opened quickly. She had been sleeping. Her heart rate picked up and she tried as calmly as possible to meet the intent gaze of her mother.

      "Say what?" she said. She figured that was the safest thing to say.

      "I came in here to see if you were awake and your phone lit up— "

      "You've been snooping on my phone?" Lovie cried. "Mom!"

       "So you are talking to someone on this writing app, whatever it's called," her mother said.

      "It's called Wattpad," Lovie said.

      "I don't care what it's called," her mother said, planting her hands on her hips. "You better start answering my questions, young lady."

* * *

"Huh," George said, taking a break from his guitar to look at his phone. That was strange. It had been at least twelve hours and Lovie still hadn't replied to his message. Maybe she had something going on. It was Saturday, after all.

      "What are you 'huh-ing' about?" Paul asked, looking up from his guitar. He and John were sitting across from each other. They did that because it was like looking into a mirror, Paul being left-handed and John being right.

      "Lovie hasn't replied," George said.

      "It's the end of the world!" John yelled loud enough for Mimi to hear from outside. It was only a few more moments later before Mimi came in from pulling weeds in her flower garden and told John to be quiet.

      "Maybe she decided that you were as much of a drag as she thought," John teased once Mary had gone back outside.

      "Lovie doesn't think that," George objected.

      "How do you know?" John asked.

      "I just . . . know," George said, not being able to think of anything witty to say back.

      "Why aren't you saying anything, Paul?" John asked, turning to his friend, who was currently ignoring them both.

      "Because hearing you two banter isn't worth my attention," Paul said, playing a few notes of the guitar.

      "Oh!" John said, doing the full body jerk in his chair. "Paul McSassy!"

      "Shut up."

      "I think it's fitting, don't you, Geo?" John said, putting his hand on his chin and looking at George.

      "Yeah, fits you perfectly, Paul," George said with a crooked grin.

      Paul shot him a glare.

* * *

"Please, mom, don't ban me," Lovie begged as her parents went through all the messages that she and George had sent to each other. "He's the best thing that's ever happened to me!"

      "You don't even know him!" her mom objected.

      "But I love him!" Lovie blurted.

      Her dad snorted.

      "You don't understand!" she said, tears welling in her eyes. "He's sweet and he's kind and he's funny."

      "He could be a fifty-year-old pervert," her mom said, still scrolling through messages.