Travel // Shawn Mendes

twenty-nine

"Coming!"

Jen and I were currently standing in front of my house, waiting for one of parents to open the door. We had just finished a two-hour drive to get here from Time Square, and the only thing on both of our minds was my mother's homemade cookies.

A tan woman with curly black hair opens the door, gasping loudly when she sees us.

"Mija!" She exclaims, wrapping me in a hug before moving on to her nonbiological daughter.

"How was the flight? Did you bring your suitcases? I hope you haven't forgotten anything, Nora," she rambles, inviting us in and shutting the door behind us.

"I didn't, Mom. And our suitcases are already in the hotel room."

"Ay, why didn't you girls just stay here with me? Less money," she points out, and Jen answers for me.

"The hotel is close to the place we rented out for my show, and you already know that I'm going to find a way to be late to rehearsal," she says it like it's common knowledge, which to us, it is.

"Someone should strap a clock on your head, Jen."

"Nora's tried before," she replies.

True, but that was in seventh grade.

We walk into the kitchen, and like always Jen and I sit on the kitchen island at the same time, only for my mom told scold us both the second after.

"Nora, your dad's at work so he won't be home until six. How long will you be here for?"

"Uh, seven? I want to stay for dinner," I respond, and my mother shakes her head.

"No, you want to stay for my cookies," upon noticing my sheepish grin towards Jen, Mom scoffs. "Do I look that stupid? I raised you your whole life, you know."

"I'm here for you, Mama Carter. The cookies are just a bonus," Jen throws in, her face as innocent as ever.

"I raised you too, Jen," my mom warns, and Jen looks down at the floor instead of making eye contact with her.

"And if you want my cookies, you're going to help make them. Come on. Vámonos," she starts clapping her hands as we both get aprons, knowing this would get messy.

As Jen and I start pulling out the ingredients, my mom begins to question Jen on how everything has been going so far. Because she hadn't seen her nonbiological daughter since we left, and she had just spoken to me last night on a call, I thought it was fair.

"So, how were the boys in Canada?" Mom playfully asks, and Jen shrugs before looking at me.

Don't you dare-

"You should ask Nora all about Canadian boys."

My mom laughs at what she thought was a joke. "Nora wasn't the one who went to Canada, how would she kn-" finally it clicks to her what Jen was implying, and she gasps loudly, almost dropping the cup of flour in her hand.

"Nora! What's that supposed to mean?!" She was shocked. Not that the idea that I could be dating somebody, but at the fact that I didn't tell her.

Okay, I love my mom. But explaining everything to her plus the fact that this was all Shawn freaking Mendes would be a lot to handle.

But I share absolutely everything with my mom, so it was no wonder she was questioning some things.

Before I have a chance to explain anything, Mom sets the cup filled with flour on the kitchen island, reaches to the floor to grab her flip flop, and throws it at me.

She misses, but I know that she would throw every shoe in this house and even take off my own just to hit me.

"Mama! Listen! Ow! Por favor!" I took in the second shoe, knowing that if I blocked it I would go into a coma.

"Okay," she says, going to wash her hands and then drying them with a paper towel, "now explain to me who this Canadian is. And go get me my chanclas."

As I walk into the family room to grab her flip flops, I mouth a little "fuck you" to Jen, and she blows a kiss in response.

I wasn't mad that I would now have to tell my mom about Shawn. It was kind of shocking that I hadn't already told her. But I knew that my mom would now think that there was actually something going on between Shawn and I, and that we were going to get married and adopt twenty-five birds together.

"So," I start, placing her shoes on the ground and going to wash my hands again so I could help with the cookies.

"So," my mom replies.

"So!" Jen kicks in.

"Where do we start?" I ask Jen, and immediately my mom gasps, dropping the vanilla extract on the kitchen island and reaching for her shoe again, this time hitting Jen.

"Ow! Whyy?!" Jen whines, as if my mom has actually hit her that hard.

"You knew and you never told me!"

"I told you now!"

"It didnt just happen now!"

They begin to argue as my mom washes her hands once again and makes Jen go get her flip flop.

"Okay, start," she tells us, ready.

"So, it started in Spain," Jen says, a wide smile on her face.

"Like all good things do," my mom smiles, then asking Jen to pass her the milk.

Jen goes through the whole story, only letting me speak when I had to fill in a gap that Jen wasn't sure about. My mom listening intently as we all rolled the dough into small balls, putting them on trays evenly spread apart.

Once story time was over, my mom shook her head.

"Nora, I can't believe you didn't tell me this. But Jen, I'm also disappointed in you. You can't tell me the boy's real name? I don't want this 'Shawn Mendes' code name. This is not James Bond!" My mom scolds, and Jen looks at me.

"His name is Shawn Mendes."

"So he just happens to have the same name as the singer?" She says, disbelieving.

"Mama, he is the singer," I tell her.

"Ay, and I'm married to Enrique Iglesias," she announces.

"She could always prove it," Jen inputs, and I look at her as if she was crazy.

How am I supposed to prove that I know Shawn Mendes?

Suddenly, it hits me. Shawn was coming to New York tonight, and would be here tomorrow.

"Oh, yes. Nora, bring him to this house and I'll make you these cookies every day until the day I die," she exaggerates, placing one of the trays into the oven.

"We better go to the store then and get you all the ingredients you need to start baking."

DOUBLE UPDATE IN HONOR OF THAT DOUBLE DROP OF SINGLES

IN MY BLOOD OR LOST IN JAPAN??? IM A HO FOR BOTH NGL