Just as I Begin to Fade

Sixteen. Hidden Feelings

Later that evening, after Derek had finished eating he went to see Gwen in her bedroom, just to chat with her but he eventually had to leave as his father needed his help at the garage.

Even later, Stevie finally found the courage to go to her daughter's room in order to talk with her.

Knocking lightly among the door, she gently pushed it right after and she peeked inside, just to see the girl typing away on her computer.

"Whatcha doing?" she asked sweetly.

"Working on the newspaper... Deadline's coming up. What do you need?" she wondered casually.

"Just to talk if you're up for it," she wandered in and she stood with one hand on her hip.

The teen looked up and stared at her for a moment.

As the petite blonde stood before her, she was wearing a long black skirt to which was gathered on one side, causing the hem to come up to her knee on one side while the other draped at her ankle. She wore black ballet tights as they never seemed to rip or run and she wore black suede boots that were six inches tall. She wore a black, long sleeved blouse with a black shawl over that. Her makeup was simple and her hair was straight though tossed and laying pretty. But overall, the woman was consumed by jewelry; silver earrings, cuffs and bangles on her wrists, giant stone rings mixed with dainty ones on her fingers and a long necklace on her neck with a few shorter ones.

Every time she looked at her mother, she saw the most beautiful woman ever; a hero to many, a woman with the voice of a siren. She just didn't understand how she had so many problems.

"So..." she stepped forward and she plopped on the edge of the bed, "I've gathered you're angry..." she semi smiled, taking one of her hands between her own. "Are you upset that I spoke to Lindsey?"

"A little, yes," she nodded.

"Well, this is what I wanted to ask you, now that Derek's not here. Do you like him?"

"Who?"

"Lindsey, of course."

"Uhm, yeah, he's a cool guy. Who wouldn't?" she shrugged.

"Ugh, I'm so relieved!" she laid down fully and sprawled the top portion of her body out while crossing one leg over the other.

"About?"

"Honey, you could have just told me you had a crush on him, it would have made this so much easier," she reached out to pat the girl's knee.

"A crush-- No, mom, no! I don't like him like that," she explained.

"It's okay if you do, I'm definitely not one to judge. You're old enough to make your own decisions and I support you."

"Okay, mom, Lindsey is like thirty. I am sixteen," she adressed.

"So? Sonny was twenty-eight when he met Cher and she was sixteen," she displayed a reality.

"Even if that was the case, how could you condone something like that?" she wondered. "You're thirty-five. Wouldn't you have an issue with me dating a man your age?"

"No..." she shrugged. "Would you be upset if I dated like twenty year old?" she wondered.

"Yes, I would be."

The blonde then rolled her eyes. "Well, you just said you liked him. I thought you were getting territorial about my talking to him because you liked him."

"I do, mother, but as a teacher. As a mentor. Dare I say, as a father-figure. I do not see the man in any other way, I have a boyfriend already."

"So?"