Mom sighs. “I get that. I’m just worried.”
“You’re always worried,” I tell her.
“You are my daughter, it is my job to worry about you.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about me this weekend. I will be completely safe. I don’t even know if we’ll go anywhere. Hunter hasn’t told me, but I’m figuring we’ll stay in all weekend.”
Mom cringes. “See, when you say things like that, it just makes me think...”
“Don’t say it.”
“Just make sure you’re safe. I know you’re on birth control now, but you can’t really rely on that for a few more days.”
“I already told Hunter he had to be more careful this time. He bought condoms. I will not come home any more pregnant at the end of the weekend than I am right now.”
“Which—God willing—is not pregnant at all.”
I hold up my crossed fingers to show her. “Doing all I can here.”
Mom cracks a smile. “In all seriousness, though, you have never spent a whole weekend away from me before. I’m going to miss you.”
I look up at her. “I’ll miss you, too. But, like I said, I won’t be far. And I promise to text you pictures and updates if you want me to.”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I want you to.”
“Then I will,” I assure her.
A moment passes more comfortably with that out of the way.
“I know you said he hasn’t given you all the details yet, but do you know anything you guys will be doing this weekend?” Mom asks.
“I know that tonight he’s making me dinner.”
“Ooh, nice.”
I smile. “I don’t know what he’s making, but I’m eager to see.”
“What time are you going over? Not until later, right?”
“He said to be there at six.”
Mom’s brow furrows a bit. “Isn’t there a game tonight? I thought he was on the football team.”
Oh, shoot.
I hesitate before answering, unsure what to say.
There is a game, but Hunter and Sherlock were both suspended for a game after they got into that fight at practice.
I don’t want to lie to her, but if I tell the truth about that, it could undo all the progress I have made revising her opinion about him. I can’t very well convince her that Hunter is some nice, harmless, great guy if I tell her that he got in trouble for fighting with a friend at football practice.
Unless...
I could, if I threw Sherlock under the bus.
Even though he’s a jerk, I’m hesitant to do that.
Hunter is the one I need my mom to like, though.
Her opinion about Sherlock doesn’t matter. She’ll never even meet him.
“Okay, I’m going to tell you something, but don’t freak out.”
“Oh, boy.”
“Promise,” I demand. “No freaking out, no storming the PTO, no trying to find out who his mother is so you can get him in trouble. This is not a big deal and I don’t want you to make it one.”
Mom frowns. “I already know Hunter’s mom.”
I sigh. “It’s not about Hunter. Remember that guy I went to the party with?”
Mom’s face goes completely still. “Yes.”
“Well, he was a little pushy.”
Her eyes widen, glinting with rising horror, but she keeps her tone even. “Pushy how?”
“Nothing happened,” I assure her. “Not really. But he kind of cornered me at the party and kissed me, and I didn’t want him to.”
She loses a shade of color.
“That’s it, it was just a kiss. It wasn’t a big deal at all, but Hunter saw him do it, and... I told him not to make a big deal about it, Sherlock left right after, but Hunter... he didn’t want to let it go. So, when they were at football practice together after that, Hunter confronted him about it, and... they got in a little bit of a fight. Coach was pissed, so he suspended them both for a game. Hunter is not violent, I don’t want you to think that, he was...” I roll my eyes. “It sounds stupid, but he thought he was defending my honor.”
“It doesn’t sound stupid,” she says, still looking slightly shell-shocked. “I know I haven’t always gone easy on the kid, but I’m hardly going to hold it against him that he was protective of my daughter when some little jerk was pushing himself on her.”
This revisionist history doesn’t settle well. It gnaws at me a bit, but it’s close enough to the truth that it only feels like half a lie.
I know my mom, though. It’s not in her nature to let something like this go unless she’s sure the offending party has been adequately punished—and even then she doesn’t really let it go, she’ll just stop actively pursuing it.
She went to bat for Hunter when she didn’t even like him. I’m her daughter.
“I know it wasn’t exactly gentlemanly behavior on Sherlock’s part, but Hunter already split his lip and Coach suspended him for a game, so... it’s over, okay? We’re all gonna let it go and move on. No real harm done.”
“This time,” she says, confirming my doubts. “Guys like that… the more you let them get away with, the more it convinces them they’re untouchable.”
“He didn’t get away with anything,” I tell her. “He behaved a little badly and was duly chastised. The end.”
“How pushy was he?” she questions.
“It was literally just a kiss.”
“You said he cornered you.”
I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I tell her, since I’m not confident in my ability to simultaneously protect both Hunter and Sherlock if I keep talking.
“Did he try to do more than kiss you?”
“No,” I say adamantly.
Mom watches me closely, a slight frown on her face. “You’re being really defensive about this, Riley.”
I should stop talking because I know she’s right.
Instead, what bursts out of me is, “I’m sick of everyone giving him shit about it. It was just a kiss. It didn’t even mean anything.”
Mom blinks at me, understandably thrown.
I huff, feeling mildly self-conscious about my outburst.
I don’t know what to say, though. It’s the truth.
I didn’t hate Sherlock. I still don’t. If I’d never met Hunter, I may have even welcomed his kiss.
No, I didn’t want him to kiss me that night, but I don’t want Hunter to be mean to him over it, either. Maybe I should feel flattered that he’s jealous over me, but I’m actually starting to get a bit pissed.
He was with Valerie and I didn’t go after her. Hell, I passed up opportunities to be mean to that girl, and she’s an asshole.
Sherlock was just looking out for Hunter. He didn’t really have bad intentions.
Hunter doesn’t need to go after his own friend over one little kiss. He needs to get a grip. Everyone needs to get a grip.
When I look back at my mom, her expression is wary, but guarded. That wasn’t how I intended to get out of this conversation, but I can tell it’s over. She won’t pursue this any further. Not right now, at least.