Complete Chocoholic – Thank you so much! I'm glad that the transition from not knowing anything to knowing relatively everything worked. I was honestly a little worried that some people would be bothered that I didn't dig deeper into the history of Aces. Thanks for the faithful review! (:
BreeTico – Thanks! The Stantons are pretty awesome. You'll learn a lot about his siblings in the upcoming chapter. They all sort of have different personalities, so arguments are bound to ensue. (:
The Significance Series belongs to Shelly Crane.
7: Mother Knows Best
Derek's entire family looked alike. I mean, I didn't think it was really that possible, but apparently it was. Only the ones that had married into the family looked different. They all had dark hair in varying shades of brown or black, and the majority of them either had brown or green eyes. They were all fairly tall, the guys built and strong-looking and the girls lanky and willowy. All of the men were handsome. Even now, I could see that Derek's grandpa Barry had been a looker back in his day. I still marveled over it as I sat down at the table.
The family was so big that only the ones that were Derek's parents' ages and older could sit at the dining room table. The rest of us, including Derek's siblings, had to sit at card tables that had been set up in the living room, the coffee table pushed to the side. There were a handful of people that sat outside on a covered patio where an outdoor kitchen had been built next to a small rectangular pool with a diving board on one end. I could tell that the wind was blowing – we were in the windy city, after all – but it looked peaceful out there.
Derek and I had opted to sit inside. I figured that was where I would feel more comfortable, since the outside was mainly cousins and aunts and uncles. A few of them were in the house with us, but the dining room was run by Derek's parents and grandparents. All that really mattered, I guess, was that Derek was close by to field any questions coming my way. Derek seemed to be answering the majority of questions directed at me, which I was sort of embarrassed of (because I could answer them myself) but I was also thankful for. I was nervous enough as it was, so it was nice that he just stepped in without a word and took care of me.
Derek and I ended up at a table with his two younger siblings, since my significant was very literally the middle child out of five. Jack and Madison were nineteen and fifteen, respectively. Derek was twenty-one, only two years older than me (though I had the feeling my mom would still be on guard over the age gap.) His older brother Zach was twenty-two, and his sister Carissa was a little over the regular imprint age at twenty-five. Even though Derek wasn't the oldest, he was the first to imprint in the Stanton family since the imprints started coming back. I was honestly a little scared that Zach and Carissa would've been mad that they didn't imprint before their brother, but they both seemed pleased that we had found each other. Either way, I felt a little better sitting with Jack and Madison, who looked a little awestruck over the entire thing and definitely a little less intimidating.
The whiteboard sat next to my plate on the table. Derek had laid it there before we sat down, and it had been there ever since. He was the only one that spoke to me, and it was mostly through his smiles and the way he looked at me. When he did speak, I assumed that he was just mouthing the words because Jack and Madison didn't look up from their meals whenever he went to get my attention. I picked through my lunch even though I was starving since I didn't eat any breakfast. I was pretty sure that it was just my nerves being strung out and twisted around. Derek's family was warm and welcoming and very kind, and they hadn't looked at me like I wasn't perfect for him like he said I was. They had just given me sad smiles, like they were sorry I had to deal with my deafness, but didn't think anything less of me for it. And I found that I really did like them, even though they made me nervous.
I finished my food before Derek did. He looked at me as if he was asking permission to eat the rest of mine, and I pushed my plate over to him. A huge smile crossed his face as he picked up my plate and set it on top of his. Madison and Jack cackled in laughter. Jack took the board and wrote to me, in a sloppy writing so slanted it was hard to read, that Derek was the one expected to eat the most and was often teased and told to get in the back of the line to get food since he was bound to clear out a few dishes. I laughed, and it was apparently loud because the people sitting at the neighboring tables paused to look at me, smiles on their faces.
When Derek finished my plate, he stood up and took both of ours in one hand, reaching for my hand before stepping away towards the kitchen. Obviously, he thought that I could handle a few moments with his family alone. It was scary but comforting at the same time. The moment Derek was out of the room, though, Jack and Madison looked up from their plates and looked slyly at each other before settling on me. Madison lunged for the whiteboard, stealing it away from Jack. She picked up the cloth napkin (yes, cloth. I nearly had an aneurysm when I saw it. What happened to paper napkins?) that was spread across her lap and deftly wiped off Jack's message to me.
Madison was the baby of the family, and not just of Derek's immediate family but his entire family. It seemed like his dad was one of the youngest, which meant that he and his wife, Victoria, were the last to imprint in their family before their special rite, as they had called it, had faded away. And she sort of looked like the baby of the family. Instead of the black that I had already associated with the majority of the Stantons, Madison's frizzy ringlets were dark brown in color, almost like dark chocolate. She was pretty already, but she would be absolutely beautiful when she was older and of imprint age. And I could already tell that she was slightly spoiled, a princess in the household. As she wrote, I was aware of the fact that she had her tongue sticking out slightly, as if she was focusing extremely hard on whatever she was writing down.
After a minute – Jack had tried to tease her by reading over her shoulder and, when that failed, had resorted to trying to wipe away parts of letters – she turned the board over to me. Ignoring Jack who was, in all honesty, a little immature for our age group, I picked up the board to read it. Madison's handwriting was bubbly, like her peppy princess personality had bled into the letters themselves.
I want to know what it felt like. The actual imprint and all that attraction and stuff. Was it romantic? I stared down at the note, wondering why it had taken her so long to write it. But of course, in the corners of the board were black flowers and hearts, as if she thought that it would help to take the time to draw a few little doodles.
I cleared my throat and leaned back in my seat, trying to think of what to say. Didn't she already know what it felt like? She could have just asked her parents, or any of her aunts and uncles. They had all felt exactly what I had felt. So why was I so special? Besides, Derek had already recounted our brief story (apparently, imprinting over a five dollar bill and a three dollar package of guitar picks was absolutely hilarious) so why did she need to hear it again? But I guess you could just chalk it up to the fact that she was dying to know. She had grown up thinking that the imprints might be extinct by time she reached the right age, but she had hoped that she would imprint anyway. It was, as Robert had told me, the very meaning of being an Ace. Without imprinting there was no ascension. Without ascensions, there were no abilities. And without abilities, Aces ceased to exist.
I tried to gather up the story in my mind and make it a little less cheesy for her. She was really depending on this story, obviously, and I didn't want to disappoint her. But I was saved from having to answer her when Derek returned from the kitchen, holding another water bottle for me. He twisted the cap off, and though it barely took any muscle, I captured the moment in my mind and rewound the tiny flex of muscle that he gave to open it. Ridiculous, boy-crazy, but totally worth it. Was that a cocked eyebrow he gave me? Don't tell me he could read my mind already. He'd said it would be another few days or so.
I accepted the water and made a tradeoff. He got the board, I got the bottle. He read over it and then gave his sister a pointed look before grabbing his napkin off the table and wiping the board clean. He tucked it under his arm and grabbed the marker, shoving it into the front pocket of his jeans. He said something to Madison, so fast that I didn't even have time to read it off his lips, but it was punctuated by a smile so it couldn't have been that bad. Still, his little sister blushed, dropping her gaze to the table top in front of her.
Derek reached out to me and I carefully placed my hand in his. Standing up, I left my napkin on the table and grabbed my water bottle. As I turned to him, I realized that he hadn't moved at all and I had nearly run into his chest. He was teasing me, knowing that his close proximity made my heart thump like I'd just finished running a marathon. His smile was slow, the corner of his lips twitching up. I caught my breath in my chest, aware of the fact that I was nearly pressed against him. How could I have not noticed that before? Was I just getting so used to him that I didn't feel it when I was thinking about something else?
His eyes held mine for a minute as I counted the golden flecks in them. Finally, he released my gaze and turned to lead me out of the room. I managed to catch a look at the others still sitting at their card tables. Jack and Madison looked amused, as did Carissa and Zach. The latter group also had a sense of longing as they looked at us, as if they couldn't wait for their moment. I figured that they would get it soon. Like they had said, the imprints were coming back. I didn't really know the semantics of it all – something about a rogue clan, a bunch of bad mistakes, and a girl that promised to change everything – but I figured that Derek and I couldn't be the only ones to receive this gift.
Derek pulled me into the hall. I figured that he just wanted to say something to me without having his family overhear (or, technically, read over my shoulder) but that wasn't what he was going for. Instead, he cornered me in the small alcove there. His hands rested on my arms, and I got the sudden feeling that he was doing this to gauge my reaction. He was being so forward because he wanted to see what I would do. I couldn't hide the fact that my heart was beating a million times a minute, and I could tell that he knew it by the way he smiled, his eyes full of longing. My breath caught in my chest, my eyes locked on his. I was aware of his body nearly pressed completely against mine, and I was thinking about it so hard that I didn't even notice he was talking to me until I felt his mind just barely touch mine. He was probing for answers.
With a smirk, I slammed a steel door that I'd imagined in my head down. He took a slight step back, surprise and admiration clearly reflected in his eyes. With boldness I didn't even know I possessed, I easily pulled the dry erase marker from his front pocket and held it up between us. "You know I can't understand a word you're saying." I said to him. I couldn't tell if my voice was shaky or not, but I knew that it was low, whispered only between us. I wondered if it had a gravelly, sultry sound to it. Girls' voices can change too, and I wondered if mine was still the high-pitched squeak it was when I was a kid.
Derek nearly went cross-eyed as he looked at the marker between us. Finally, he reached up and pushed my hand and the marker down. His eyes met mine. I focused on them for a second before allowing myself to look down at his lips. The eyes were my favorite on any person, but I looked at lips enough to know that even lips can be pretty in their own way. Derek's were nice, with a Cupid's bow at the top that was barely noticeable and a slightly plumper bottom lip than his top. They looked smooth, too. I wanted to just touch a finger to them, but that would definitely be weird, even if he was my significant.
"You drive me crazy," he said to me. I ran over the movements of his mouth in my mind, trying to make sure that really was what he said. I could feel a blush crawling up my neck, staining my cheeks. It was accompanied by a fluttering like a million butterflies in my stomach. For once in my life, I couldn't think of anything remotely snarky to say in return. Instead, I just gave him a slightly dazed smile. His grin back was so bright it rivaled the sun.
I lowered my gaze to take a breath and noticed a clock hanging in the hallway. It was just barely past one in the afternoon. I didn't have to be at work until four, but Xavier usually worked the evening shift since he took classes at the crack of dawn. He worked full-time, which meant that he would have had to be there at twelve. He was bound to be wondering where I was, and I knew that if he knew that I was hanging out with Derek, he would be sort of offended. I needed to get to work and try to smooth things over.
Derek must have sensed my sudden change in emotion because he took a step back and gave me a look that said he'd been worried that he'd offended me. I shook my head, aware of the fact that he was trying to press into my mind to see what was bothering me. This time, I didn't slam the door in his face and allowed him to get closer to me. After a moment that sort of felt like he was sifting through my thoughts, I decided to push one to him. I wasn't sure if I was able to do that, but it was worth the shot. Focusing all my energy on him, I pushed an image of Xavier and my mother at the music shop towards Derek.
His eyes grew a little bit as he looked at me and I could tell that he was seeing what I was sending him. Apparently it was possible and I'd managed to do it. I figured that it was just another one of those things that significants could do with each other. He'd told me about memory transfers, reading each other's minds, and even contacting each other over distances with the ability to look through the other's eyes. But Derek looked like I'd just completed some feat. "I'm so proud of you for being able to do that. It's only the second day." He said. The second day? I felt like it had been so much longer.
"So that's good?" I asked, relieved that I wasn't some freak. Well, more of a freak than I already was.
"It's great, Emily. But what are you trying to tell me with your friend?" He had only taken a small step back from me, so we were still enclosed together in the tiny alcove. My back was pressed against the wall and I could feel the waxy fake leaves of the floral arrangement tickling my neck.
"I've got to get to work. I need to… well, he's not too happy about you." I admitted to him. And Xavier hadn't been. He wasn't pleased with the fact that I was hanging out with Derek. He'd never said it in so many words, but over the years I'd become an expert in body language, and even if he kept his eyes guarded, the hunch of his shoulders, the puff of his chest, or the curling of his fists spoke a thousand words.
"Is he your boyfriend?" Derek asked. He looked a little horrified over the fact that it was even possible. I could feel that awkward blush wash over me. Derek and I had known each other for a couple days, but it felt like I knew him forever. It was like there hadn't been any other crushes or love interests before him. He was it. But there had been others, even if they were few and far between. And I'd be lying to myself if I hadn't thought at some point that Xavier could have been my perfect boyfriend. Apparently, I took too long to answer because Derek took a step back. He didn't look mad; he just looked kind of shocked. His hands left my arms and I was immediately filled with the coldness that came when he wasn't around.
"No," I told him, aware of the fact that my hesitation caught in my throat. I had discussed this with Xavier only yesterday and he'd obviously been a little upset when I'd told him that we'd never been anything more than friends. I decided to try for the total truth and said, "I mean, I've kissed him in the past but he's… he's my best friend."
Derek's eyes searched mine, as if he thought there was a possibility that I was lying, but I could already see in them that he completely believed me. He was an open book. I gave a little smile at the thought. With him, I didn't have to analyze where his eyes were focused or the way he stood. I just had to look at him and I knew. And apparently, he knew me, too. I wasn't lying to him. I wasn't sure that I could lie to him. "Okay," he sighed after a moment of deliberation. "Alright, let's go." He looped an arm around my waist and led me back into the living room to say our goodbyes.
We headed out to the garage after bidding his family adieu. As we stepped in, Derek motioned to a corkboard on the wall. It was covered in keys. "Take your pick," he said jokingly, moving his hand under the board as if he was one of those women on game shows, presenting the prize to me. I looked at him just to see if he was joking or not. He was amused, but I could tell that he wasn't joking, not in the least. He wanted me to pick a key to choose out the car that we'd be taking to the music shop, where I suspected my mom and Xavier would be waiting for me.
I bit down on my lip and turned to survey the cars behind me. They were all fancy, most of them little sedans, but there was a coupe in the back corner and a sleek truck behind it. Derek's bike was parked in its little space, and there was the car that he had picked me up in that morning. The most noticeable car was one that was charcoal gray and had hot pink accents. I could imagine that it belonged to Carissa. I had liked her well enough, but she seemed like one of those girls that truly reveled in money. Or maybe it was just the diamonds that were snaked across her wrist and set in gold.
I turned to the corkboard, running my finger along the bottom. Derek hovered right next to me, waiting. Finally, I reached up and picked out the key in the very middle of the corkboard, handing it over to him. He grinned like he had won an award, turning me around and clicking the keyless remote. Down the way, a sleek sports car's headlights lit up. I swallowed. Of course, I picked out the most obvious car in the entire garage.
# # #
Derek rolled into the parking lot right in front of the shop. I could see through the windows into my desk. Xavier was perched on the edge of the counter even though my mother had jokingly told him a million times not to sit on it. Even when I wasn't there, he refused to sit in the chair that was dubbed as mine and mine only. I could feel the purr of the engine shut off and Derek went to open his door. He'd told me that his dad owned a car with those doors that reminded me of butterfly wings – they drifted up instead of opening to the side. Luckily, this car was not one of those. That would only make my grand entrance worse.
I just barely swallowed the cry for him to stay in the car. If he wanted to be all chivalrous and come open my door for me, which he was doing right that moment, then who was I to stop him? Well, I guess I was his significant, and it was obvious that he would do anything for me, but I wasn't going to make him feel like I didn't want to be seen with him. Even if it was sort of true. I mean, I didn't want Xavier to see me with him, because then it was going to start another fight between us, and I didn't know if I'd be able to handle that. I was pretty sure my psyche was remarkably unstable at the moment.
Derek opened my door as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I'd sat there for about a minute and just stared forward and the front windshield, wondering if Xavier could see in to me. I doubted it because the windows were darkly tinted. It wasn't like it mattered anyway; he would see me in a few seconds. But still.
Derek offered me his hand like a gentleman. Giving him a short glare to tell him that I didn't need to be treated like a spoiled damsel in distress, I stepped out of the car myself, pulling on the handle above my head. My significant gave me one of his dazzling smiles (really, it should be patented – no other guy should be able to give that level of dazzle with his teeth) and closed the door behind me.
"What are you doing?" I hissed to him as we stepped up onto the sidewalk. I peeked inside the shop. Xavier sat on the counter, open-mouthed. One of his shoes was untied. About that time, I saw my mother come to the doorway and I knew in an instant that she would recognize Derek. I knew that the moment I walked in that room, she would take me back to her office where she would thoroughly question me. I had imagined that she would have waited until we got back home, but showing up with the same guy that was over at the house last night (or early this morning) in a car that looked like it belonged to James Bond was a completely different story.
"Walking you to the door," he answered, turning his body to face me. I paused in the middle of the sidewalk, barely aware of all of the people bustling around us. It was sort of like we were the only ones here. Or maybe not the only ones, but we were in a protective bubble that blocked out the rest of the world. I wondered if he knew that he did that to me. I wondered if I did that to him.
Derek's eyes darted inside the music shop for a quick moment before settling on me. "I have a favor to ask from you." I gave a very unladylike snort, but I motioned for him to ask anyway. "I've called in a favor with a friend to help with something. He should be coming in early tomorrow morning, and he'll spend the night tomorrow night before leaving early the next morning. I wanted to see if you would come meet him."
"You sure are burning through your favors pretty quickly," I told him offhandedly. Deep down inside, though, I was wondering who this mysterious friend could be. Of course I wanted to meet him. Curiosity killed the cat, and if I wasn't careful it was going to get me, too.
Derek smiled down at me. "You can even say you're spending the night with Carissa and Madison," he offered. I knew he wanted me around. I wanted me around him, too. And the guy did just ask me (sort of) to move in with him.
"Carissa is six years older than me and Madison is four years younger," I replied, "my mom probably won't think that they're my new besties."
"Would you rather tell her you were spending the night with Jack?" He asked, the corners of his lips twitching as he forced himself to keep back a smile.
I rolled my eyes. "I never said I would spend the night with your sisters." I told him, patting him on the chest. "Give me a little time to think about it and field the questions that are going to be coming from my mom and Xavier, okay?"
Derek sighed dramatically; I could tell by the heavy dropping off his shoulders and his breath on my face. It smelled faintly of our lunch. I thought about offering him a piece of gum. He must've been digging around on the surface of my mind because he laughed the moment the thought popped into my head. Reaching out to touch my face, he leaned in close to say a few words to me. "I'll come and see you before you go to sleep tonight. Leave your window open and your light on, and I'll figure out a way onto the roof."
"You scandalous man-child," I replied in a loud whisper. "You could ask to enter my chambers a little more romantically. Haven't you read Romeo and Juliet?" I asked.
"In case you can't remember, that's a tragedy." He reminded me with a little goading. "I'll see you tonight, fair Juliet." His lips barely moved so I struggled to make out the words, but they were obvious to me once I put them together. He put a hand on the side of my neck and leaned forward, pressing his lips to my temple for just a second before turning and leaving me on the sidewalk. Just to make sure that I could actually move, I stepped forward and took a hold of the handle, pausing to look back at him. I couldn't see him through the windshield, but in my mind I could see him give me a light salute. These mind games were easier than I would have imagined.
Derek's expensive car pulled out of its parking space and headed down the street. I watched as he paused at the stop sign, the red taillights bright, the blinker flashing as he turned and disappeared from view. Every single time, I wanted to chase him down. And every single time, I had to restrain myself.
With a heavy sigh, I turned and opened the door to the shop. Within seconds, Xavier was practically up in my face. I let the door close behind me and ignored my best friend as he hovered over my shoulder like a fly over honey. I slipped around the back of the desk without looking up at my mom, dropping my purse on the floor. The corner of the whiteboard stuck out, and I gave it a slight kick, hoping to hide it a little better. My mom would be adamant that a relationship couldn't be built solely on lip-reading and messages to one another. I didn't know if she was going to go as far as to forbid me from seeing him (that would be melodramatic, even for her) but I didn't want to chance it.
I turned to grab my chair and instead caught my mother's eye. She looked a little pensive, like she was looking at me and thinking really hard about something. But she also looked slightly ecstatic with a healthy dose of cautious worry. I knew that all of the emotions on her face were a mixed reaction to seeing me on the sidewalk with Derek. She signed, "Come in my office and talk to me."
Like a kid that knew she'd gotten in trouble, I chanced a glance at my best friend. Instead of looking amused that I was being called into the "principal's" office or even a little worried that I was going to get into trouble, he just looked mad. Or maybe it wasn't exactly mad, but it was definitely annoyed, or maybe even peeved. It didn't look like I was going to get any moral support from him, so I stepped by, spinning the chair as I walked by it before slipping past my mother and into her office.
The office wasn't very big. The desk that had once been in her home office when my parents were still married nearly went all the way across the room with a two to three foot space in between it and the wall. The narrow walkway was hindered by a small wastepaper basket. There was a shelf full of hollow squares for her to put stuff in behind her like pictures and potted plants, and it sat on top of a row of scratched up filing cabinets. Her computer sat on the desk, her keyboard and mouse directly in front of it. The venti-sized coffee sat in front of her, and there were papers spread all over the surface of the desk. My mother wasn't the most organized woman around, but she knew where everything in her office was.
I sat down in one of the two slightly uncomfortable seats pressed against the wall across from her desk, struggling to cross my legs in front of me. Mom let the door close as she stepped into the room, and I saw Xavier hovering nearby out of the tiny window that was more like a slit in the door. She slid into her comfortable swiveling computer chair (it was supposed to be good for people with back problems) and turned to face me, both of her hands flat on the desk as her eyes searched mine for information before she started interrogating me.
I knew the move. It was something she always did, especially when I was in trouble. I couldn't be for sure, though, what it meant until she started asking the questions. I think it was supposed to be some way to soften me up, like a good-cop/bad-cop thing going on without the tag team. I folded my hands in front of me and rested them on my knees, trying my best to appear relaxed and completely unbothered by her scrutiny.
Finally, she leaned back in her seat and started to sign to me. She didn't open her mouth to add unheard words to it, so I assumed that she thought that this was important enough that Xavier shouldn't be able to hear. And I was pretty sure that he was listening in, sitting at the base of the door and waiting for information.
"Who is that boy, Emily?" She asked me, her hands moving swiftly in front of her.
"He's my friend," I replied with my hand motions, keeping my mouth shut. I glanced out the window to see if Xavier was watching me and was relieved to find that he wasn't. Focusing my gaze on my mother, I decided that it was best if I told her as much of the truth as I could without seeming suspicious. It was going to be hard, but she was my mom and she knew almost everything about me. I sometimes believed that she knew me better than I knew myself. She would know if I was doing a bad job at my lying. So I decided on half-truths, which I was almost sure that I would be able to get by with. Instead of telling her that he was my soul mate, my imprinted significant, I signed, "I really like him."
Mom sighed and scooted forward in her desk. "How much do you like him? I've only seen him once before, and even though he was very kind, I want you to be careful with him. He seems older."
"He is," I signed in reply. "But he is very nice, mom. He's mature, and he understands me."
"Does he really now?" Her eyes were hard as her hands made the movements. She was worried about me. "Sometimes older boys like to take advantage of girls younger and more naïve than them."
"Are you calling me stupid?" I signed, but the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I was pretty sure that I'd said it in an accusing tone, too. Clearing my throat, and I quickly signed, "I'm not. He really is nice to me. He understands that I can't hear him, mom, and he still hangs around."
Mom sighed, looking away from me for a moment as if she was trying to collect her thoughts. "Emily, be careful with him. Don't just follow your heart blindly. Use your head, too."
"I am. He wants nothing but to be there for me. Mom, you should see his eyes. They're so expressive. It's like I can read every emotion in them. He's not a very good liar."
She dropped her hands on her desk, picking up a pen. For a moment she scribbled down something on a piece of paper, and I had the feeling that she was just stalling, trying to think of something to say. My mom had been in love, once. Sometimes I wondered if she still was in a way. She and my dad had been high school sweethearts. Everyone had believed that they were perfect for each other. They had stuck together for years, and they'd been happy. It really did make me second guess myself. If I was so happy with Derek now, what was it going to be like in thirty years? If I allowed myself to fall for Derek and our relationship turned south just like my parents' did, where did that leave me?
But then again, I'd met his family. Even his grandparents seemed like they were so in love, more than my parents had been when I was a kid. I'd never seen anybody be like that before. It was sort of like they were the embodiment of the imprint between me and Derek. Something magical, something strong, something lasting. I realized, in that moment, that even though my mom's perfect love hadn't turned out to be so perfect it didn't mean that mine couldn't. The only problem was going to be getting my mom to understand that. Derek was supposed to be perfect for me in every conceivable way. But she wouldn't cave that easily. She wouldn't let me, her little girl that so desperately needed her mother's help after she lost her hearing, to handle something like this on my own. I had the feeling that my mom had sort of depended on me to stick around forever. She'd thought that my dad would do that job, but he was gone now. It was just me and her, and a part of me wondered if she would ever be okay with me stepping farther away from her and closer to someone else.
After a minute of silence, she looked up at me and signed. "I want to meet him. To really meet him," she emphasized the words by making her eyes larger, conveying how important this was to me. "Where did you meet him, anyway?"
"Here, at the shop." I replied out loud. She looked away for a moment, and I added, "Mom, I really do like him. I mean, he gives me butterflies. He makes me smile. He can joke with me and I can joke with him. It's like he truly does understand me. It's like I've known him… forever. I really, really like him, mom." I said the words quietly, hoping that they would get through to her. I wasn't her little girl anymore. I was a nineteen-year-old with an imprinted soul mate and a future ahead of her. I couldn't be held back anymore, she'd have to see that.
Mom sighed, and when she looked up at me, I thought that there was a glistening of tears in her eyes. I figured that they were because all of this felt so final. Even though my mom didn't know how final it truly was, it was almost like it was tangible. I could feel it, and I was pretty sure that she could, too. My mother was no dimwit. She could figure things out on her own. She could look at me and see the things that I couldn't.
I wondered what she saw there that made her gave me a slightly sad, but proud, smile.
What do you guys think? AwesomeSauce220, here is the first brief conversation Emily's had with her mother. (;
You guys know what to do by now. Leave me a quick review and I will be grateful! Thank you for reading! Peace (: