Bombarded

My mother bombards me as soon as I walk in the door.

"Bella! How was your - how do you - what do you - are you - why are you - if - um - how was your day?" she finally settles on.

"Um . . . good."

"Why are you home so late? School ended two hours ago . . ." she asks.

Oh god.

I'm a terrible liar.

I'm going to have to tell her that I got detention.

But maybe if I include Edward I won't get in so much trouble . . .

I gulp.

"Well, I might have gotten detention today for talking in class."

Her face flushes, "Bella, we talked about this," she scolds.

"But I was talking to -"

"No excuses! You said that you were going to be -"

"Mom, I was talking to -"

"- more respectful to your teachers and -"

"Mom! Can you just listen for a minute?" I exclaim, making her stop.

She sighs loudly, "What, Bella."

"I was talking to my mate."

My mate.

It's weird . . .

It's weird . . . saying that.

It's weird . . . putting a face and name to the label.

I'm not sure how I feel about it . . . but I said that I would try.

"Oh," she breathes, "How did that go?"

And she finally asks what she's wanted to ask be since I've walked in the front door.

But what do I say?

'Well he kicked a ball at my head right before we mated . . . and then I told him off in front of my entire gym class . . . and then we argued in the hallway . . . and then he transferred into all of my classes . . . and then I got into a screaming match with him which is actually the real reason why I got detention, and, oh, by the way, that's not the first time that I got detention today . . . but then I told him why I was upset when we were kicked out of class . . . and then I almost passed out from oxygen deprivation while trying to ignore him . . . oh yeah, and then I invited him to dinner because he promised to get me presents . . . then he was a total asshole . . . then I read something that made me change my mind about him . . .'

Yeah, I probably shouldn't tell her all of that.

"Bella?"

Oh yeah; I haven't responded yet.

"He's coming to dinner tonight."

She smiles, "Well . . . that's good . . . right?"

Tentatively, I smile back, "Yeah . . . well, I'm going to go get ready for dinner."

I don't have any homework.

"Okay."

I guess that went well.

A/N: Let me know what you think!

Oh, and keep an eye out for one of my new stories; I think that you'll all like it. It's pretty funny: Super White Girl Problems.

~ Madison ~