Do I have to turn in my "teenager license" or something if I admit I love my mom?

Yeah, I'm still a little proud of being mommy's little girl. I was never into the whole "teenage rebellion" thing, especially if it hurt Mom in some way. And can you really blame me? My mom rules! She's beyond patient, loving, nurturing, wise, and understanding. Not to mention, pretty badass, at least in my opinion. I mean, imagine raising a daughter when you're barely out of high school largely by yourself, and still managing to be the best darn mom not only in town, but for miles around. Sure, she had help from a cast of superpowered babysitters, but even with that, she still took on the lion's share of parenthood, and won.

All this is why I can only shrug when friends my age complain about their parents or caretakers. Can't relate, love mom, ratio.

I'm not saying Mom is perfect, because no Mobian is. She can be passive-aggressive sometimes, especially with Vector and I. She can also be strict sometimes, which made sense when Station Square was in danger of blowing up every weekend, but ever since The Not-So-Good-Doctor disappeared, most of our baddies pop up elsewhere, so the curfew is a bit silly. She can also be judgmental without actually saying what's wrong, which is beyond irritating sometimes.

But the thing that bothers me the most about Mom kind loops back to my love of her: she doesn't get mad, she gets disappointed.

I remember the first time I stayed out too late with my friends. It wasn't anything serious; we were just having dumb conversations and watching a series of terrible movies about vampires fighting zombies. The most scandalous thing that night was a round of Cards Against Mobians. It wasn't until Marine mentioned she was thinking about turning in for the night that I realized I stayed out until 3 am. According to Charmie, I flipped out, gathered my stuff, and literally flew out the window to try to make it home. He usually tells that part of the story with a stupid grin, like it was a joke.

All I remember about that night was the look on Mom's face when I finally got home. That, combined with the two-weeks of being grounded, made sure that I would never disappoint her for the foreseeable future.

That's why I've been so hesitant to talk to her about Tails. When I came home after a string of terrible sex-ed classes at school, I mentioned how cringey and almost laughable a lot of the films were. That alone set her off on some long spiel about how I should take this stuff more seriously, about how devastating teenage pregnancy could be, and so on. At the time, I just kind of nodded and left, not giving it much thought. But when my feelings about Tails became clearer, that lecture came creeping back into my mind, which soon added itself to the pile of doubts crushing me right now.

Last thing I needed, I thought, was Mom glowering in disapproval, or even forbidding me from seeing him until some vague deadline when I was "ready." And as a momma's girl, I wasn't going to go behind her back just to see him. That'd be devastating. It'd be a no-win situation. It was a complication on top of an ever-growing mountain of complications. It sucked.

This was all the mental math that went into the idea of not telling Mom about these feelings, and the reasons I told Vector not to tell her about them.

What he said in response wasn't encouraging:

"Why?"

It wasn't the response I was expecting or hoping for. He had listened to me explain in sorta- embarrassing detail what was going around in my head: my crush, my confusions, and finally my fears. The whole time, he was diplomatic and largely silent, letting me vent, basically. He didn't object, or even comment, over most of what I had to say, but his body language and expression shifted pretty harshly when I asked him not to tell Mom about any of what I said. He had gone from sitting in his chair, quietly eating breakfast with a straight back and a polite but stoic look on his face. But when I said the "magic words," his brows arched, and he leaned forward slightly but notably. It doesn't take much lean for a Mobian his size to intimidate a bit.

"Why what?"

"Why shouldn't we tell your mother about this?"

I honestly wasn't expecting that question. Forget getting caught off guard, I feel like I've been sucker-punched. "Um…"

"Cream, it's okay. You can tell me."

I don't answer right away, searching my mind for something resembling an answer. "It's complicated."

"So I've heard," he sighs. Quickly, he closes his eyes, like he stepped in something gross while wearing new shoes. "Sorry, sorry, that was snide. That's not helping."

I blink. Hearing him say that reminds me that he's trying to help. "It's okay. I'm not really helping, either." I pause, collecting my thoughts and my courage. "Look, if I'm being honest, I'm…scared of what she'll say or do."

"Like what?"

"I mean…she got pretty worked up when I brought up sex-ed, how do you think she'll feel if I said, 'Hi Mom, I'm catching feelings for a guy around my age?'"

He nods. "I can see where you're coming from."

"I'm not sure she'd want to listen to me venting about a boy I like. Heck, she might even tell me to not see him until I 'cool off' or something."

"Is that what you're worried about?"

"Mostly."

He drummed his fingers lightly on the table. "Do you want my advice?"

"Of course."

"You should probably tell her anyway."

I balk. "What?"

He put up one of his hands. "Hold on, hear me out. I'm not saying what you're worried about doesn't matter. Trust me, I know what you're going through. But tucking it away is only going to make it worse." He smiles sheepishly. "I'm speaking from experience here."

I just stare at him, stunned.

"Look, if it comes to the worse, we can talk to her together, but I'm sure that if you sit down with her, you two can work something out." He pauses. "But, honestly, I think you'd be surprised by how she feels."

"How can you be so sure?" I reply. Disbelief infects my voice in a way I haven't used in a long time. I'm not angry, really, just…well, it's a darn good question. What makes him so sure?

That tone was a mistake. He goes from hangdog to irritated in a half-second. "I'd like to think I have some insight into my wife. Besides, we won't know for sure until you try. You could sit there and stew, but that hasn't really fixed anything, has it?"

I scoot back slightly. "Vector-"

He sighs and shakes his head. "Yeah, sorry, that came out wrong. But I mean it. Please, at least try to talk to your mother. And if it goes south and I'm full of it," he shrugs, "I dunno, I'll get you a bike or something."

"...Alright, Vector, I'll talk to Mom. I owe you that much."

"Cream, you owe yourself that much."

Normally, the den is a safe space. It's almost disgustingly cozy, filled with so much comfort you'd drown in a sea of content. Ever since I could remember, it had that same atmosphere. I remember hiding there as a kid when things got super rough, because where else would I hide? My room might have had a monster! The couch was always super comfortable, and unlike my bed, it didn't have a ton of space for a boogeyman to hide under. Nowadays, I use it more just to relax and read, but I have so many great memories here that it's like the core of my home.

So you could only imagine how tense things were. That safe haven felt like an interrogation room.

Mom had taken a seat in her favorite chair, a plain shaped but functional thing with a floral covering that made something simple a bit beautiful. I was sitting on the couch on the rightmost cushion, close enough to be heard but far enough away to be out of reach. I had just finished telling her about Tails and how I felt about him. To her credit, she listened the whole time, letting me stumble through my own feelings regardless of how many times I paused or stammered. But after that was…silence. For what felt like the rest of the weekend, she just sat there, in thought. I was worried if I said anything else, it'd backfire in some way, so I just waited.

Even if the intentions were good, it felt like she was cooking me in a stew of my own anxiety.

"First of all, I appreciate that you're being honest with me," she opens. Her words feel diplomatic, and would've been disarming in any other scenario. "I'm glad you told me before anything got started. If you went behind my back with this, that'd be a different story." She shakes her head. "Well, I'm just glad you're trying to talk through this. It sounds like you have a lot on your mind."

I don't say anything. I was so busy waiting for the inevitable "but" to derail the whole thing, but when it didn't come, I felt surprised. Shocked, really. I had this image in my head of Mom putting her foot down, but now…

"I know you have questions, dear, and trust me when I say I'm taking them seriously. It sounds very important to you. But please, let me ask a few of my own." I nod. "Let me start by asking why you like Tails? Why do you think you feel this way about him?"

"Well…shoot, I don't know where to start."

Mom smiles. "Take your time."

"He's…kind. Like, really kind. To everybody too, not just his friends." I can feel a stupid smile spreading across my face. "He's considerate, always looking for ways to help or make people happy. He's always looking out for others, and he's a great friend in general. He's selfless and loyal and funny, and…amazing."

"I see. It seems your feelings for him are quite strong." Having realized I just gushed about my crush to my mom, my smile disappears, and my cheeks feel hot. I hear her laugh softly. "Oh, honey, that's nothing to be ashamed of. It's honestly a lot more noble than my first crush."

"It wasn't my dad, was it?"

She sighed, her smile fading a bit. "No, it wasn't. The boy just happened to be handsome. He was…" the smile disappeared for a second before she shook her head again. "That's a story for another time. Is there a reason you haven't told him?"

"Because…I'm not sure I should."

"What do you mean?"

"It's…complicated." Gosh, I feel like that's the billionth time I've said that.

"I understand. Love can be very complicated indeed."

"'Love?' I-I'm not sure I feel that way about Tails." Or do I? Oh no, let's not add to the pile…

"I trust you, honey. Now, you said you're unsure if you should tell him. What are you worried about?"

"A lot. So much could go wrong. I mean, what if I tell him, and he doesn't feel the same way? Or what if he already knows, and hasn't said anything because he doesn't feel that way about me?" I remember to breathe this time to prevent the morning spiral from repeating itself. "And what if he 'just wants to be friends?' I don't think I can be friends with someone I have feelings for."

"Those are all good questions. And like you said, there are no easy answers for them. But you're not in this alone, Cream."

"Huh?"

"You don't have to muddle through this by yourself. If you ever get truly hurt or lost, you can always come to me or Vector. Don't misunderstand me, some of this you will have to figure out by yourself- every Mobian is different when it comes to these feelings. But there are absolutely some things we can help you with."

I stare into Mom's eyes, looking for some sort of answer. To say that this scenario played out differently than the one I had in my head would be an understatement. It'd be like calling our moon a golf ball. For so long, I had this vision of Mom being angry- no, disappointed- in what I was doing. But when I looked into her eyes, I saw no disappointment. Concern, definitely, but also plenty of that unconditional love she showered me with all my life.

Never has motherly love felt so unexpected and weird.

"Thank you," I manage to say. "I…I didn't think you'd want to help."

"Of course I want to help, dear, why wouldn't I?"

"Um, well, remember when I was making fun of those sex-ed films from school, and-"

Mom's expression shifts to something a bit more awkward. "Oh, I see. That was…Cream, you have to understand; at the time, I thought you were making light of the consequences."

"Consequences?" It takes less than half a second for the realization to crush me like a cinder block crushes a cockroach. "Ohhh. Mom I wasn't-"

"No, I understand that now. I didn't realize that experience stuck with you that much. I'm sorry it made you scared to come forward with all this." She sighs again. "I have…things to talk to you about when the time comes. About the…'next steps,' so to speak-"

"Mom, I swear-"

"-but that time isn't quite here, yet. Again, Cream, I trust you, and from what I know about Tails, I trust him too."

I bury my face in my hands. It's good to know she trusts Tails, but this is absolutely the worst way to find out.

Mom keeps going, her tone shifting significantly. "I'm sorry, Cream, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm just letting you know you can talk to us about anything."

"Right," I sigh. "I…I really do appreciate you wanting to help. It…takes a load off."

"I'm happy to help. Would you like some tea? I imagine you still have many questions, and something to drink may make things easier."

"Tea would be nice, yes." As she's getting up, something irresistible flashes in my mind. "Should I tell him?" I blurt.

Mom keeps standing and thinks for a second or two. "Yes, eventually. I don't think we can move on from this confusion until you do."

"That's not going to be easy…" I can already imagine me freezing up like a deer in the headlights, or completely mangling my thoughts in front of him, or the various ways he can turn me down.

"It's going to be hard," she agrees. "But anything worth doing is going to be a challenge. Take as much time as you need getting ready- approaching him before you are will make things…unpleasant."

"How will I know when I'm ready?"

"I can't say for certain. As I've said, it's different for every Mobian. Just take your time, and when the time comes, speak with your heart."

"Sounds…"

"Complicated?"

"Yeah, the good ol' 'c-' word."

Mom smiled knowingly. "If it helps, Cream, sometimes love is only as complicated as we make it. Now, about that tea- you're a jasmine girl, if I recall."

I just nod, trying to digest Mom's last line. Only as complicated as we make it, huh? I want to say it sounds like a terrible Hallmark card, but saying that to someone trying to help is a one-way ticket to an argument. At this point, I can only hope it comes in handy later. Otherwise, the next few days are going to be a slog.