“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” she says carefully. “If you and Sara want to go to the mall this weekend, I can take you. I’m off Saturday.”

“I don’t want to go with you,” I blurt.

As soon as the words are out, my stomach drops and I want to suck them back in. My mom looks like I just slapped her, and suddenly my appetite is gone.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love going shopping with you. I mean… I don’t love shopping, but you know I always want to spend time with you. I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

She holds up a hand, recovered from her surprise and trying to let me off the hook. “I know.”

“I’m sorry. That came out so mean,” I say, looking down at my lap.

“I understand what you meant. You don’t just want to go to the mall, you want to… go with him.”

“And Sara,” I add, but with little effort. She knows Hunter is the one I really want to hang out with this weekend.

Mom sighs, looking at the dinner table as she processes. “Who all will be there?”

“Me and Sara, Hunter and Wally, and then a couple more of his friends, he didn’t say who. His mom’s going to drive.”

“She can drive them. I’ll drive you and Sara.”

I brighten. “Does that mean I can go?”

I can tell she’s dreading it, so instead of saying yes, she looks at me across the table. “You’re too young to start dating.”

I freeze, and my face flames. “I’m not dating.”

“I know, I’m just putting it out there. Obviously, you like this boy. That’s perfectly okay. He might like you, too—but you’re too young for a boyfriend. You’re too young for a lot of things, and I’m worried that you and this boy… you might not be on the same page. He hangs out with a different crowd. He’s a jock, which tends to mean something at your age,” she says, rolling her eyes and sighing. “He has rich parents and popular friends, and his values might differ significantly from yours. I don’t want you to lose who you are over some boy. I know everyone makes mistakes, it’s part of growing up, but I just have a feeling about this boy, honey. Call it mother’s intuition. I don’t think he’s someone you should be spending your time with.”

Crossing my arms defensively, I tell her, “You don’t even know him.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I only know what I’ve seen and what I’ve heard, but frankly, that’s enough to give me doubts. You are my only concern.” She reaches a hand across the table in my direction, but I keep my arms crossed. “If you want to go to the mall with him and his friends this weekend, you can. But please be careful. Some people can look really good on the surface, but when you look closer, you see… maybe they’re not so good.”

“He is good,” I say stubbornly, despite my prior belief that he was a jerk.

Mom presses her lips together grimly and leans back in her chair. I can tell she wants to say something, but she refrains. “All right. Well, I trust your judgment. If that judgment changes as you collect more information about him, I’ll trust that, too. Just pay attention to how you feel when you’re around him. I don’t mean… the fun, smitten feeling, but a few layers deeper. You should feel comfortable with your friends, so if your instincts start to kick up doubt about his intentions, make sure you pay attention to that. If anything he does starts making you uncomfortable, get out of there. Remove yourself from the situation immediately. If he pressures you to do anything you don’t want to do, you tell him no, and if he doesn’t listen, kick him right between the legs.”

Mortified, I cover my face with my hands. “Oh my God, Mom.”

“Or knee him. A good knee to the crotch works nicely.”

“Please stop.”

She doesn’t. “Hitting him in the Adam’s apple with your open palm might work, too. Depending on your positioning, that could be hard, but you can also use the palm of your hand to hit him really hard in the nose. You might break it, you might make him cry—whatever happens, I promise he’ll be too distracted to keep doing whatever he was doing to make you uncomfortable,” she adds. “Just pow! and then run like the wind.”

“I’m uncomfortable now. If I ram you in the nose, can I run away from this conversation?”

She ignores me. “If all else fails, scream bloody murder. Don’t worry about making a scene and embarrassing anyone else. Make a scene.”

“I will literally pay you to stop talking.”

When I move my hands from my face, Mom’s grinning. “I’ve seen your savings account, kid; you can’t afford to silence me.”

Tags: Sam Mariano Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net