𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 [slow updates]

𝟏𝟓

CINDY

The truth is, I don't have to think about anything. I decided the second he asked me that I would be helping him out with this.

What I'm actually doing by not paying him attention yet, is trying to talk myself out of this. Because is this not the worst idea in the history of ideas? Why am I like this?

I just felt so bad hearing things from his perspective. He didn't even say anything crazy meaningful. I'm friggin' pathetic.

People will say terrible things. Call me a whore and Tommy will hate me, and I won't be able to even explain things to him. Or anyone for that matter, and I have a big mouth. If I tell one person, I'll feel obligated to tell the whole world.

It sounds like it'll be one big disaster, but I couldn't say no. So I told him I'd think about it. Which, by the way, is basically exactly the same as saying yes. And curse him for looking pretty while basically announcing that my life would soon become a shit show.

Mom lifts her gaze, questioning me with her eyes as she rocks Eryn and tries to eat grapes at the same time.

My mother—the multitasker—asks:

"Are you feeling okay? You seem distracted."

My brain starts rushing because I can't just tell her that nothing's wrong. Because that's an obvious indicator of something being wrong. Who would I be kidding? Not Mom.

The first thing that comes to mind is:

"He asked me out. The guy."

She audibly gasps. "The guy. Football hunky-pants guy?"

I never want to hear the words "hunky-pants" leave her mouth again, but I don't have time to cover how utterly disgusted I am by those words.

"Yes. Him. He was over at my house because he wanted to talk about everything that's been happening, and then we're talking and he just asks me out."

If I can't tell anyone the truth, I'll just keep going by this. God, I think I'm going to have to write all this down before I forget anything.

"Really? What did you say?"

"That I'd think about it! Are you kidding me, Mom? Do you have any idea how many people are watching my every move. I'm pregnant with one guys kid and then seen cozying up next to another. What would people think? I couldn't say no, but God forbid I said yes."

Mom rolls her eyes at me. "Oh, Cindy. Please tell me you don't care about that superficial bullshit. It's that you want to go out with him or you don't. Don't let strangers decide that for you."

"Mom, you don't get it. I don't want to be told to kill myself because I decide to date someone whose name isn't Tommy. It wouldn't be fair to Levin either. Imagine all the dick-crazy weirdos that'll—"

"That'll what?" Mom laughs humorlessly. "Say things to him he's heard millions of times? Forgive me for saying this, love, but you're not a special case. You're something that's going to get him into trouble with some fans, and he's had multiple other somethings, I'll bet."

Never did I imagine my mother would basically tell me I'm not special. And I never imagined I would find it reassuring either. What are the odds?

"I guess you have a point."

She hasn't said a thing I haven't said to myself, but it's different coming from her. From an outside perspective. Even if she doesn't know the whole truth.

"I guess? I'm right, and you know it. So, if you're ready for all that again... Go for it."

It sounds so easy, but AGH.