Oblivious To The Signs

February 8: I Am Not Jealous!

February 8:  (Monday)

"Good morning, mom!" I greeted her once I saw her cooking breakfast in the kitchen.

She almost jumped upon hearing my loud voice. "You're awake now?"

I looked over myself from head to toe.

"I guess so?" I replied skeptically.

"Oh, don't give me that mom's-being-weird-again look." She wagged her finger at me.

"Then why would you ask the obvious?" I countered, trying hard not to crack a smile.

"I asked a rhetorical question." She answered back.

"A rhetorical question?"

This conversation isn't going anywhere.

Stone-faced, she said, "A figure of speech in the form of a question that is asked in order to make a point."

"Oh, wow. Moms really are the best teacher." I told her in a monotone then added hastily, "Of course I know what a rhetorical question is!"

She cocked me an eyebrow which sends a very clear message: don't raise your voice at me.

I sighed, collecting my cool, as I sat down on one of our dining chairs. "Sorry."

Seeming satisfied, she returned her attention back to cooking breakfast. "Why are you up so early?"

I glanced at the wall clock in the kitchen. It's fifteen minutes before 7.

"Don't know." I shrugged.

She turned to give me a sly look. "Don't suppose a specific someone is going to pick you up?"

My head whipped at her direction so fast I was surprised I didn't nick my neck. "Andrew told you he's picking me up, didn't he?"

Her eyes widened and her whole face lit up. "So he is going to pick you up!"

Oh. Busted.

I started blushing as my mom caught me red-handed. I didn't want her to know what happened between Andrew and I last night, how we both decided that we're more than best friends, because she'll probably drop dead on the floor with happiness. Or worse––she'd call Lynn immediately to deliver the "good news" that their goal in life is finally achieved.

So, no. That's why I have decided to keep everything that happened last night from my mom. End of story.

I cleared my throat. "Um, yeah. He just offered last night so I said why not?" I tried to cover up my tracks. "It's not like best friends can't go carpooling with each other, right?"

She gave an uncommitted shrug, her eyes still not dropping their glint. Oh boy.

"I guess so."

I inwardly sighed. Best not to say anything to her. It's not that I don't want her knowing per se, it's just that I don't want her to over-analyze Andrew and I's relationship when I, myself, don't know what we are. Sure, we're more than best friends, but we aren't a couple either. A line from Carly Rae's Tonight I'm Getting Over You––we're not lovers, but more than friends––unexpectedly played in my head.

"So what time is he driving you home?" She asked me, breaking me from my reverie.

"Just after he's done with training, maybe? I'm not sure. He might be feeling a little hungry after that so we might stop by somewhere to eat first.... as friends." I stressed out the last part after seeing my mom looking excited again.

Boy, when typical moms worry about their daughters going on dates with a guy, my mom's the exact opposite.

Again, she just shrugged off my jibe. "Oh, his big game's on Friday, right?"