Having classes on a Friday afternoon is the absolute
worst.
And it's even worse when your last class is Intro to Microeconomics. I'm trying my best to pay attention, but my brain just won't cooperate. Right now, the only thing on my mind is
her.
I've been waiting to hear her voice again all week. And now I'm only a few short minutes away...
The second my professor ends class, I throw my things in my backpack and sprint back to my dorm. It's late fall, but still hot out, so by the time I'm back in my room I'm soaked with sweat and my hair is starting to come out of the neat braids I pleated it into this morning. I don't care, though.
She
thinks I'm beautiful no matter how sweaty or disheveled I am.
I got really lucky, so I have a dorm room all to myself. It's cramped, with only a tiny bed and a desk. But that's all I need. I strip out of my jeans and blouse and throw on a baggy, oversized t-shirt. Then I crawl into my computer chair and open my laptop, sitting with my knees tucked against my chest and my bare feet against the soft, slightly sticky upholstery. While my old piece-of-junk computer boots up, I fish my phone out of my backpack.
Hey! Missed you so much! I'm ready whenever you are <3
After a few minutes, she texts me back. And there really is nothing else in the world that makes my heart trill like getting a message from her. Just knowing that she's sitting back home, holding her phone, thinking of me, talking to me...
I could melt. I love her so much!
Alright! Just let me finish putting away laundry and I'll call you! <3
I hold my phone to my heart and squeal, kicking my feet out of sheer joy. I've been looking forward to this all week! Through all the homework, boring classes, and annoying dorm-floor meetings I've had to sit through, she's been the number one thing on my mind.
My computer plays the "incoming call" jingle for Skype. I answer immediately, clicking the option for a video call. For a few seconds, I'm staring at a webcam feed of my own face.
I'm... not the prettiest girl ever, I guess. I'm short and I've got a bit of a baby face, with pudgy round cheeks like a doll. I'm a college freshman, but people always assume I'm younger. I'm a bit chubby too, even though I've been trying to be better about going swimming every other day. My hair is a plain brown, and it's kind of frizzy, so I usually tame it by braiding it into long pleats that fall down to my waist. There definitely aren't a lot of people checking me out on campus. But to be honest, I don't really care. I only want
her
to admire me, I don't care about anyone else.
Finally, the woman calling me shows up in the webcam.
I'm so excited to see her that I let out a tiny little chirp of pure joy.
My mom is sitting in front of her office computer, looking brilliant in an unbuttoned shirt worn over a tightly fitted tank top. Honestly, I don't know how a little goblin girl like
me
is related to someone as stunning as she is. She's tall and slender, with the body of an elf out of Lord of the Rings. We have the same frizzy hair, but hers is like a glorious mane of reddish-brown curls spilling along her shoulders. She has her hair pushed back with a black band, and it falls down behind her like a wave of autumn color. We've both got glasses, but hers are the narrow, smart glasses of a fashionable lady, while I've got big round cokebottle lenses.
And yet when my mom sees me, she smiles like I'm the most beautiful creature on the planet. I swear I could live off of her smile and nothing else.
"Hey baby! You look like you've had a long week. Everything alright?"
"Yeah," I say, and I sigh. "Midterms are coming up. I've been working like crazy."
"I bet. But hey, it's the weekend! You've earned a nice break. Any fun plans?"
"Besides talking to you?"
My mom smiles. "A cute college girl like you can't spend her
whole weekend
just talking to her mom. Going to any parties?"
I shake my head. "C'mon, mom. You know parties aren't my thing. Too loud. Too many people."
"Of course. Any dates? Any clubs?"
"I actually joined our school's writers' club! But we only meet on weekdays."
"Awww," my mom says. There is a tiny note of disappointment in her voice. I know she expects me to go out and be social. But I'm not really a social person. And besides, I'd rather be talking to her than anyone else.
"No dates either?" she asks me.
"Nope. Just you," I say.
That gets her to giggle, which makes me feel proud of myself. "Oh! Well, I won't complain about having you all to myself. I've missed you too, Millie." My mom settles back in her hair. She sighs, and I can tell she's tired. "So? Reading anything good?"
"So much good stuff!" I say, perking up. I reach over and grab up a huge stack of books from my desk. "Someone in the writer's club recommended me this
really
good sapphic romance! It's set in a dark fantasy world, and the protagonist and her love interest are both
total
wrecks."
My mom winks. "Sounds exactly like your kind of story."
"It really is. And um, I've been writing again too!"
"You have?" Her face brightens immediately. "That's great, Mil! You'll show me, right?"
"O-oh, um, I can. But, uh..." I fidget with the baggy fabric of my shirt. "...this one's maybe a
little
bit risque?"
My mom scoffs. "Sweetie, I'm not a prude. And besides, you know I don't mind a good steamy scene." She wriggles her shoulders a bit, and heat creeps up my neck.
"M-mom!" I scold her, laughing. "Alright. I'll send it before I go to bed."
"Thank you, baby! I'm looking forward to it. I really am. You know I always loved reading what you wrote back in highschool."
"Yeah," I say, and I catch the smile playing on my lips. "You were probably my biggest inspiration." There's a weird tightness forming in my chest now, so I decide to change the subject. "W-what about you? What are you reading?"
And just like that, my mom and I spend the whole evening talking, like we always do.
I don't even notice the time going by. I gush about how much I'm loving the new book, and she tells me about what she's been reading lately. She works in publishing, so she can talk about books all afternoon. She's definitely the reason I love reading as much as I do. Her mind is just
incredible.
She can break books apart into all the parts that work, then talk about which ones she thinks will be big hits, and which ones she thinks need more work.
We've spent hours talking by the time I realize how hungry I am. My stomach rumbles a little, and the mic must have picked it up. My mom grins.
"Did you forget to eat, baby?"
"I... might have. I was really excited to see you!"
"Millie, we talk every weekend."
"Yeah, and I always look forward to it..."
My mom shakes her head, laughing. "Go eat, baby! I'll be here when you get back."
"Promise?" I ask her.
She gives me a sly grin. "I'm not gonna leave without kicking your butt in
Mythcraft
a few times."
"Oh! You wanna play?"
"I need it, baby. After the day I've had..."
"You didn't tell me you had a bad day!" I say, pouting.
"I was having too much fun listening to you! And it was nothing. Just a bad first date."
"A... a date?" I can't explain why, but the word makes my stomach twist. "I... I didn't know you were trying to date again."
"Well, I have the house mostly to myself now. And to be perfectly honest baby, I'm a little lonely."
"Awww. I can come home! I'll visit tomorrow, if you want!"
My mom shakes her head. "You should enjoy your time on campus! I'll be okay on my own, Mil. Now go get your dinner."
"Alright..."
I slink out of my computer chair, grab a box of instant macaroni, and pad out of my room. I'm so stressed that I don't even remember to put on pants. A few girls on my floor give me weird looks as they pass me. Barefoot and half-naked, I pad into the kitchen and start the pot boiling for my mac-and-cheese. My head is full of jittery, anxious thoughts chasing each other in circles.
My mom's dating again?
That shouldn't bother me, obviously. She deserves to get herself a partner! I was born when she was still young, and she never married. When I came out to her as gay, she admitted that she liked women too. We've always been able to confide in each other about that. But I always assumed...
What?
That I would be the only thing in her life?
I feel like a jealous little cretin, obsessing over her like this. Because she's right. I should be out making new friends, getting myself a proper girlfriend. But the idea of spending my evenings with someone other than my mom is kinda depressing. Even if I found the hottest girl alive, I think I'd still miss my mom.
That makes me kinda pathetic, doesn't it?
Unbidden, this memory resurfaces of me and my mom playing princess when I was five or six. I dressed up in a cheap dress and kept making her "rescue" me from imaginary monsters. And then when she'd "rescued" me, I promised to marry her and be her wife. She laughed and said she was the queen. I had to marry a prince. But I thought princes were icky. I only wanted to marry a queen, I said. I made her
promise
she'd be my bride one day. I was almost crying. And eventually she gave me a hug and said yes, she'd marry me.
I can still hear her voice, whispering into my tiny ear.
"Okay, Mil. I'll marry you. But you have to be extra good, okay? And you have to make me breakfast, play all the games I want, and snuggle with me every single day."
"I'll do it! Every day! I'll be a great wife, I promise!"
Then I got up and kissed her on the cheek. And she squeezed me so tightly I could feel her heartbeat against my chest.
That night, I got into bed with her. I shared her bed a lot when I was little, so she was used to it. And I remember wrapping my arms around her and resting my head on her shoulder.
"You mean it, right?"
I whispered to her.
"We'll really get married?"
"When you're older, sweetie."
"But we will, right? Promise?"
"..."
"Promise?"
"Yes, Mil. I promise. Now go to sleep, my love."
"Mmm, okay. I love you, mama..."
I get pulled out of the memory when a bit of boiling water splashes onto my hand. I yelp and quickly turn down the heat on the stove.
My whole body is flush with heat, and I have the kind of super-anxious jitters that I usually only get before a big test. I'd completely forgotten about that. I really am a total mama's girl, aren't I? It's so cringe that I kind of want to sink into the earth forever. Is that why I'm so jealous? A tiny childish part of me still thinks my mom is going to marry me, and I don't want to let her go.
Sigmund Freud would love to meet me, I'm sure.
