Playing With The Big Boys Now

Like all good things, dance practice ended sooner than I would have wanted. I saw my mom pull up through the huge bay windows and waved to the other dancers before grabbing my bag and dashing outside.

"How was your day?" my mom asked as I leaped into the car.

"Meh," I mumbled, distracted with buckling my seatbelt.

"Come on, you can do better than meh," she replied.

She was right. I could do better then meh. The question was, did I want to?

"Fine, if you must know, my day was....strange," I sighed heavily.

"How so?"

I launched into a long, hysterical explanation of the odd looks Mikey was giving me, that I was having trouble nailing this one particular bit in the dance routine we had been practicing, and how my brain somehow managed to asphyxiate itself in the presence of a certain blue-eyed individual. After I was finished my rather unintelligible rant, I was breathing a little heavier than what was considered normal and my mother just sat there, staring out of the windshield. Although, that's kind of what you're supposed to do when driving.

We coasted to a stop at a red light, and she turned to look at me in that way that mothers have. That's all, just looking at me.

"Yes?" I snapped.

She turned her head back towards the road as the light flickered from red to green, still silent.

The entire ride how continued on in that way: silent, thoughtful, and for me, brooding and awkward. I drifted off into that odd state of being where you're staring at everything and nothing, not really seeing or hearing, and you're just kind of....out of it, and I didn't return until the jarring sound of tires on gravel reached my ears. I picked up my bag from the floor of the car and stormed up the walkway, waiting impatiently for my mom to unlock the door. Once inside, I threw my bag down in a huff and stomped up the stairs, heading straight for the shower, and coming out 30 minutes later in my pajamas with a towel on my head.

My mom was still sitting at the kitchen table, where she had been since we got into the house. A little calmer thanks to the relaxing powers of a nice hot shower, I sat down across from her, neither one of us saying anything.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, she looked up at me, and said, "Ask Mikey, then think about it. And as for the dancing issues, you'll get it eventually."

And then she walked off to her bedroom, not resurfacing for the rest of the night.

And of course I had no idea what she meant. At all.

And I had a math test the next day that I hadn't studied for. Great.