Page 39 of Jaded

You want me to tell her I accidentally kissed one of my co-workers?I ask Edward, silently of course, because even Mom would be worried if she heard me address a cactus as such.

Edward, for his part, doesn’t hesitate.Yes.

And that I can’t get him out of my head.

Yep.

Even though he’s—did I forget this—straight, and it means nothing?

Abso-fruitly.

You’re tripping.

Am I?

No, I am, because I’m arguing with a dragon fruit. And losing.

“And the coach,” Mom says, like I’m not entirely engaged in a separate and utterly unhinged conversation here. Not that she knows. I hope. That’d be a trip.

“Coach is good,” I say.

“And you’re still seeing Dr. Huxton on the Zoom?”

“It’s been a week,” I sigh. But then I add, “Yes, I have an appointment scheduled with him on Monday.”

“Good. He’s helped you so much.” She’s right; I’ve been with Dr. Huxley a long, long time. And a lot of other therapists before that. I’ve had therapy my whole life, really.

When your fatherless kid pendulums between being a pinball of energy and a sappy sadhouse of tears and fears, you put him in therapy, amiright? And hockey, ’cause ADHD.

“Sure,” I say. But I’m teetering on the edge of instead saying,Mom, I’m sad and lonely and I’m scared I’m gonna have another episode and I want to tell you about this guy.

She’d put her paintbrush down and her mom cap on and say,Aw, sweetie. Talk to me. And this “tell me everything” she would mean.

But the whole time, she’d be staring at her painting.

“Something wrong, Aspen?” Mom asks, and by the slightly concerned lilt in her voice, I can tell she’s dangerously close to putting down her brush to hunt out her mom cap.

I sigh. “No. The usual. Just a bit lonely.”

Tabitha glares with all the raging force and surprising venom of a true miniature saguaro.Yes, yes, sorry old gal. I do have you.

“You know I’m here if you want to talk.”

“I know. I love you too, Mom.”

“But also, why are you here, talking to me, when you should be out making friends, dancing the night away, grinding up on—”

“Yeah, it’s noon here.” I roll my eyes even though nobody but Tabitha, Bertha, and Edward can see me.

“Right. Yes. Of course. I forget about the time difference now that you’re not in Florida.”

“And I have to leave for a game shortly.”

“A game!” Mom actually sounds interested in that. In her usual distant Mom way. “Are you starting?”

“Nah, not this one.” I trace a finger along the rim of Tabitha’s pot. “I’m not technically on the active roster yet, so Coach has me sitting and observing.”

“Oh. Right.”

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