Page 23 of Try Hard
The room was technically mine—that was still what they called it—but it had been a long time since I’d moved most of my stuff out of it. When they’d redecorated, they’d asked for my input, but, to my mind, it was their house and they were welcome to decorate it however they wanted. I’d participated in the decisions more because I could tell it was weird for them, decorating their only child’s bedroom after she’d moved out, than from any personal ownership I felt over the space. Perhapsif I didn’t spend my life moving around so much I’d have felt more attached to it, but, despite having an apartment I called home, nothing felt especially permanent. Not to mention the idea of a bedroom I decorated as a teen being kept the same for decades felt odd. My parents enjoyed keeping the house fresh. They didn’t need a teen room from the early 2000s.
There was a knock at the door, right as I moved to turn the TV on, and my mum waited a second for me to answer before she opened the door with a smile. She crept into the room like she was trying to avoid getting in trouble and held up a mug for me, handing it over as she sat on the edge of the bed. “I thought you might like this.”
I smiled, placing the mug carefully on the bedside table. Homemade hot chocolate.
She placed a hand on my knee through the layers of blanket. “Are you doing okay?”
I nodded. “Great. Just a little tired.”
“You’re not coming down with something, are you?”
I shook my head but allowed her to press the back of her hand against my forehead. “I’m completely fine. Nothing a good night’s rest won’t fix.”
Her eyes ran over my face, studying me. “Your dad said you ran into Eve today…”
I could hear the question in her tone and I fought the urge to frown. I’d never talked to her about Eve Archer’s… inadvertent assistance in realising I was bi, but I wouldn’t put it past my mother to have known. She always seemed to know everything.
I pushed myself up in the bed, picking the mug back up and sipping it. The first mouthful was mostly just whipped cream, but it was sweet and rich, and the mug was warm. I cradled it close to my chest.
“It would be reasonable,” my mum continued, “to feel a little out of sorts after something like that.”
“Something like what?” I asked curiously. If she was going to bring the topic up, she couldn’t really get away with being cagey.
She relaxed, shaking her head. “Fine. Running into someone we once had feelings for is always difficult.”
“Feelingsimplies a much more serious relationship than anything that ever existed between us, Mum.”
“Maybe, but it’s hard to forget your first love, even if you’ve moved on.”
I laughed, grateful I hadn’t taken another sip of my drink. “She wasnotmy first love.”
“Are you sure?” She frowned deeply.
“Yes! I had a little crush on her, realised I was bi, and that was that.”
“If you say so…” she ventured, sceptically. “It was a crush that lasted quite a long time, though. Longer thanjusta crush might.”
My chest felt uncomfortably tight as I pressed the warmth of my mug harder into it. “So glad you kept track of that.”
She smiled at me, her eyes crinkling. “You’re my daughter, Fia. Of course I pay attention.”
I hummed, hoping to get out of the conversation. I, categorically, had not been in love with Eve Archer. Sure, I’d had a crush—just like half the other kids at school—but that was all it had been. And years had passed since then. The fact that my mother even remembered was more than a little embarrassing. I imagined most people hoped their family politely forgot their more shameful formative years and actions.
I sipped my drink again, watching her. It tasted like bribery.
“It would be okay if seeing her again threw you,” she said, and I could hear something optimistic in her voice. “Even if you’re long over her, it would be understandable that seeing her brought those feelings rushing back. Or if, you know, the opposite happened and made you feel uncomfortable.”
“It didn’t make me feel any kind of way,” I lied, keeping my expression impassive.
“Your dad said you spent quite a lot of time together, that you went for a walk and everything.”
“We did,” I allowed. “But I don’t know whether that means anything. Dad was out there with all his friends. He spent a lot of time talking to Jeremy, for example, and I don’t think he’s harbouring a secret love for Eve’s dad.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I’m certain he’s not, but you’re allowed to have feelings, you know?”
I bobbed my head, almost nodding. “So I’ve heard. I promise I’m fine, though. I’m just tired and a little cold. Back to normal tomorrow, I promise.”
She sighed, squeezing my knee again. “Well, okay. But, if you want to talk, I’m here.”
