“Wow.”I stop mid-step, totally thrown.I’m used to her yelling at me, but not likethis.She’s in a red dress with a low neckline, her hair pinned up with a few curls falling loose around her face, and she’s wearing red heels.
“Mom, you look… amazing,” I whisper, still staring.
“Save it.We’re late.”She huffs, slipping into her coat.
“Where are we even going?”I stride, following her out to the car, still confused.
“Oh, for God’s sake.I told you, we’re having dinner at a nice restaurant.”
“Wow, Mom.You win the lottery or something?”I tease.She’s never taken me to a fancy place before.
“Yeah, let’s just say that.”She chuckles, giving my shoulder a firm pat.
* * *
“Listen, don’t talk too much.Answer when asked, but otherwise, keep your mouth shut,” my mom whispers in my ear as we walk into the restaurant.
“Who exactly are we meeting?”I frown, already uncomfortable with her keeping this a secret.
“Oh, for God’s sake, just stop talking, please,” she groans.Then we reach the table the waiter has led us.
My eyes go wide.My mouth drops open so fast I hiccup instantly.“Amy?”The blonde girl’s eyes widen too when she sees me.
Next to her, an older guy smiles, stands up, kisses my mom on the cheek, and wraps an arm around her waist.What the hell is going on?My brain feels like someone just set fire to all my manga.Cold sweat slides down my back, but we move on and sit like this is just another cozy Christmas dinner.
“Clark?”
“Yeah?Hick.”
God, I can’t stop hiccupping.The steak is amazing—perfectly cooked—but I can’t even taste it because I keep dropping my fork and knife.My palms are so sweaty it’s ridiculous.
“You and Amy go to the same school, right?You’ve met her before?”Mr.Schmidt asks.
“Yeah, we’re in the same chemistry study group.Hick.”
God, this is torture.We’re in full Q&A mode, and I’m hiccupping through every answer.I gulp down water to make it stop.
“Clark got caught in a plagiarism case with one of my roommates on a final project, but I convinced the teacher to forgive them.”
What?I choke, water shooting up my nose, and start coughing, spraying half of it back into my glass.That’s not true!
“Ugh, gross,” Amy hisses, scrunching her nose.
“Clark, are you okay, honey?”my mom says, grabbing a napkin and wiping my chin and suit.She pats my back too.Since when is she this gentle?What the hell is happening?
“Yeah, Mom.”I wipe my face and cough a few more times before getting it under control.When I finally sit still, Mr.Schmidt smiles again.
“You okay, son?”he asks.
“Yes, sir.I’m good.Thanks.”
“See?He’s so clumsy and gullible.That’s why I always have to look out for him at school,” Amy says, sliding in to steal her dad’s attention.
“That’s good, Amy.That’s a noble thing to do.Everyone makes mistakes, but they deserve forgiveness and a second chance,” he says, patting her hand.“I’m really glad you two already get along.That makes things easier.”He laughs.
I sit up, sensing they’re about to drop something big.
“So… We met during your school’s early enrollment.Her high heels broke and she fell right in front of me in the principal’s lobby… one thing led to another, and… we fell in love.”Mr.Schmidt gives a small smile.
