I try to swallow, but all I can manage is choking on my own spittle. “I try to stay away from social media. Baxter has someone who posts for me.”
Mom balks. “My famous son. Has your girl seen it?”
“She isn’t my girl.” But then, I’m guessing she hasn’t, or she would have mentioned it. Besides, she told me she’s been staying off of social media for a while—until her video with Paul calms down. “Mom, I just don’t want you to worry?—”
“Worry that my son is kissing andnotdating? Because?—”
“No.” I clear my throat. I hadn’t planned to get into this, but I need to. “Fran’s coming home with me, but she’s just a friend. It’s not going to be a repeat of Simone.”
“I know that. I’m not worried about that. You won’t let that happen again.”
“I won’t. You’re too important to me,” I tell her. “And I can’t believe I let it happen the first time around.”
“Callum, sweetheart, calm your fears. I’m not worried. I know you. You rarely make the same mistake twice.” She sighs. “So, is this the reason you are kissing but not dating? Because you’re worried about me?”
“No. Um—” I cough. “I guess we are dating. Sort of. I’m helping her with some dating…tactics, and the guys are convinced that kissing Fran before my games helps me play better.”
Mom laughs. “Well, you have scored more goals in the last few weeks than you have in months.”
“I have.”
“That isn’t because you’re kissing someone, son.”
“I know that. And yet?—”
“And yet, what?” Mom pauses. She’ll wait all day for an answer if she needs to.
“And yet, I can’t deny that hanging out with Fran seems to ease my doubts. And I play better.”
“So, who is she?”
“Just a friend,” I say, but my lips are still buzzing with that make-out session. “One I invited home for the weekend.”
“Well, good. I’m anxious to meet thisfriendwho puts you at ease and helps you play better.” Mom huffs. “You know, the only reason you need help being put at ease is because that Simone was so tightly wound. She got in your head. She was?—”
“Toxic. Yeah, you and Zev agree in that area.”
“Aw, Zevulun. I love that boy. He agrees with me about everything. Why can’t Zev come home with you?”
“He’s busy, Mom. The girl. I actually called with a question.”
“I am all ears, my boy.”
“Fran and I have become friends—pretty good friends?—”
“Kissing friends,” Mom says.
I clear my throat. “Well, kind of. Yes. We’re friends. I’ve told her that I’m good on my own. And yet?—”
“You’re kissing the girl.”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of? Callum Whitaker, be forthright with me. I don’t know whatsort ofkissing is. I know what plain old kissing is. I know what hot and bothered kissing is. Butsort ofkissing is not in my vocabulary.”
“Fine. Just kissing.”
“And what were the circumstances around these kissing incidents?”
