Page 56 of The Devil Wears Tartan

My mum appears in the entryway a moment later with a plate and dishtowel still clutched in her hands, her grey-streaked brown hair tied back with a tartan headband.

Of course she’s wearing a tartan headband.

“Oh, wow! Something tells me you’re not just hanging out with friends.” She shifts the plate around so she can make air quotes with one of her hands. I wince again.

“Uh, well...”

She makes a clucking sound. “Okay, okay, I get it. Annoying mum is butting out now. Just be safe, okay? Whatever you’re doing.”

She makes a show out of backing away slowly. I groan, but just before she steps into the living room, I tell her to wait.

“Do I, uh, look okay?” I ask.

“Oh, honey!” She sighs and rests the plate on her hip. “You look stunning. You’re so beautiful, and so grown up!”

“Grown up, right,” I say with a self-deprecating laugh.

She tuts. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean...” I gesture around the entryway. “No offence, but I am heading out to start my Saturday night from my parents’ house—my parents who are technically also my bosses.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

I sigh. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, but you have to admit, it sounds a little pathetic.”

“Honey, you’re not pathetic! You have a great life and big dreams. There’s not a single pathetic thing about you.”

Do I have big dreams?

I have dreams. They’re just not about anything bigger than what I’ve already got.

“I’m proud of you,” my mum adds.

That at least makes the corners of my mouth lift as warmth blooms in my chest. “Thanks.”

“Now get out of here! Go have fun with Kenzie.”

I freeze. “Wh-what?”

She covers her mouth and laughs. “Whoops. Guess I was right. I just thought maybe...”

“We’re hanging out to talk about the scholarship,” I blurt. “As friends.”

It’s such a pathetic lie she doesn’t even call me out on it. Instead, she props one of her hands on her hip and nods.

“If you ask me—which I know you didn’t—I’ve always thought that’s exactly what Kenzie needs: a friend. That girl is so tough, but I’ve taught enough highland dancers to know when a kid just needs a hug. I think that’s always been Kenzie.”

My neck gets all hot as I try very hard not to think about how much more than hugging I’ve got planned for Kenzie tonight.

“Uh, right, yeah. For sure. I gotta go now.”

My mum’s laugh follows me out of the house.

* * *

I get off the bus on Rideau Street and make the quick walk over to the bar in the Byward Market Kenzie picked out. The slushy sidewalks are packed with people starting their Saturday nights, all huddled in their coats as they head for the crowded restaurants and pubs of the market.

I don’t come over here very much, and I’ve never even heard of the bar Kenzie suggested. I keep pulling out my phone to check the map even though the walk from the bus station is basically one straight line.

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