Page 47 of You Started It

I’ve never really had another guy confess to liking me before. With Ben, we sort of just fit together like two puzzle pieces. We made sense. Axel, who apparently has his pick of anyone in our school, has a crush on me. But why?

As for me, liking Axel back, even just a little bit, pulls me away from my endgame. It’s like Ben is the right answer to the math problem but solving the equation is difficult. Axel may not be on the other end of the equal sign, but everything leading up to the response is a lot more fun. And for some reason, makes me happier.

Mom cuts my salami sandwich in half and I wash a bowl of strawberries for us to share. We sit across from one another at the table.

“I’m having dinner at Axel’s and then we’re going to the Blue Rodeo concert.”

Mom sits up straight, her face slightly scrunched. “Blue Rodeo? I didn’t think you were into that kind of music.”

“You mean old music?” I smile.

She smiles back. “Yeah. I guess I mean old music.”

“I’m not, but Axel is helping me check some items off my bucket list. And one of those items was to watch a concert at Budweiser Stage. This is the last one of the season, so we’re taking what we can get.”

“I see.” She bites into her sandwich and washes it down with water. “Well, just be careful down there. Driving in that part of the city can be kind of tricky.”

“I will.” Although, I’m not even certain how we’re getting there, and oddly, I’m not that worried. Maybe because I have other things occupying my brain.

“So.” She pauses. “Dinner with his parents?”

Here we go. I bite into my sandwich and wait for Mom’s cynical flood of words to come at me.

“Things must be getting pretty serious,” she says, her tone lukewarm. She doesn’t want me to be able to read her, except she doesn’t seem to know I can read her better than anyone else. We may not share the same viewpoints on a lot of things, but we do share DNA.

“It’s nothing formal. I had to turn down their first invite so when his mother asked me again, I said yes because I didn’t want to be rude. Anyway, I ate at Ben’s all the time.”

“That’s different. Everything is formal with Arabs.” Mom takes another bite while her brown eyes peer into mine, all judgmental like.

Don’t take the bait. Don’t take the bait.

“So what if it is?” I ask, taking the bait. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Would it be such a bad thing if you tried being single for once in your teen years? I thought your generation had moved past all of this.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Mix white feminism with selective Gen Z rhetoric to try to shame me for wanting to experience…to want to have…to…never mind.” I hate that she stumped me.

“Let’s drop it, okay? I’m the bitter old lady and you’re the young, beautiful girl full of potential.”

Oh great. The passive-aggressive guilt trip. Been a while since I’ve been on this ride.

“I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?” I ask. “I’ll always be the reason you didn’t get the life you wanted. I could do everything right, and you’ll still find something to criticize.”

“Jamie.”

“It’s fine.” I rise from the table. “I’m actually not that hungry.”

“You’re right,” Mom says as I walk out of the kitchen. I pause in the doorway, my hands gripping the frame as I wait for her to continue. “Your life is full of so much promise. And I’m afraid you’re going to let it all go because of a boy. Like I did.”

I turn to face her. “And a baby.”

Her face falls. “I don’t regret having you. Would I recommend people follow in my footsteps? No. Do I want more for you? Yes.”

“Why do you dislike Axel so much?”

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