“Oh! Um. I mean, I saw some talk online, and put two and two together. Is it true?”
“Yep. He won’t even look at me.”
“That doesn’t sound like him.”
“I know. I think I might’ve upset him.”
“And now that doesn’t sound like you.”
“Yeah, but things have been… different lately. I might’ve said something wrong accidentally or something. I don’t know.”
“Have you tried apologizing?”
“Yeah. He said I haven’t done anything wrong. But he’s treating me like we’re not even friends, and I don’t know what he wants from me. Or, I do, but it’s not really… it’s not something I’m sure I can give him.”
“Oh, wow. Did he try and hit on you?”
I can tell from her voice she already thinks he did. If I don’t cover this up, she’s going to figure out what we did. Mom has always been scarily astute; she knew Hannah and I were into each other even when I introduced her as just a friend. This conversation is suddenly a danger zone, and I need to get the fuck out.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Well, if he made a move and you turned him down, then he started giving you the silent treatment, that’s on him, not on you.”
“But…”
“No buts. You don’t owe him anything, it’s really important to me that you know that.”
“I know.”
I want to find some way, any way, to fix this conversation. Because now I’m throwing Ruben under the bus when I know he hasn’t done anything wrong, and it’s making me feel sick. Mom will remember this, and it will forever shape how she feels about Ruben.
“Listen,” she says. “I know you, and I know you wouldn’t ever say anything to hurt anyone’s feelings, and I’m sure you handled turning him down with grace. So if Ruben is being cold to you, it says more about him than it does about you.”
“Right.”
“Plus, the stress of the tour could be getting to him. People are complicated, it’s often more than one thing that’s upsetting them.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“So go easy on yourself, all right? It sounds like you’ve done nothing wrong. And Ruben will come around. Just make it clear you’re there for him, just as a friend.”
“I will. Anyway, I’m sorry to vent.”
“Don’t be. I’m sorry all this is happening. I hope it gets better.”
“Me, too. Thanks, Mom. This helped a lot, so thanks.”
“Of course! I’m always here for you. And if you ever want to talk more, you can, okay? About anything.”
“Yep, I know.”
“Okay, cool. Look after yourself, all right?”
“All right. I’ll let you go to bed. Night.”
“Night. Or, well, morning. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”