five
BRINLEY
My mom’s gaze doesn’t stray from Van. She looks him up and down, popping a grape from the bag into her mouth.
“Mom,” I say to remind her that I’m here too.
She blinks and smirks, turning her attention to me. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Van.” I motion to him with my hand out as if she hasn’t already been ogling him.
He approaches her, dodging the shopping cart. “Hello, Mrs. Kelly. I’m Van Adler.”
“Van Adler, huh? Are you the man my husband mentioned?”
Van side-eyes me and I inhale a deep breath. “We’re just getting groceries,” I say to change the subject.
“Oh.” She puts another grape in her mouth. “So, are you two dating?”
I feel as though I’m thirteen again at my first boy-and-girl dance and my mom just walked in and separated me from Jeremy Schmidt, putting a pill
