Chapter 17: VIII. Confessions-1

Chapter VIII – Confessions I stared at her, bewildered. I couldn't have heard her correctly. She did not just tell me that I was never to see Shea again based on two minutes of conversation. Two minutes in which he had composed himself pretty well considering she had all but strapped him up to a polygraph machine. "I'm sorry, what?" I had to have heard her wrong. She would clarify. Mom's eyes narrowed, and she held her index finger up to me, as if I was a naughty child eating candy before dinner. "You are never to see that boy again," she repeated sternly. "He is not good for you. I forbid it." My mother had never spoken to me like this before. She had scolded me, of course, but this was something else. Her tone was fierce, yet fearful. Her eyes were wild, and full of apprehension. Her entire body was rigid. It was as if flames were about to erupt from her ears any moment. She sensed danger, but why? "You … you forbidit?" I managed to choke out. I was in utter disbelief. "What are you afraid of? That I'll get pregnant? Come on, Mom. You know me. You raised me better than that." "You heard me, Saraphine," she hissed, once again using my full name. "I made it clear from the start. No boys. Not until you finish high school. Especially not that boy." She pointed at the front door, as if Shea was still standing there. Little did she know, Shea was probably already in my bedroom, listening to the hellfire that my mother was spitting at him. She was making me angry. I was not stupid. I wasn't going to get pregnant. Shea was well aware of where I stood on the subject of a physical relationship. "What is so wrong about Shea?" I demanded to know. "It was good of him to come to you first before we go out tomorrow." Mom laughed sarcastically. "That boy is dangerous, Sara," she insisted. "I won't have you anywhere near him. Going out with him is out of the question. No." She shook her head. "Dangerous?" I scoffed. "Shea has been nothing but kind and decent to me," I insisted, repeating my words of praise. "He helped me get my job!" I exclaimed. "He helped me to settle in at school and to feel comfortable." People no longer stared at me. Only us, now. "I even told him I'm not comfortable with a physical relationship yet, and he is fine with that!" "Oh, Sara. Don't be so naïve. He's already got his hooks in you. Of course every teenage boy is going to tell you that he's happy to wait. That is until he gets drunk at a party, much like the one he's attending tomorrow night, and decides to force his good, innocent, all too trusting girlfriend into submission." Was my mother on something? Where had this person come from? She was usually the most kind, loving and supportive mom around. I loved her to pieces. She would do anything for me, and anything for her patients. But where did this hate for Shea come from? Was it him, or was it boys in general? "I'm not naïve," I snapped. "And I'm going out with Shea. You can't stop me." I could not believe where this conversation had gone. I was not this girl. I was not the rebel who flouted her parents. But my mom wasn't this person either. She didn't just blow up without a good reason. Fear of teenage pregnancy just seemed too far-fetched. "You are my daughter, and what I say goes," Mom said firmly. "I would never do anything that wasn't for the benefit of your safety." "My safety?" I exclaimed. "What are you talking about? Do you think Shea is going to hurt me?" "Yes!" cried Mom. "He is dangerous, Sara!" she insisted. "In what way?" I challenged, folding my arms across my chest. If she replied with teenage boy hormones, I was actually going to lose it more than I already had. But Mom didn't say anything. She just stared at me with a lost, fearful expression. We stood silently for a few moments, just staring at each other, processing what the other had said. "Shea is important to me," I said slowly, after a while. "We are going out tomorrow night, and any other night that he asks. I want you to actually get to know him, Mom. He's a good person. He loves his family. He looks after his mom and his sister. For some reason, he cares about me, too." "It's too late," whispered Mom. "I should never have brought you back here." In a move that floored me, she started to cry, and she came over to hug me. She held onto me so tightly that she was starting to restrict my lungs. But I didn't move. "Mom," I whispered. "It's okay." Was she afraid of losing me? Was this some crazy reaction to her thinking she was losing me? Shea and I weren't getting married. We were just going on a date. I still had another year of high school, and then college. I had years before I would even start thinking of marriage. I was an only child. And she had been widowed young. Maybe this was why she had reacted so insanely. She didn't like Shea because he was a threat to our relationship. But he wasn't. She would see that. Mom let go of me and turned back towards the door. "I'm just going to go to the market, Sara. We need juice. We're out." And she grabbed her keys and left. In seconds, Shea was behind me, hugging me comfortingly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered in my ear remorsefully. I burst into tears and turned into his chest, promptly soaking his nice shirt with my crying. "I mean, what the hell, right?" I cried emotionally, my voice cracking. "I shouldn't have come over. I didn't think she'd react like that. I'm so sorry, Sara," Shea continued to apologise. "I didn't expect her to feel that way." "She doesn't," I insisted. "She's just afraid of losing me. She doesn't know you from a bar of soap. She can't judge you. She's just trying to stop me from leaving her. It's just been me and her for so long. You pose a threat to her is all." But that didn't make it any better. Mom and I weren't okay. And I wasn't okay with that. I didn't know how to make it better. Well, I did, but I wasn't about to stop seeing Shea just to put Mom's fear of losing me to rest. The fact of the matter was that just because I might grow up and get my own life someday, it didn't mean that I was lost to her. She was my mom. I was always going to need her. "You haven't changed you mind, have you?" I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand so that I could see clearly. "No, of course not." Shea wiped some lingering tears away with his thumb. "It will be okay," he promised me. "I'll win her over. I'll show her I'm not dangerous or anything."