I quickly got dressed in my typical uniform of shorts and a T-shirt, but made it a little flirtier. I had started wearing slightly shorter shorts to work and busted out the crop tops. It was fun knowing I might see Tristan. I swiped on some lip gloss, along with some mascara–I still couldn’t deal with foundation in the swampy heat, though. A girl had her limits.
Looking in the mirror, I realized I was glowing. I would have to find a way not to look too excited downstairs at breakfast. I heard Mason was still here with Mom. I wanted to wait until they went to work, but I was already late.
“Morning,” I said, grabbing a mug for a cup of coffee.
I stood up at the counter across from them and poured some milk into my cereal.
“You look nice, honey,” said my mom.
“Yeah, you do,” Mason kept his tone neutral but was clearly suspicious.
“It’s nice to put a little effort in sometimes,” I said.
“This looks like extra, extra effort,” Mason said, miming he had a brush and was putting makeup on.
I rolled my eyes and threw him an exasperated look.
“I just want to feel good. And look good. Is that really so crazy?”
“Is this for the new guy?” Mason asked. My jaw dropped open, and I shot a bewildered look at my mom.
“Mom! Come on!”
My mom threw her hands up apologetically.
“I’m sorry, honey. I was just excited that you had started dating again. We all want this for you.”
I ate my bowl of cereal, irritated at my brother and my mother. I had no idea that my dating life was an exercise in family bonding.
“I’m never telling you anything ever again,” I told my mom, glaring. She had the nerve to look completely unbothered.
“Anyway, Arya, who’s the lucky guy?” asked Mason curiously.
“To be clear, we’re not dating. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just hanging out and seeing where things go.”
Mason waved away my explanation.
“I hear he’s from New Jersey?” he asked.
“I’m not telling you shit. You’re not my relationship guide or my therapist. You’ll both meet him if and when I want you to meet him. And I’ll tell you more about him if and when I want to. I’m single and I just like someone. Can’t I have any privacy in this house?”
I got up from the table, upset. I didn’t like when they ganged up on me to pry into my private life. But I knew it wasn’t all their fault. I was frustrated because things with me and Tristan were so unclear. I wanted to figure this whole mess out. I wanted to be able to tell them about him. But what would I tell them? ‘Oh, guess who fucked me in my bedroom last night while you all were sleeping?’ Yeah, that’d go over really well.
At the end of the day, I didn’t like this sneaking around and I wondered how long we would continue like this.
I took a breath, feeling bad for lashing out at Mason and Mom. They were just pleased for me, I could tell.
“I’m sorry. I need to go,” I said, rinsing my bowl and sticking it in the dishwasher.
“Honey, you’re not really mad, are you? We’re just happy for you,” my mom said, and I felt horrible.
“I’m not mad, but Mom, you told me this guy wasn’t a good idea. What changed?”
“I trust you to make good decisions for yourself. And you clearly seem like you're good with everything. That’s all I want for you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, and gave her a tight hug.
“But you,” I said, pointing at Mason. “You really need to be less concerned with my love life. You’re my brother. It’s weird. And don’t you have your own house? Maybe use it once in a while.”