Mom Rules The Roost
“No way!” I whined. “You can’t make me go out with him.” I stormed into the dining room. Of course, Mom followed me.
“Chloe Elizabeth, this is a nice thing to do. Stop being such a brat.”
“I’m not. Mom, he’s—”
“A little shy, that’s all. Collin’s mother is always telling me at our book-club meeting how wonderful she thinks you are—so smart and pretty—and how much she wishes her Collin would find a nice girl like you. So I just thought, what could be the harm in you two at least getting to know each other better? I swear, Chloe, if you don’t go on this date, how could I ever face his mother again? It would be humiliating.”
Why does she have to be so good at guilt trips? “Mom, but he’s—he’s, I don’t know . . . weird.”
“Chloe, I am not asking you to marry the guy, all right? One date, okay? One. You won’t die, I promise.” Mom sighed as she sat down at the dining room table. “This is something that children do for their parents and for their parents’ friends, and that’s that.”
“But Mom, he talks about odd stuff and everybody always stares at him.” I tried again. “I can’t believe you would actually plan a date for me without even asking me!” Frustrated, I sat down on a chair facing her.
“You will be nice to that boy, Chloe. I mean it! Not one rude thing better come out of your mouth.”
“You know I’ll be nice to him. That’s not the point. The point which you seem to be forgetting here is that you scheduled a date for me on a night when I already have one.”
“Again, if you had talked to me and had written it on the calendar like you were supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“For crying out loud, Mom. This is Blake Winter we’re talking about. He’s coming over tomorrow to meet you guys, just so he can take me out Saturday night. And now I’ve got a date with Collin.”
“Chloe—”
“A date my mother scheduled today after I had already promised Blake. What am I supposed to do?”
“This is not open for discussion, Chloe. You are going with Collin.”
Cassidy chose that precise moment to saunter in. Personally, I thought it was pretty bold until . . . I’ve got it! “Why can’t Cassidy go with Collin?” I pleaded, looking directly at my sister. “We could even double.” Come on, Cass, work with me!
Cassidy giggled and began to gag. I pretended to hand her a brown paper bag, which she mimed throwing up in. It was an old joke of ours, but for some reason it never worked with Mom.
“Very funny, girls,” she said, her face completely serious.
“Please, Mom. Me and Cass together?”
“Chloe, this is ridiculous. You know the rules. You know that your father and I won’t allow anyone living in this house to date before they’re sixteen. Cassidy, in case you have forgotten, is fifteen.”
I rolled my eyes at Cass’s unsympathetic “sorry” gesture. “No, I didn’t forget. I thought maybe you’d make an exception, though. I mean, she looks seventeen, so no one would know.” I tried one last time as Cassidy smugly waved goodbye to me behind Mom.
“His mother asked about you, Chloe. You’re going with him.”
Resigned to my fate, I moaned. “Fine. Blake left his number, right? I guess I’ll call him back.”
I grumbled under my breath as I picked up the phone and the slip of paper with his number. I carried them into my room, then plopped on the bed and started to dial.
“Hello?” he answered after a few rings.
“Hi, Blake, this is Chloe. Sorry I missed your call.”
“No problem. I was wondering what time you wanted me over tomorrow for dinner.”
“Well, 5:30, but—”
“Sounds good. I should be able to make it.”
“Uh, well, that’s the thing, I’m not sure you’re going to want to make it.” I plunged ahead before I lost my nerve. “Actually, I have some bad news. I mean, you’re still welcome to come tomorrow . . . It’s just that I can’t go out with you on Saturday.”
“Why not?”
This is so embarrassing. “Uh, my mom has gone all commando on me and totally set me up with this guy Collin, who drives me nuts. So I have to go with him instead of you, but could I maybe get a rain check?”
“You’re kidding! Can’t you beg or something?”
“Okay, yeah. Tried. Seriously, she is so like a war general sometimes. Right now she’s been workin’ the guilt factor. She’s in this book club with his mom.”
“Book club?” Blake sounded amused.
I’d take amused over mad or hurt any day. “Yep. And apparently my mom will never be able to show her face again if I back out, so . . .”
“So what’s he like?
“Collin?”
“Yeah, a guy’s gotta know his competition, right?”
“You think Collin is competition?” I blurted out.
“He’s a guy, right?”
“Yes. I guess you could call him that.”
“And he’s going out with you instead of me,” Blake said. “He’s competition. So what’s he like?”
“Oh. He’s . . . er, I don’t know. He’s, like, not all there, you know?”
“Is he as good looking as me?”
“As you? Hmm. I guess he’s cute, but more in a loner sort of way.”
“Oh, well, cute? Cute, I got beat.”
“You sure about that? Just because you’ve got dimples, don’t think it’s in the bag.”
Blake groaned. “Don’t remind me. I hate my dimples.”
“What? Why? Every girl loves dimples.”
“So you’re saying you like them, then?”
“Uh, maybe.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He laughed into the receiver, and I shuddered. There was something about his voice that turned my insides into jelly.
“So, do you still plan to come for dinner tomorrow?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t miss it. What are your parents like?”
“Um, they’re sort of crazy.”
“Crazy?”
I laughed. “Well, they just like to put the guys who date me through some sort of a dating ritual thing.”
“Dating ritual?” Blake sounded surprised. “What do you mean? What’s it like? Is there anything I need to know?”
“Just go with it. You’ll be fine.”
“Okay, come on, Chloe. Can’t you give me more than that?”
“You definitely need a sense of humor to survive.”
“All right, so I need a sense of humor.”
“The funnier you are, the better.”
“Wait. You mean I have to act funny? Like a monkey or something?”
“What? No! You think you’ll have to act like something?” I giggled.
“Very funny.” I could hear the grin in his voice. “How else am I supposed to act?”
“Like yourself.” Smiling, I got up off the bed and wandered over to my mirror.
“Myself?”
“Yep, be yourself and you’ll be fine.” I made a face at my haphazard hair.
“You know, you’re lucky I’m brave or this could really begin to scare me,” Blake said.
I wonder if he likes red hair. I sprung a curl and answered, “Scare you? No, it’s not scary. Just, um, funny.”
“So, you guys are going to make fun of me or something?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I never know what they’re planning to do. Stop being so curious. I promise, you’ll live.” As I turned to plunk back on the bed, my knee collided with the corner of my dresser. Ouch! “Oh, sh–sugar!”
“Sugar? Did you say sugar?” I could tell Blake was trying not to laugh.
“Not always.”
“Oh?”
“No. Sometimes I say ‘sugar plum fairies.’”
He snorted. “You say ‘sugar plum fairies’ instead of—”
“Don’t say it!”
“—shoot.”
“Oh, I thought you were going to say something else.”
“I thought about it,” he said.
“You did?”
“Yep, but I changed it at the last minute. I didn’t want you to get mad and say ‘sugar’ or something.”
“Ha ha. Good one.”
“So why don’t you say, uh, the other word?”
“Oh, because—”
“Because of your parents?”
“No. Well, yeah, but mostly because I’d rather be unique and different than follow the crowd.” Oh my gosh! What am I saying? Blake is so going to think I’m a dork now. “Anyway, I know it’s kind of childish to say ‘sugar,’ but I always have, so it’s—”
“Chloe!” my mom yelled.
Thank you, Mom. “Uh, Blake, I’ve gotta go. My mom’s calling me.”
“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay. See ya tomorrow. Don’t forget to be funny. Bye.”
“Bye. Oh, uh, Chloe?”
“Yeah?”
“Just for the record, I like that you’re unique. Besides, it sounds cute when you say ‘sugar.’”
My heart stopped and then flip-flopped. “Really?” He thinks I sound cute?
“Yes. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye.” I sighed and fell back onto my pillows as I hung up the phone. A girl could kiss a guy like that.
“Chloe Elizabeth!” My mother’s exasperated shout sliced through my daydreams of kissing Blake.
“Coming,” I called, wishing for just three minutes of privacy. It’s not every day a girl gets told she sounds cute.
My mom was still in the dining room. She was sitting next to my dad.
“There you are, Chloe. Have a seat.” Dad pointed to the chair opposite him.
Wondering if we were having some sort of family conference, I sat down hesitantly. “What’s up?” My parents only did this gang-up thing if they needed to tell one of their kids something upsetting.
“Well I’ve just checked my email.” Mom paused, obviously waiting for me to speak up. When I didn’t, she went on, “It seems you were caught reading a note in your English class today.”
You’re kidding me. Mr. Young emailed my parents? That is so harsh. “Um, yeah. I was.” Great. So what’s it going to be, grounding for life?
“Your father and I” —she looked over at my dad as if to include him— “think it’s time for you to take some responsibility.”
“Okay.”
“Four-wheeling instead of doing your homework, talking on the phone all evening, reading notes in class.” My dad raised a finger for each of the things he listed, as if he was counting them off.
“So? What do you want me to do?”
“We think it would be a good idea for you to get a job. It’s been almost three weeks since the theater group broke up. Playtime is over, Chloe.” My mom gave me a knowing look.
Needless to say, after the “talk” with my folks, I called up Ms. Chavez at the dance studio to ask for my old job back. She said I could start Monday. I asked for weekends and Wednesdays off so I could still go on dates, just in case a certain someone felt like asking me out again after this weekend’s test and my blatant rejection of our first date.
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