“Um, the only gloves I own.” I tried not to sound too sarcastic. It wasn’t her fault the stupid things were missing. “The short yellow ones. Bright, stretchy, kinda cheap-looking.”
“Oh, those,” Mom said, discarding amber for vermillion, “Did you check the hamper?”
Jogging to the laundry room, I rifled through the basket of dirty clothes. “Not here, either.” I’d known it was a long shot. I hadn’t worn them out in a while—not since my X-men themed eleventh birthday party—and besides, I suspected the shoddy material wouldn’t hold up in the wash. Walking back, I muttered, “I could’ve sworn I laid them out last night on my dresser.”
“Did you look to make sure they weren’t on the floor somewhere?”
I nodded. “Yeah, even checked behind the headboard.” Sighing, I slid into the seat opposite her. “Guess I’ll just have to go without them. Hooker’s going to be disappointed. You know she goes all out for this stuff.”
“Don’t worry,” Mom said as she bound a few squares together. Looked like she was going with shamrock and orange peel with an accent of deep gold. Not bad, considering what she had to work with. “Lillian won’t—”
“Won’t what?” I mumbled, picking at the table as I waited for Mom to answer. When she didn’t, I looked up and caught her staring at me. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Sally...what happened to your hair?”
“Oh.” I instinctively raised a hand to my brown locks. “I just used some hot rollers and teased it a little. Put some baby powder on the front strand to look more Rogue-ish—Rogue circa the ‘90s cartoon series not major motion picture Rogue. Do you like it?”
“I’m not sure,” Mom said with a small frown. “It makes you look...older, somehow.”
“Thanks a lot,” I said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. Over the hill at seventeen. My life just kept getting better and better. Standing, I brushed the remaining wrinkles out of my black X-Men tee. The gloves would’ve completed the ensemble, but oh well. This would have to do. “Alright Mom, I’m gonna head out.”
Mom glanced at her watch. “But it’s not even eleven yet.”
“Hooker wanted to meet early to get good seats.”
“But what about the gloves?” Mom said, following me to the door. “Don’t you want to check again?”
“No, that’s okay.” I gave her a peck on the cheek. “Hooker will just have to deal. Love you, Mom.”
“But Sally, can’t you just wait...”
Before she could say more, I opened the door...and saw the boy with the sky blue Scion striding toward our house.
Through clenched teeth, I hissed, “Mom, tell me you didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” she said, but I wasn’t buying. Her smile was too bright, her manner too content, to be some innocent bystander. Then the truth, “Lillian did.”
“I told her no more dates.”
“She’s just trying to be a good friend, Sally. Who knows? He could be your soul mate.”
“If the first eight weren’t my soul mates, the odds aren’t in his favor,” I said. “Plus, I don’t want Hooker feeling like a third wheel.”
Mom’s look was shrewd. “And since when does Lillian go anywhere without a boy on her arm?”
She had a point, but...
“I’m not doing this.” I shook my head. “Not tonight.”
“Oh yes, you are,” Mom said, pushing me onto the porch as I tried to back away. “His name is Austin Harris. He’s a good boy, according to Lillian, and I promised I’d make sure you left together. Now—” She slipped something into my hand. “—go out and have some fun.”
The door slammed. Unbelievable. Mom had literally thrown me out of the house. As I heard the lock click into place, I looked at what she’d given me.
The yellow gloves. She must’ve taken them out of my room sometime this afternoon while I was at school.
My mom, the calculating mastermind.
The thought nearly made me grin, but by then Austin had made his way to the door.
“Hi,” he said smiling, reaching out a hand, “I’m Austin. I ran into Lillian at the bookstore, and I guess she thought—well, yeah.”
“Sally,” I said, shaking his hand. Austin had the body of a surfer/swim model with a face to match. I couldn’t figure out why he was being so nice. Boys who looked like Austin rarely were. But after eyeing him more closely, I noticed…was that a pocket protector? I’d thought those were a myth. And his dark blue tie, which he wore loose over a white, untucked button-down was actually imprinted with the Hogwarts seal. “You like Harry Potter?” I asked, nodding to it.