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“I, uh… I know it’s late,” I said lamely, taking a slow step toward her. My legs were a bit wobbly, my inner muscles sore, soI couldn't risk walking much further. She might ask me what was wrong, and though she and I were close and she wasn’t nearly as strict and boring and adult-like as my parents, I didn’t think I could tell her,I just got absolutely railed by three hot bullies! Not sure I’ll be able to walk straight ever again, ha-ha, how was your day?
“Damn right it is,” Lynette said, standing up but quickly losing steam. She always said she was a lover, not a fighter. She heaved a great sigh, swiping a frustrated hand over her hair. “You want some tea?”
This was part of her famous Cool Aunt routine, which I wasn’t really in the mood for, but some tea really did sound nice right about now. I followed Aunt Lynette to the kitchen and plopped down at the counter while she fiddled with the kettle. She brought a large glass jar full of different tea bags with her when she came to stand across from me, leaning forward to hand it to me. “Pick whatever you like, hon. Let’s chat.”
“There’s nothing to reallychatabout—” I started, but she cut me off.
“What, can’t I chat with my niece just because, without having something specific in mind? You haven’t been around much, kiddo, and I feel out of the loop.” She gave me a sad smile, gesturing for me to pick a tea. I dug into the jar and found something herbal with notes of peach and ginger.
“Listen, Iamin charge of you right now, so I’ve gotta lay into you a bit about coming home so late, alright? Although I guess we never set a specific curfew, so it’s partially my fault.”
“So, this is your fault, then? Sweet. I like that logic,” I joked, and she stuck her tongue out at me like she used to do from across the table at Thanksgiving when I was a child. It made me smile.
“You’re a good girl, Jade, so I’m not trying to call you out for smoking pot or, God forbid, running around at all hoursof the night with a bunch ofboys.” She’d adopted a playfully scandalized tone as she said that last bit, so I knew she wasn’t even fishing for information. But it had always been nearly impossible for me to hide things from my aunt—she was too damn perceptive, and I wore all my feelings plainly on my face. When my wince and red cheeks registered, her green eyes—the shade a precise match for mine—grew wide. “Oh, so thereisa boy!”
Three, actually, but who’s counting?
“Aunt Lynette,pleasedon’t make it a big deal,” I groaned, and luckily, the kettle started to whistle then, so she busied herself with making our tea.
“Flower mug?” she asked me, holding up the yellow-and-green floral mug I liked best from her cabinet, and I agreed. She brought it over with a jar of local honey and a cool honeycomb spoon for drizzling, because of course she remembered I liked honey in my tea. Funny, if it wasn’t about my academic achievements, I was sure my mom couldn't recall minute details like that about me if you paid her.
Aunt Lynette doctored her own black tea with oat milk and honey, and for a long second, we stirred our spoons, clanking them quietly against the porcelain. It carried through the otherwise-silent house, and soon ,her gray-and-white cat Gizmo came bounding into the kitchen, weaving his way between the legs of my barstool, trying to rub against my feet.
“Aw, look, honey! Even Gizmo wants to hear all about this boy you’re seeing. I hope he’s better than that last one, don’t you, bud?” She was talking to the cat, who came to circle her at the sound of his name, but her comment about Owen still made me snort.
“Aunt Lyn! Stop!” I laughed, and she smiled at me.
“What? I thought we hated Omar.”
“Owen,” I corrected her through giggles. “We do hate him. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Aunt Lynette agreed with a solemn nod. She took a long sip from her tea, then shot a sideways glance my way. “But seriously, I hope he makes you happy and treats you well. That last one wasn’t worth your time, but you’re a smart girl, so I trust you not to make the same mistake again.”
“You’d be surprised,” I muttered, and she gave me a probing look. “No, it’s—it’s not like that. They’re not—I mean, he’s?—”
“Wait a minute. They? As in more thanoneboy?”
I groaned, falling forward to lay my forehead on the cool countertop. How was I this bad at being a secretive teenager?
“Is it two boys? That’s not so bad.”
My silence was damning. Aunt Lynette sounded almost impressed when she said, “Three?” and I let out a mortified groan.
“Honey, it’s okay, I’m not judging! It’s not like you’re sleeping with all three of them at once or anything!”
“Bye,” I said, standing up from my chair quickly enough that the damn thing tipped over and poor Gizmo ran hissing from the room. But Aunt Lynette grabbed my arm before I could flee as well, and when I turned back to her, her face was soft, concerned.
“You… you’re seeingthreeboys at once?”
No use lying now. I sighed, nodded, and after I’d picked my chair back up in the longest silence of my life, she let out a low whistle.
“Little girl, sounds like you’re in a pretty tricky situation. Are you… are you in love with these boys?”
“No! God, no. It’s…” How could I calmly and rationally explain what was going on between me and the guys if I didn’t quite know myself? I simply settled for, “It’s… more casual?I’m honestly not sure why I’m so into them. They’re all such assholes, to be honest.”
“Are they mean to you?” Aunt Lynette demanded like she was ready to fight.
“Well, no. Not anymore, anyway. It’s complicated, alright? But I promise it’s all under control, and I didn’t want to tell you like this. Or… at all, ideally.”
