Alex and I are sitting on the bench outside Rallyburger by the time Mom pulls up. Alex swiped a breath mint from the bowl by the cash register in the thirty seconds before they locked the door. Technically they close at eleven thirty, but they stop seating new parties after eleven.
I ride in the front and Alex in the back. All the more distance between his beer breath and Mom’s nose.
“Thanks, Mrs. Sanders,” he says, hopping out at his house.
“Good night, Alex.”
When we’re alone, Mom says, “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah,” I say, a little surprised to find it’s true. Matt saved my night.
“Good. I’m glad you’re seeing your friends.”
This is when I normally would dish to Mom that Alex has a girlfriend. I’d swear her to secrecy and then stubbornly decline to provide any further details, despite her clamoring. We’d both arrive home grinning.
Instead, we’re quiet.
A gray car speeds through a yellow light across the intersection in front of us. Mom’s hands go tight on the wheel. Could leave it at that, but I’m on edge and maybe feeling a little confrontational.
“You should let me get rides,” I say. “You hate chauffeur duty.” Now more than ever.
“It’s fine.” She flexes her fingers and looks both ways a few more times before proceeding.
“No. I need to live my own life,” I say. “So get used to it.”