Fallen Crest Public(90)

Logan started laughing. “Your mom can’t be any more opposite from ours.”
Then we heard from the hallway, “MARK!”
“And she summons …”
“MOVIE’S STARTING IN NEGATIVE FIVE MINUTES.”
Mark said to us, “She won’t pick a comedy because she doesn’t want to make Sam laugh.”
That was much appreciated.
“But if we don’t get down there and pick the movie first, the scariest damn movie will be starting. My mom never gets scared from horror films. I have no idea why. Her other sisters are like that, too. I wish I had inherited that gene, but she loves watching the rest of us when we’re close to pissing our pants.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re right Logan, but my mom is not like any other mom. She’s not normal. For real.”
The doorbell rang.
“MARK, GET THE DOOR. THOSE ARE THE PIZZAS.”
He grumbled, but left.
“If Mark wasn’t a cool guy, and if your dad hadn’t got there first, I’d bang Mark’s mom.”
If I could talk easier, I would’ve informed Logan my vomit was coming in three … two … one … I couldn’t and it would’ve hurt to throw up. It hurt to do anything, so I gave him the middle finger. That would have to satisfy me for now.
Logan laughed, and for the rest of night, he flirted. Mason didn’t care. I did. Mark seemed confused, and David shook his head. As we watched a movie about teen wizards, followed by a documentary about polar bears, Malinda seemed to enjoy herself. Her cheeks were red by the end of the night from her wine.
The first night passed quickly and so did the rest of the week.
Things seemed normal between David and me. There were no awkward silences or uncomfortable moments. In hindsight, I realized it was because of Malinda. She always had a quick retort for Logan, and when there was a lull in conversation, she’d grill Mark on his love life. He was mortified when she suggested getting a vibrator for his girl. “Mom!” he cried out. She shrugged. “You’re not a virgin, and I’m promoting her pleasure as well. The girl will enjoy it a lot more. They don’t always, you know.” She scanned the rest of the table. “I’m sure you two bucks think you’re the stud for all those does,” she remembered me and amended, “well maybe just you and Logan, but I’m telling you. Girls fake it eighty percent of the time.”
That opened a whole new channel of adoration from Logan. He wanted to know it all.
The rest of the conversation was a question and answer forum from Logan while Mark looked ready to throw up. I even caught Mason listening intently to her. He told me later that he’d be stupid to pass up information like that. When I came back from the bathroom, ready for bed, his eyes had darkened in lust. His hand skimmed over my waist, gently rubbing before he moved to cup my breasts. Curling into my side, he kissed the side of my neck and remarked, “Six weeks cannot get here sooner.”
I knew what he meant. The ache lingered in me, but it was mixed with pain and stiffness. However, that ache conquered all other aches when he would get ready for school in the morning, or for bed at night, or come back from basketball practice, or being around me in general. By the end of the week, when the pain was starting to lessen even more, the ache for Mason was unbearable at times.
During the time when they were at school, it was easier, but Mason was gone. Malinda didn’t hover. Thank god. I had worried she would, but she seemed to pop in at the right moments. She brought me smoothies. At first, my stomach protested at the sight of the green color, but I was reassured it was delicious. I soon craved them, so I spent hours in the kitchen watching her experiment with new recipes.
The rest of the time was spent watching movies and I napped. I napped a lot.