Mrs. DeLaurentis smiles and there’s a kind of knowing in her eyes. It’s a look that tells me she isn’t buying what I’m selling.
And you’re surprised by this why?
I am laying it on pretty thick.
“You’re good for him,” she says. “We talk regularly and he’s been happier this semester than he’s been in a long time.”
“Oh, I don’t think I can take credit for that, Mrs. DeLaurentis.”
She waves off my comment. “Please, call me Lauren.”
I nod, but I can’t seem to push her name past my lips. It’s too weird. She’s an adult.
So are you.
Debatable. Especially compared to this woman, who’s an adultier adult than I’ll ever be.
“I’m glad Cooper has finally met a nice girl. Someone who sees him for who he is and not just his skill on the field.”
“I—” How am I even supposed to respond to that?Very. Carefully. “He’s a great guy. And a really good friend.”
Oh, God.Please let this end before I make a bigger fool of myself.
“Cooper deserves to be happy.” She smiles warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners just like Coop’s do. “He puts on a front, but deep down, he’s actually quite sensitive. Not like those other boys who just—” She shakes off the thought. “Well, I’m sure you know what some of those boys are like.”
It’s all I can do not to laugh because only a mother could believe Coop isn’t sewing his wild oats and banging his way across campus.
“And once he joins the NFL,” she continues, “having stability will be even more important for him.”
I stiffen. This feels like a trap. Coop said his parents didn’t know about his plans.
No, he said his father didn’t know about his plans.
Still, I’m not sure what to say, so I just stand there like an idiot, saying nothing.
“A girl like you could help keep him grounded.”
Anxiety tightens my chest. She’s right about Cooper. He has a good heart. He’s not at all what I expected based on his reputation. Even now, it’s hard to reconcile the guy I met that first night with the man I’ve come to know. He’s sweet. Smart. Loyal.
But I’m not the one who will keep him grounded.
What we have isn’t real, even if I wish it was.
I can’t exactly say that to his mother, though. Not when she’s looking at me like I’m the greatest thing that’s ever happened to her son. “I’ll do my best.”
She touches my arm. “That’s all a mother can ask.”
I follow her lead as we exit the bathroom. When she reaches for the door handle, the sleeve of her jacket rides up and I glimpse a nasty bruise on her wrist.
“Ouch.” The observation pops out before I have time to think it through. “That looks like it hurt.”
I’d know. I’ve had my share of ill-timed bruises over the years.
Lasting reminders of my status as a literal walking disaster.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” She holds the door for me and after I slip through, she adjusts the sleeve of her jacket, once again the picture of perfection.#lifegoals.“I have a bit of a clumsy side. Cooper may have gotten his looks from me, but he definitely got his father’s grace.”
It’s hard to believe this beautiful, confident woman has a clumsy bone in her body, but it explainssomuch.
