A knock on the door.
She scrambles off the bed to unlock it.
Her mother walks in, carrying a pile of neatly folded clothes. Fresh off the clothesline. The flowey scent wafts up to greet her nostrils.
"Why do you have that expression on your face? You only had that look when you used to text your ex-boyfriend. Wait, are you Google-ing him?" Incredulation and a slight hint of amusement creeps into the voice of the older woman.
"Eww." Genuine disgust on the part of the daughter. "It's the new guy," she answers, turning her attention back to her cellphone.
Her mother moves to the closet, arranging the clothes in the drawers for a while. She turns to face her daughter.
"You really like him, don't you?"
Silence.
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