For the next two days, Mom seemed odd, always watching me out of the corner of her eye as if guarding against a thief.
On the third day, after dinner, I was sitting on the sofa discussing the Premier League with Dad when Mom came over, crooked her finger at me, and gestured for me to follow her into the bedroom.
These past few days, Mom's unusual behavior has left me feeling a bit on edge. I have no idea what she's up to, and honestly, I'm starting to think about taking her to see a psychologist.
After entering the room, Mom sat on a stool, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the dressing table as she watched me.
Today, she was wearing a light knit top paired with slim-fit jeans that hugged her long, shapely legs, making her look quite curvaceous. Her feet, clad in white cotton socks, were tucked into cozy slippers. It seemed she was on high alert around me.
After a moment of silence, Mom asked, "How have things been at school lately?"
"Fine."
"Fine? And... what about your studies? Have you been focusing?"
"Yes."
"What about Lu Yiyi? Have you been hanging out with her recently?"
"No."
"You..." Mom looked puzzled. "You seem a bit different than usual."
"How so?"
"Why aren't you being your usual cheeky self? No weird comments either."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"It's not bad... but seeing you like this feels a bit strange, almost unsettling. Do you have something on your mind?" Mom frowned, then forced a stiff smile, pretending to be warm and caring. "Come on, don't be shy. Tell me."
"I don't have anything on my mind," I thought to myself. You think I'm acting strange? Well, I think you're the one acting strange.
"You do." Mom's eyebrows shot up as she glared at me sideways.
"I don't." I couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time.
"You do."
"I really don't."
With a loud smack, Mom slammed her hand on the table, her eyes wide as she stared at me, leaving no room for doubt. "You do!"
"Fine, I do." I quickly nodded.
Mom patted the foot of the bed and smiled. "Come, sit down and tell me."
I sighed helplessly and sat down. Mom scolded me with a displeased expression. "You're so young, what are you sighing about?"
I didn't even know why I sighed. Sitting obediently at the foot of the bed, I waited for a while, but Mom grew impatient when I didn't speak. "Go on, tell me what's on your mind. We've known each other for over a decade—there's nothing you can't say to me." She glanced at me and clapped her hands. "How about this? Today, don't think of me as your mom. Think of me as your best friend."
I couldn't help but make a face like an old man on the subway looking at his phone, grinning with disdain. "Mom, aren't you being a bit childish? I'm not a kid anymore. Are we really playing the 'pretend best friends' game?"
Mom blushed at my words and gave me a light smack on the head. Rubbing my head, I said pitifully, "Mom, you hit me again. My best friend would never hit me."
Mom clearly regretted it as soon as she did it, instinctively reacting. She gently stroked my head and said softly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's a habit—I didn't mean to."
"That's not a great habit," I said with a wry smile.
We sat in awkward silence for a moment before Mom suddenly stood up, smiling. "You... maybe you're too embarrassed to speak face-to-face. I know you care about your pride. How about this? Come here." With that, she pulled me to the left side of the bed, placed her hands on my shoulders, and firmly pushed me down onto the bed.
Startled, I quickly sat up. "What are you doing?"
"Lie down and don't move," Mom warned.
I obediently lay on my parents' bed. Seeing a hint of shyness on my mother's face, my heart skipped a beat. Could it be that, to relieve my physical needs, my mother was about to offer me some special service?
Was the plot from those steamy novels about to unfold in my life?
...
Impossible, right?
I watched my mother with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. She quickly walked to the other side of the bed and lay down beside me. My heart raced faster and faster, and I couldn't help but ask, "Mom, what exactly are you planning to do?"
Mom lay on her back on the bed and said, "Just like this. Don't look at me."
I hesitated for a moment, then lay down flat on the bed just like her, staring straight up at the ceiling.
Suddenly, Mom's left hand brushed against my right hand and gently held it.
My heart skipped a beat. Mom's hand was smooth, warm, and delicate, like soft jade. Her palm was slightly damp—it seemed she was a bit nervous too.
"Mom… what… what exactly are you trying to do?"
"I read online that it's easier to communicate when you're not looking at each other. Come on, now you can tell me what's on your mind."
So that's what it was. I felt a bit silly for what I had been thinking earlier, but also a little disappointed.
"Tell you… what's on my mind?"
"Anything on your mind. For example, things you've wanted to say before but didn't dare tell me."
"Things I wanted to say but didn't dare?" I muttered to myself a few times and suddenly remembered something. "If I say it, you can't get mad or hit me, okay?"
"Why would I hit you? What do you take me for, a tiger mom? Just say it, don't worry."
"Alright, I'll say it then. You really can't sing well. Every time we go to KTV, it's like a disaster scene. I really don't want to go singing with you."
"You—!" Mom suddenly sat up and glared at me. "Are you asking for a beating?"
Seeing her raise her arm as if to hit me, I quickly covered my head and said, "You promised you wouldn't hit me."
Mom froze, her raised hand hanging in the air for a long moment before she finally lowered it. She forced a smile and said, "I won't hit you. I said I wouldn't, so I won't."
Just then, the bedroom door opened. Dad walked in, took in the scene, and couldn't help but look confused. "What are you two… doing?"
Mom glared at him and said loudly, "We're having a counseling session! Don't disturb us, get out!"
Dad flinched, backed out, and closed the door firmly behind him. Mom lay back down and said with a smile, "The nuisance is gone. We can continue now. Go ahead, say it."
"I already said everything. That's my only secret—I've always wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you'd get angry."
"Who told you to say that?" Mom was both annoyed and amused. "I didn't ask you to talk about me. Talk about yourself. Do you have any… like, something you're embarrassed to talk about?"
"Something I'm embarrassed to talk about?" I thought for a moment. Mom had been hinting at it all along, and I knew what she was worried about. But I felt like I could handle it myself—I didn't need her to worry about it.
I rolled off the bed and said to her, "Forget it, I really don't have anything to say. I'd rather go back and do a couple of practice tests instead." With that, I got up to leave, but Mom shouted, "Stop! Lie back down!"
I clicked my tongue in frustration and reluctantly lay back down. Not knowing what else to say to her, I turned the question back on her. "Since we're opening up, you can't just make me talk. What about you? Do you have any secrets you can't tell?"
"Me?" Mom thought for a moment, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. She pursed her lips and smiled. "I do have one secret."
I grew a little curious and quickly asked, "What secret? Did you ever cheat emotionally?"
"I'll hit you!"
I quickly shut my mouth and fell silent for a moment. Mom suddenly chuckled and whispered, "I... I feel like peeing whenever I get nervous."
A bit surprised, I turned to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed as she said shyly, "I... I already told you. Even your dad doesn't know this secret."
Propping my head up with my hand, I lay on my side and watched her with interest, smiling as I said, "I always thought you were fearless. Turns out you get nervous too, and when you do, you feel like peeing."
Mom's face turned even redder. She scolded me, "Don't laugh! I'm not an AI robot—why wouldn't I get nervous? Let me tell you, every time I go to a parent-teacher meeting at school, I'm terrified."
"Why would you be nervous about a parent-teacher meeting?"
"Remember when you were in third grade? You set your deskmate's braid on fire. Your homeroom teacher scolded me in front of all the parents, saying we had no upbringing and didn't know how to discipline our child. Ever since then, I've been terrified of going to your parent-teacher meetings."
I rolled my eyes, trying hard to recall. After a long while, I finally remembered and smiled sheepishly. "Oh, that? It was just a joke. I only meant to scare her—I didn't expect it to actually catch fire."
"You scared her by setting her hair on fire. Her dad almost set our car on fire. Your dad and I had to apologize profusely and beg before he let you off."
"That's such an exaggeration. It was just kids messing around."
"You thought it was messing around, but they saw it as bullying."
"Alright, alright, let's drop it. It's all in the past—why bring it up now? I respect women deeply these days. I'm a full-on feminist now."
"Feminist, my foot. Do you even know what feminism means? You just hear a word and throw it around."
"Gender equality, respecting women."
Mom scoffed. "Respecting women? Groping someone's thigh on the bus—is that what you call respect?"
"I already told you I was framed!" I grew agitated and sat up. "If you bring that up again, I'm leaving. I'm done talking!"
"Fine, fine, I won't mention it. Lie back down." Mom reached out and pulled me back. "Your turn. I've already shared one of my secrets—now you have to share one too."
I frowned, thinking hard about what secret I could share with Mom. But after a long while, I couldn't come up with anything—either it was something I couldn't say or it wasn't interesting enough.
After waiting for a while with no response, Mom simply asked, "Alright, let me ask you this. When did you and Lu Yiyi start?"
Without hesitation, I replied, "First year of middle school."
"First year of middle school?" Mom was clearly shocked. "You two were already... in first year of middle school?"
"Yeah, on your birthday that year, you and Aunt Rong got drunk and insisted we were a couple. You even forced me to call Aunt Rong 'Mom.' Don't you remember?"
"Did that really happen?"
"Of course! After that, we started calling each other 'husband' and 'wife.' At first, we were just joking around, but somehow it became real. Didn't you and Aunt Rong already know about this?"
"Ah... oh!" Mom suddenly understood. "So you're talking about you two dating."
"What else? What were you talking about?" As soon as I said it, it dawned on me. "Oh, you were talking about that."
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm talking about."
I thought to myself, Mom is really curious about what goes on in my bed. After a moment of hesitation, I said, "Well... two years ago, when I was in my first year of high school."
"That early?" Mom sounded surprised.
"It's not that early. I have a classmate who already... you know... did it back in middle school. I'm actually considered late."
Mom fell silent for a while before asking, "Who initiated it?"
"Who initiated what?" I didn't catch her meaning at first.
"I mean... who..." Mom pondered for a moment before finally mustering the courage to ask, "Who seduced whom? Was it you or her?"
"It wasn't really about seduction. It was more like mutual exploration."
"You kids these days are really... precocious."
"Of course. With information so readily available these days, it's rare not to be."
"So... how often do you do it?"
I was taken aback. Sitting up to look at Mom, I said with a mix of amusement and exasperation, "You're asking such a private question?"
Mom looked a bit embarrassed but still insisted, "I'm your mother. There's nothing I can't ask."
"Alright then." I lay back down, thought for a moment, and said, "At first, three or four times a day. Then once a day, and later once every two days."
"That frequent?" Mom interrupted before I could finish.
Since we were already being so open, I didn't hold back either. I said straightforwardly, "At first, it felt new and exciting, so we were practically glued together. Later, it just felt... ordinary. Nowadays, it's usually once a week, sometimes twice. Mainly because schoolwork has gotten more intense, and Lu Yiyi isn't too interested in it anyway. Unless we really can't help it..."
Perhaps Mom didn't know how to respond. The room fell into an awkward silence.
Just as I was wondering whether to change the subject, Mom asked, "What counts as... really can't help it?"
I sat up again and looked at her. "Mom, that's going a bit too far. How do you expect me to answer that?"
"No, I just want to know how long it takes before you can't help it. And what do you do when you can't help it? Grope someone's thigh on the bus?"
"Why are you bringing that up again? Are you ever going to drop it? I can't have this conversation with you." I was practically on the verge of tears.
"I'm just concerned about you. I'm worried you might go down the wrong path." Mom switched into her earnest, caring mode.
"Oh, how do I explain this to you?" I was so flustered I could scratch my head. "Don't worry, I absolutely won't go down the wrong path, okay? I know you care, but talking about this kind of thing between mother and son feels weird and awkward. How about this—why don't you swap with Dad and let him come in to 'care' about me?"
"Him? Has he ever bothered with family matters?" Mom snorted disapprovingly. "He's just a hands-off manager."
"Mom, I really need to get back to studying. Let's talk another day, okay?"
Without waiting for her response, I got up and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind me. I took a few deep breaths, feeling utterly suffocated by the intensity of that heart-to-heart with Mom.
Dad walked over and asked curiously in a low voice, "What were you two talking about?"
"A secret."
"You keep secrets from me too?"
I said with a smile, "You have your secrets too."
Dad flinched, nodded, and turned to leave.
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