My mom walked into my room, carrying a laundry basket. "What are you so smiley about?" she asked.

I pressed my phone against my chest, clutching my hands over it. I'd just finished rereading the messages me and Emmett exchanged that afternoon for the fifth time.

I'd read them like an epic short story. It started with a question: "What are you doing tomorrow?" The one I agonized over sending for ten minutes. Before my body rebelled. Acting on its own, my finger hit send before my brain could determine if it was a good idea. I'd just walked in the door after spending two hours with the guy. It seemed too soon. Pushy, even.

Then the reply came. "I don't know. What are we doing?"

We.

Emmett said "we."

Not you. Not I. We.

As if it was a forgone conclusion that we should do something together. That singular word still gave me goosebumps.

The smile emoji was a lame attempt at showing how much I appreciated the sentiment, but I didn't know if it came across. Or if it was just stupid. It was probably stupid.

The offer of ATV riding went out, and I waited patiently for a response.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Emmett's words made me laugh the first time. And every time I read it afterwards.

But worry infected me. Maybe Emmett didn't like ATVs or off-roading. I had been doing it for years with my friends. But Emmett was more refined than my friends. He had a softness about him. And somewhat contradictorily, a hard shell. It couldn't be easy growing up gay in a town like ours. If he was going out on dates in public, he must be out to a degree. I wanted to ask so many questions about his experiences. But I got self-conscious and couldn't bring myself to do it.

Afraid that Emmett might renege, I wrote a quick reply to offer some prodding in the hopes that he would take the bait. I told him it was fun. I even offered to let him ride along with me. The thought made me smile, imagining Emmett clinging to me for dear life, arms wrapped tight around my waist. It was always fun when we brought someone new around for the first time: friends, girlfriends, siblings. There was a bit of ribbing at the beginning before they got comfortable on the ATVs, but they always had fun.

I had stared at the screen, anxiously. Had the offer worked? Would it be enough to hook Emmett?

With a fresh wave of courage, I typed a series of question marks to regain Emmett's attention. I immediately regretted it, feeling pushy.

Another interminable stretch of nothingness later, the dots appeared, and Emmet said, "You better not let me fall off."

That brought the biggest smile to my face, stretching my lips to their limits. "Never," I said, adding a winking emoji. That was probably too much. Again. It's like I had forgotten how to talk to people.

Mom removed my clean clothes from the basket, giving a knowing grin. "Is that a girl?"

"What?" My eyes snapped up to meet hers. "It's just a friend."

"I've never seen any of your friends make you blush before," she said with a light chuckle.

I shook my head. "No. It's not... It's nothing."

"If you say so." She tucked the basket under her arm and left, closing the door behind her.

I lifted the phone and stared at the messages. I licked my lips, contemplating my mother's words. Why did these messages give me such satisfaction? Why did I keep poring over them?

I closed the app and put my phone to sleep, tossing it to the foot of the bed next to the stacks of folded clothes.

She didn't know what she was talking about.