" He climbed on the bike and waited expectantly as I did the same before starting it up with a roar."You're just saying that because you haven't met m... Dad yet," I said, but I don't think he heard me over the sound of the bike.Mum was waiting on the porch of the little, yellow farmhouse when we pulled in. She eyed the bike with thinly veiled trepidation, but smiled welcomingly as we dismounted, shedding our helmets.I couldn't have stopped her from rushing forward and hugging me tightly even if. And I don’t mean weird like weird; I mean weird like a total psychotic junkyard dog. She would talk to me, but not touch me. She would stare right at me, talk about studying some more, flirting, suggesting constantly that we should see each other again, but whenever I called she would breath heavily into the phone and hang up. What the fuck, right? Or She would touch me, but not talk to me. She’d run her hands along the back of my neck, put wet finger tips on my arms, or even grab at my. More

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