My First Love Is My Friends Mom Exclusive -

It was the summer before my junior year of high school when the tectonic plates of my heart shifted. Matt’s father had taken a temporary job assignment overseas, which meant that Sarah was home alone most evenings. Matt, never one to miss an opportunity for freedom, began spending more and more time at my house, leaving Sarah to her own devices. But on the nights when Matt and I were at his place, the dynamic was different.

And one day, you realize you have been staring at the way the afternoon light hits her hair for five minutes straight.

She kicked off her wedges, sighed, and poured herself a glass of white wine. Then she sat on the stool next to me at the kitchen island—not across from me, next to me. She smelled like sandalwood and coffee. She asked about my grades. She actually listened. When I made a self-deprecating joke about my math test, she didn't just smile and walk away. She tilted her head, touched my forearm briefly, and said, "Don't be so hard on yourself. You're one of the good ones."

I had known Diana for years. She had packed my peanut butter sandwiches in second grade. She had driven us to laser tag in middle school. But somewhere between sophomore and junior year, the lens shifted. I stopped seeing her as "Jake's mom" and started seeing her as a woman.