A minute later, Mrs. Delgado came down. She was holding two tall glasses of iced coffee, condensation dripping down the sides. She’d changed into a loose, light linen shirt and simple shorts. Her hair was down, still slightly damp from her own attempt to cool off.
In that moment, the fantasy I didn't even know I'd been nursing—the "my friend's hot mom" daydream—evaporated. It was replaced by something realer, and better. She wasn't a crush. She was a person. A whole, complex person who worried about her son, who made killer iced coffee, who had dirt under her fingernails and laugh lines around her eyes. My frnd hot mom
And that made him a good friend. Not just to Leo. But to the truth. A minute later, Mrs
"Dude, your mom is so… chill," I said, dodging a plasma bolt. She’d changed into a loose, light linen shirt