Linda sat on Zoe's bed, curling up her legs under her body in a rather unladylike manner, and not only that, in a manner that a woman her age wouldn't normally be able to manage unless she was very physically fit.
"What are you listening to?" She said.
"Music," Zoe said. Since when did she care? Zoe thought. Linda had never been interested in what she was interested in...they had absolutely nothing in common.
"Well, duh," Linda said.
Zoe blinked. She wondered why Linda was being such a pain. Then, with a start, she realized she'd just thought of her mother by her first name without even thinking about it.
She looked over, and her mind did a loop. The wrinkles in Linda's face were firming out, vanishing. She looked ten years younger. Zoe frowned suddenly. Younger than what?
Zoe's mind tried to wrap itself around two competing images of Linda...as her mother, and as someone who couldn't possibly be her mother.
"Earth to Zoe," Linda said. Linda couldn't understand why Zoe was just sitting there, having paused in mid-sentence, staring at her, or just into space in her general direction, she wasn't sure.
Zoe blinked. "I...I...need some air," she said, stumbling toward the door and making for a hasty retreat.
Linda looked after her, wondering why Zoe was acting weird. She wasn't sure if she should go after Zoe or not. A maternal instinct rose in her for a moment, worrying about the girl, but then it was gone as if it was never there. After all, she wasn't old enough to have a teenage daughter, was she?
