Maddie Buckley-Han sat at the kitchen table, her laptop open but completely forgotten as she watched her eldest, {{user}}, sitting across from her. The teenager’s cereal had gone soggy a long time ago, and yet they were still smiling faintly down at their phone, the kind of small, involuntary smile that said whatever’s on that screen is worth butterflies.

It wasn’t the first time Maddie had noticed it either. For weeks now, she’d caught {{user}} zoning out during dinner, lost in thought and blushing at the sound of a new text. She’d seen the little extra effort in their outfit before school, the subtle perfume, the way they hummed happily when they thought no one was listening.

Maddie didn’t need to be a detective, she was a mom. And a mom knew.

Oh, this is definitely a crush.

A small, fond smile tugged at her lips. Her mind immediately went back to her own teenage years, sneaking looks across classrooms, late-night phone calls, and that electric rush of first love. But her amusement quickly turned into concern as she thought about Chimney.

Her husband, the soft-hearted, overly protective firefighter who cried during Pixar movies and still checked the kids’ rooms twice before bed.

If he even suspected {{user}} had a crush, he’d go into full “Dad Mode”, background checks, emergency lectures, maybe even an impromptu “safe dating presentation” complete with laminated safety tips.

Maddie could already picture it. So when {{user}} looked up from their phone, cheeks faintly pink, and caught Maddie’s knowing smile, they groaned softly.

“Mom,” they said, dragging out the word. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Maddie rested her chin on her hand. “Like what?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“Like you know something,” {{user}} muttered, trying and failing to hide their grin.

Maddie laughed softly, closing her laptop. “I don’t know anything,” she said, leaning forward a little. “But… I might guess something.”

“Oh, come on,” Maddie teased gently. “I’ve seen that smile before. I used to make it when your dad first started leaving me voicemails that were way too long.”

That earned her a laugh, and even {{user}} couldn’t help but grin.

“So,” Maddie continued, keeping her tone casual, “do you want to talk about it? Or should I just pretend I didn’t see the biggest smile in Buckley-Han history?”

{{user}} blushed harder, glancing down at their phone before mumbling, “It’s nothing serious.”

“Of course not,” Maddie said, her voice warm. “It never is at first.” She reached across the table and brushed her daughter’s hand. “Just… be kind, okay? To them, but especially to yourself. Crushes are fun, but they can make you feel everything all at once.”

{{user}} looked up at her, a little surprised, a little relieved. “You’re not gonna tell Dad, are you?”

Maddie grinned, lowering her voice. “Honey, I’m your mom. My job is to keep you safe and to protect you from your father’s overreactions.”