"What's got you looking all girly?" My mom's voice had interrupted as I cleaned the my camera lenses for the ninth time in a row. I was dressed up -or as dressed up as I could be for a movie date- my legs were in some fitted high-waited jeans that my mom had passed down to me. Despite the fact that we were twenty years apart, we shared somewhat the same physique: wide hips and small waists. Jeans rarely fit me properly so I never really wore them unless they were baggy.

I'd also been wearing a tight tan long-sleeve mock-turtle-neck, gold bracelets lining my right wrist as well as a few rings on my fingers. But what really got my mom must've been the patterned scarf and heeled ankle-boots that were most-definitely hers. Her arms were crossed over her large chest that I sadly did not inherit and I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious.

Must've been my already anxious energy. Scrubbing over the lens in my hand again, I sighed.

"I have a date." The thought of Oliver put a smile on my face despite my worrying and I convinced myself that he loved my body. I mean, he had made sure to inform me of that every time he could, I was glad the neck of my shirt was high enough to cover the hickies he'd left on me last time we were alone together.

But still, this was our first official date as a couple, excluding all the hang outs that he deemed not a date. He said he wanted to actually take me out, actually show me how much I meant to him with cheesy movies and hand-holding. And, I mean, that was another thing I loved about Oliver. Stormy eyes and a cute smile, light freckles that seemed even more noticeable as Christmas approached. The bashful way he smiled after small signs of affection-

Tightening my grip on my lens, I jumped when it nearly slid out of my hands. I had it bad.

My mom looked surprised, her eyes going wide and I finally realized that Oliver had only met my parents as a friend. They didn't know that we were dating yet, "That white boy that came over and played video games with Jackson?" I hadn't realized my dad was in the room as well until I looked up, that man was silent but deadly or at least, that's what he wanted you to believe.

Twining his arms around my mother's body, he rested his chin on top of her head and I smiled, calming down a bit. Lately, they seemed to be getting better, always showing some sort of affection and I was sure it had to do with my mom's blow up the week before.

"What white boy?" He'd questioned, eyes staring straight into my soul and I averted my gaze, "Oliver Remmer?" And that made me gulp, wondering what he would say. Oliver hadn't really been over my house since his most-recent arrest and my dad being in the psychology field, I was sure he'd heard about that. He couldn't stop me from seeing Oliver when we just got together, especially after the fight we were getting over.

We were close now, he was mine and I loved him.

"Yeah dad," I sighed, thinking about how dumb I'd sound if I told my parents that I loved an ex-juvenile delinquent. "That is the one."

And the smile on my dad's face shocked me, I didn't expect it nor did I expect what came out of his mouth afterwards. "Okay."

Matching his smile but instead with wide eyes, my mom looked up at him leaning the back of her head on his chest and slapping it with the back of her hand in excitement before turning back towards me, "Ooo, I like him, he's cute." At that I laughed, knowing that Oliver reminded her of Dad, she'd always taught us to find someone who'd treat us right, didn't matter what they looked like.

But someone's mental health always mattered to my dad, he was always worried about people and most of all, he always worried about me and Jackson so that's why it confused me when he simply let it go that I was dating Oliver Remmer. Oliver Remmer: notorious for putting people in hospitals. I mean, I knew Oliver wouldn't hurt me but... "You're not mad?"

My dad went silent at that as if he was thinking, mulling over whether or not he'd been mad and all his contemplating was freaking me out until he looked back at me. "Does he respect you?"

My palms were clammy and my throat was dry from worrying about the date and then worrying about my dad's reaction but I couldn't have been more sure of my answer. "Yeah." From the way he always made sure I was okay with how he was, how many times he'd held doors for me and made sure I felt safe around him and that was my dad's next question.

"He hasn't scared you or anything, you feel safe around him?"

"Extremely safe, Oliver's not just some violent guy." I was sure about that, sure I'd been scared once, after Ceaser's conflict no doubt but that wasn't of him specifically, just what would happen to him. I was worried about him more than worried for myself, I'd never feared that he'd hit me or harm me on purpose, never. "He's gotten a hold on things, been taking his pills, he's getting better." And he was, he'd met with Aaima once a week now, he'd gotten into volunteer work lately, he cared more about his education. Oliver was helping himself, he was caring for himself and that made me love him even more.

And he sighed, tightening his arms around my mom and I could tell just how hard this was for him. "You're almost eighteen, almost out of here and I can't protect you from everything even if I try and damn sure I'm going to try." I laughed at that, realizing that in a few months I was going to graduate, I really was almost an adult -kind of- soon, I'd be out of the house. "I'm always gonna worry about you but that's gonna be the same with everyone you date. You're a pretty girl, Em, boys are going to see that."

My mom agreed and I could feel my cheeks heating even though you probably couldn't see it, "And Oliver seems like such a good guy, I've seen the way he looks at you and looks after you. He does little things that your dad used to do, reasons I fell in love with him."

"I love you too, baby." his voice was gentle and that made me smile, they'd been so much better lately, everything had been so much better lately and things were falling into place.

"You better."

"Be careful with him," my dad warned, interrupting my mom's gushing and I nodded at that but he wasn't finished. With his eyes locked on mine, he showed that "you're my little girl, we raised you to respect yourself and never settle for someone who doesn't respect. I think we did a great job and although I don't think you'll find someone who loves you as much as we do..."

"I carried your ass for nine months and went through sixteen hours of labor to get you here, ain't no one love you as much as I love you, Bug." My mom spoke just above a whisper, smiling in my direction and I'd never felt more grateful for her.

And my dad finished off, "even if its impossible for him to love you as much as we do," he disregarded the embarrassed smile on my face and continued, "this Remmer kid... my coworker says he's getting better in his therapy, says you're all he talks about and how much he loves you which is the only reason I'm letting you go."

And fuck, I really loved him, but how did my dad... "You know about..." he's a fucking therapist, Em, of course he knows. "I always forget you're a shrink."

"I'm a Psychologist not a shrink." He'd corrected as always and rolled his eyes, fighting a small smile.

"Same thing."

And rolling his eyes again, he set out the ground rules I'd been waiting for. "I want you back by ten, you call me if anything happens and you carry money on you at all times, make sure your phone is charged."

"What is this a spy investigation or a date?"

Ignoring that question, I looked over to see my mom shaking her head at him. He still wasn't finished and that was clear when he kept talking. "No later than ten, I'm serious." We all know you're serious, Dad.

"Eleven." I'd tried to bargain, not wanting to break curfew because the last time Jackson had, his whooping came as soon as he got in the door and he was grounded for a month. I wasn't looking to have my ass beat or my parents hating Oliver before he'd even met them as my boyfriend.

"Ten thirty." My mom suggested and I was quick to agree, leaving my dad standing there staring at her in shock.

"Tammy!"

"Oh, let her live a little, Rod." Smacking his chest lightly when he refused to talk to her, she tried to bargain, "it's not like she's dumb enough to get into trouble with that extra thirty minutes." And I was gonna yell out in protest, really about to defend my own intelligence when the door bell rang.

Why the fuck was I so nervous?

"That's him, do I look okay?" Who am I? This is Oliver, I never dressed up for Oliver... but this was our first official date and I wanted him to think I was pretty, you know girly shit. Looking quickly at my mirrror, I fixed my hair, patting my head to make sure the braided headband was still in place at the very front and the rest of my curls were perfectly fluffed out. Ever since I'd gotten more comfortable with my hair and Oliver expressed how much he liked it, I started to wear it in more styles, less buns and less straightening.

Grabbing my pic -or the pic i'd stolen from Jackson- I made sure my curls were big before going over my edges with a little more edge control.

It was a second day wash and go and all I could think was: Please don't frizz up on me today.

"You look beautiful, baby." my dad's voice was soft behind me and I locked eyes with my parents in the mirror, a little embarrassed from my actions. I'd never been this caught up, this worried about what a guy thought of me...

"Thanks, Dad." Going to put on my coat, I made sure it looked good with the outfit before turning to my mom for her input, she might've been forty but she could dress.

She smiled at me nodding before her eyes lit up. "Wait, here," pulling the hoops from her ears, she moved over to place them in my first holes, the gold studs she'd bought me for my last birthday, already in the seconds. Clipping in the back, she stepped back to make sure it looked okay and I bit my lip hoping she'd love it, "perfect."

At that, the doorbell rang again and I picked up my black sling back from my bed, popping my chapstick, phone, wallet, and lipgloss in it. I could hear my mom hollering from my room as I ran down the steps to catch my brother on the couch playing 2k, when did he ever not play 2k? "Jack Jack, movie night!"

"You couldn't even open the door?" I almost yelled when I realized that Oliver was standing on my porch in thirty degree weather.

"Nah, do I look like a slave?"

Laughing at that, I went to open the door and Oliver instantly stepped into the warmth of my house even though we were probably going to leave as soon as he did. "A house one, yes." I answered over my shoulder, listening to my brother's large cackle as Oliver shut the door behind him. Internally, I thanked him because I wasn't looking forward to a 'you're letting out all the hot air,' lecture from my mom.

"Shut up, you lightskin too."

Oliver chuckled at the way my brother shot up from his seat right after he said that, screaming out at the game and my mom quickly yelled to shut him up.

"Quit all that hollering in my damn house before I give you something to scream about!"

Biting my lip at that, I wanted to stick around to see my brother get yelled at some more but I just knew they'd grill Oliver with questions. "Hey," he'd greeted simply, eyes meeting mine and I forgot all about my brother until he looked past me, "Hey, Jack."

"S'up?" That clearly was a rhetorical question and Oliver could tell as my brother got more invested into his game, calling a time out just to dap him up yet still not removing his eyes from the screen.

Smiling over at my boyfriend when he'd looked back at me, I noticed how red his nose was and reached for his hand. Intertwining it with mine, I wondered why he didn't wear gloves. I mean, I didn't wear gloves either but his fingers felt like little icicles. "Hey yourself, cold?"

"A little." He spoke up and I thought about how much warmer his car probably would be.

"Okay, why don't we get to the car-"

It seemed like every time we were at my house, someone always interrupted but Oliver didn't seem to mind. I however was trying to figure out how my mom could be so hypocritical about being loud when she was the loudest person on the block. "Rod, pop the popcorn!"

"Please, please take me with you..." my brother's voice was soft and pleading and I looked down into begging brown eyes. And then I remembered the literally that morning he'd licked my breakfast bagel and all remorse was wiped.

Waving my fingers, I smiled wide proceeding towards the door with Oliver in tow. "Bye Jack."

"Nooooooo."

I didn't expect anything of it but living with Jackson for fifteen years, I should have. When I felt my ankle being tugged from the ground and I almost fell, I gripped onto oliver for support and when I was balanced I reared my head back, turning to look at my brother holding tightly onto the skin between my ankle boot and my jeans. "What the heck, let me go." Kicking at him, I tried to wiggle out of his grip as he laid on the floor, game controller discarded. "Jacky."

"Nigga," he'd replied back, my hand going to claw his away and he shrunk back, letting go, "they gonna try and hug me again."

"And?"

That made him look at me as if I was dumb, as if I were the one who just dove on the floor to stop him from leaving the house. "Do you know how many times they've hugged me since last week? Em, come on." I could hear Oliver laughing a little and I couldn't help but smile.

"Love you but no."

And when I was out of the house, down the steps and in Oliver's car buckling up, I could see my brother through the window and his yell was loud enough for me to hear him. "Emerson!"

⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄

He was wearing his piercings and I'd worn my hair curly, his hands wouldn't stop twirling my hair and I was starting to love it. Oliver had made it known on multiple occasions that he absolutely loved my natural hair, even with the heat damage I'd suffered and the slight color damage. I couldn't wait to cut off my dead ends and re-dye it back to black.

Maybe a big chop sometime soon, maybe I'd shave my head.

"Hey, what if I cut all my hair off?" I'd asked, playing with the ends of my curls, would I look good with short hair?

"Do you want to?" he'd asked nonchalantly and that made me smile, he seemed open to it, as if he couldn't care less and that was the sweetest thing to me so I sighed. Cutting my hair off wasn't something I'd seriously thought about, I loved my hair... a lot but maybe someday a fresh start would be nice and it felt great to know that my boyfriend didn't mind.

"I don't know," I'd shrugged and his fingers came up to play with a strand as we sat in his driveway waiting for Elliot to come out and grace us with his presence.

"Well, I think you'll look beautiful either way, my opinion doesn't even matter, it's what makes you happy that's what matters." Pushing a hand to my forehead, he pulled my curls out of my face and bit his lip as he jokingly inspected it before laughing, "If you wanna cut your hair, I support it, I'd love you and your big head regardless." Hitting his shoulder in payment of how he made my heart skip a beat, I laughed as well, watching Elliot exit the house.

"Where're we going?" I'd asked when his brother had finally made his way to the car, barely greeting me but that was how Elliot had always been. He'd been invested in his phone when he slid in the backseat, the bench-seat in the front forgotten.

I wasn't complaining though, this seat allowed me to sit closer to Oliver, turned towards him instead of my phone that was plugged into the aux. He spoke nonchalantly, answering my question and I don't think I could've held back my smile. "First official stop on the journey to make you love me."

"Oliver..." I hadn't let him know that I loved him yet, whether or not I was waiting for the right time, I didn't know. I also didn't know why I was so scared as if he didn't already make it clear how he felt about me.

"I'm taking you on that date." He'd answered clearly when I made no indication that I had anything to say.

"Well duh, why do you think I dressed nice?"

He didn't even spare me a glace but instead his hand settled on my thigh and I tried not to squirm thinking about things that shouldn't have been thought about on the first date. But it hit me that we'd had sex already and we weren't the traditional couple so these thoughts weren't that bad or out of context. "You always dress nice."

"Oh, bullshit."

"You do..." and his hand left me, the warmth that he placed there vanishing as he made a turn out of the complex. "We're gonna go pick up Jovie and hopefully that'll make Eli a little less antisocial."

"Works for me." I'd seen some script on the back of his neck, "What's this?" My fingers were playing in his little waves at the base of his neck and I went to pull the collar down a bit to see the tattoo a little better.

"Uh," gently jerking away from me, he bit at his lip and that only made me more anxious, "a new tattoo."

"Let me see." Laughing a little at the way he jerked away, I held his neck softly, finger brushing over one of the marks I'd left on him nights prior and watched as he reluctantly sunk into my touch. Pulling his collar down a little to see what I'd expected to be a misspelling or something embarrassing, my eyes widened. Sitting down properly in the seat, my mouth was wide and we'd sat there in silence for a little bit. Pulling my phone off the dashboard, I unplugged the aux and tried to busy myself with Twitter so I wouldn't blow up.

I was uncomfortable and I could tell he was too so I tried to think it over before saying anything to make it worse.

Until I couldn't take it anymore, all I could hear was the muffled music coming from Elliot's headphones in the back and it was giving me a headache. "When'd you get it?"

"I was drunk, Em." But what the hell did he drink to make that seem like a good idea?

"Tattoos are permanent, Oliver." I was being a bitch about it, I know but I couldn't help but worry that he'd regret it one day.

"I know."

But he didn't get it, "you obviously don't, it's my fucking name." Our relationship had been rocky, we were just getting better and he had a tattoo of my name written in the back of his neck in permanent ink. It said Emerson in some pretty cursive font that I was sure he sat forever getting done and he didn't even seem to feel bad.

"I can read." He'd snapped and I sighed at that, leaning back in the bench seat as he closed the little clear partition in between us and Elliot. When it was clear his brother couldn't hear us, he spoke softer and gripped the steering wheel, "I'm not stupid, Emerson."

"Well, this clearly wasn't the smartest thing you've ever done!" What if we broke up? What if he hated me because I was permanently etched onto his fucking skin and he resented me for it? What about his relationships that could happen after me? I'd be mad if Jacie's name was written across his neck.