The rest of the afternoon went by helping my mother in the kitchen with simple chores like setting the table, making the salad, and taking the trash out. I added canned corn to the salad because Abby loved it. Though I wanted to replay the trip earlier, being at home felt so good—I really missed spending time here. Mom told me some tips about the meals she cooked, which I wasn't going to remember in a few days probably, but I listened to her eagerly then because it was a rare moment. We usually didn't spend time together since I grew old enough to go out and hung out at parties rather than at home.

"Go rest a little," I said when we were almost done with our menu except for the chocolate cake in the oven. "I'll keep an eye on the cake and take it out when it's ready."

"Sure you won't burn it?" My mom asked hesitantly. She wanted everything to be perfect, though it was just Abby. However, whenever I remembered this fact, she said it was the first time I brought my girlfriend home, so it was special. Well, I admit it made a giddy feeling in my stomach when she said girlfriend.

When she was assured that I could handle the rest, she left the kitchen, leaving me with the dim light and a cake in the oven still about to swell. I watched my mother bake a cake a few times before and I would understand when it was ready. Bored, I pulled out my phone to text Abby to ask when she would arrive but Brandon's message on the screen altered my attention.

Yes.

I gotta ask Abby, will let you know ok?

We are not official but yeah.

I probably gave him enough information to cook up a rumor about me dating Abby, but I wasn't bothered by that—well, in our situation, it was the case, but we didn't announce it yet. I suddenly remembered the cake and saw it grew enormous in the oven but didn't burn out yet. I quickly reached and opened the oven and pulled the tray out with bare hands and burned myself instead.

"Fuck," I whispered, running to the sink, and applying cold water on my burned skin to ease the pain. My mother came in immediately and checked the cake. "George," she said, looking between me and the cake. "You okay, baby?"

"I'm fine," I said as she came and checked my hands. As she grabbed a towel from a drawer to pull the cake out of the oven, she asked me to go apply the cream to prevent my hands from swelling. I did as I was told, going upstairs to use one of my mother's hand creams. I cursed myself for being so reckless, but my hands hurt like a bitch. It just hurt more when I applied the cream, but I bit my tongue not to scream. I had only one job—fuck you, George.

By the time I came downstairs, my mother was ushering my father inside, and his eyebrows tilted up when he saw my face. "Son, what's wrong?"

"He burned his hands," Mom explained, sparing me a glance over her shoulder with a smile tinted on her lips. Then, they looked at each other and started laughing as if I wasn't there. Totally annoyed, I walked straight into the kitchen to check the consequence of the cake. It didn't look bad...at least not so far as my hands. "Your head is in the clouds."

"I was texting," I replied nervously. "It's nothing to do with clouds."

"Hmm." I glared at my mother, but she totally ignored me. I stormed out of the kitchen and entered the living room, where my father sat on the couch, watching the news. "Women," I complained as I plopped beside him, "They make life fucking complicated."

Hearing my father's chuckle was surprising. He pulled his gaze away from the television to look at me briefly and said, "Thank God for women. We would be nothing without them." I was rendered speechless by that because yes, thank God for women. Gone was my anger all of a sudden, and I was lulled into a train of thoughts in a short time before Abby rang the door. I remembered I forgot to text her, but it didn't matter now. She was here.

I smoothened my shirt and went to answer the door but my mother was faster than me. She swung the door open after we exchanged a look. Abby was standing outside in a red dress and her face broke into a genuine smile when she saw my mother first. When she handed the bouquet of flowers to her, I realized she'd been holding one, and she stepped inside when my mother thanked her. "George, bring a vase to put these beauties."

With an apologetic look, I went to get a vase inside. After I brought it, we were alone in the hall since my mother took the vase and disappeared into the kitchen to place her lovely gift. "Hi," I said, tucking my hands into my pockets. It felt different to be with her in my house, and the reason she was invited was that...she was my girlfriend. Well, she didn't know it yet. "You look beautiful," I added, taking in her dress. Red looked so good on her.

"Hey," she replied smilingly. "You aren't so bad yourself."

I peeked around before leaning to give her a kiss. I managed to steal one before my mother yelled, "George, let's sit down for the meal. Tell your father to come to help me." I had to tear my gaze from Abby momentarily. She was busy with cooling off her crimson red cheeks as we walked into the living room again and I told her to sit down at the table and told my father that my mother was asking for help.

"She could have caught us," she said, once my father was out of the room.

"I can kiss my girlfriend, right?" It just came out of my mouth effortlessly that I didn't think of what I had just said until I saw the surprised expression on her face. I didn't take my words back, because they had to be told after a point and if that was the right moment, let it be. As my mother entered to serve up the meals along with my father following close, our never-starting conversation was cut off and we all settled in our seats without another word. I was seated beside Abby; my mother was sitting across from her.

"How do you like the soup, Abby?"

"Wonderful, ma'am, thank you."

My mother held my gaze before she said, "We heard about the news. Congrats." She knew Abby wasn't so fond of Susan, but she probably thought it would be out of courtesy to congratulate Abby, nonetheless. When I felt Abby tense beside me, I put my hand on her leg to ease her.

"Thanks," she replied at last, with a lower tone. My mother may have figured her fault because she didn't touch upon that subject any longer and asked my father about a completely different thing. Suddenly, the conversation turned into a political discussion and it was really boring. However, Abby seemed much more interested in this topic than she was a few minutes ago.

I preferred listening to them as they went on global and country issues. I didn't like talking about that stuff. The dinner went really smoothly though, and Abby seemed really happy engaging with my parents. I was really afraid of my mother saying something out of the way, but she kept our relationship away from the conversation, which I was super glad for.

Though I told her I could wash the dishes, she insisted that we could go upstairs with the door open. I threw her a look as I followed Abby out of the room. I didn't think the air could shift so quickly once we were in my room and I shut the door as she plopped down on my bed. "She said the door open."

"It was rhetorical." She knitted her eyebrows and I let out a breathy laugh, slumping beside her. "I mean, she wouldn't walk in without a knock and she doesn't mind. Really." Holding my gaze, she nodded. I could see the nervousness in her eyes though, and it wasn't hard to guess it was because of my unexpected mention of a girlfriend. "Are you mad I called you my girlfriend?"

"No," she said, "I'm just surprised is all."

"I just thought now that we love each other, that makes you my girlfriend." I held her hand and intertwined our fingers. She looked at our hands as I stroked her thumb with mine. "I'm new at this—like I didn't have a girlfriend before. I should have asked you first." I cleared my throat and looked up at her. "Would you want to be my girlfriend, Whittaker?"

Abby looked at me, and within that little pause, my heart skipped a beat. The fear of rejection surfaced as if we didn't already establish the fact that we were in love like it was the very first time I was ever telling her that I loved her. I waited for her answer, fearfully and desperately, praying that she would say yes because I didn't know how to handle the other option. Then, she kissed me, hovering over me as we lay down on the bed, and whispered, "I wish I could record this to listen over and over again."

Keeping my hand on her waist, I replied, "Is this a yes?"

"Yes." A kiss on my nose. "I love you."

"I love you, too." I pulled her for another kiss, shifting around so that she was beneath me. It was a bizarre dream that Abby Whittaker was my girlfriend now. I only believed it was real when her hands cupped my face and her lips grazed mine. When we pulled back slightly, I said, "Brandon texted me and he's inviting us for a party at Stacey's. Wanna go?"

"Okay."

I was rather surprised for her to accept this so soon. I was expecting resistance. Smiling, I replied, "Fine." As I was about to lean in to kiss her once more, the door knocked, and my mother's voice filled the room. I didn't know how quickly we shifted and sat properly on the bed as if nothing was happening. Abby smoothened her skirt and wiped off the stain of her lipstick on my lips with her finger.

My mother entered soon with a tray of two plates of cake and two glasses of milk. "Abby, George baked you a chocolate cake." Abby looked at him incredulously and I shrugged my shoulders. As my mother left the tray, she walked out and closed the door. She was really a great mother.

"It tastes well," Abby said skeptically, "did you really bake it yourself?"

"Yes," I said. I'd made sure it didn't burn out, so it was my cake, right? "Look, I even burned myself." She looked at my semi-red hands in horror. I really liked the attention.

"Does it hurt?" She asked as she traced her fingers. I shook my head no and her shoulders relaxed a bit. "Be careful next time, but I appreciate the effort." She took another bite with a huge smile. "Now, I'll tell everyone that my boyfriend bakes me delicious cakes."

"What did you say?"

"My boyfriend bakes me delicious cakes."

"Do you think my mother would come again?"

"Why?" She totally knew the answer, but she was teasing me. Well, that ended up me putting our plates aside and hovering over her on the bed again. To my luck, my mother didn't interrupt us.

Now that we were official, I felt like everything was finally settled in my life.

***

Kudos to everyone who had faith in me...well, the dinner went more than fine. 😎

See you next,

Sev xx