Billie and Tristan starts off good. Rules in the house and all that stuff. Then things get complicated when Billie discovers that she's starting to like Tristan. Apparently, there's a spark running along in the apartment that the two of them are ign...
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Mom and dad is not actually the biggest fan of the place I'm going to stay at. With the pictures I've shown them, they are most likely trying to think of something to say nice, or better yet, will help me out to find another one. But as much as I like to find my own place, I feel fine with Tristan's apartment. I just have to do a little touch on my soon-to-be room and it's going to be perfect already. But parents are parents and they tend to be overprotective sometimes.
Especially mom.
Oh my god. Especially mom!
"Tell me you're not going to live there for college, honey," she asks me, more of a statement actually. "Billie—"
"Like what I told dad, the place is nice. And so is Tristan. The room just needs some revamping and then it's safe to live in." I lean forward on the table. "Mom, I already feel comfortable there. And where can you even find a decent place with a decent roommate at this time of the month? I think almost everyone is on vacation. Meaning, no time to look for another one." I am clapping all too myself. Just in my head though.
Mom sighs. Dad put his arm around mom's shoulder. "I think we should just let her," dad says to her. I watch them both. I like how my parents are so sweet to each other. The tenderness in their eyes as they look at each other is priceless.
"I guess I can live with that," mom says afterwards.
"Yes!" I cheer.
"Only, in one condition..." I eye her, bewilderment feeling in. "I have to meet this guy. You should invite him tomorrow lunch."
My eyes widen in surprise at the thought of inviting Tristan over. Mom is more meticulous. She's meticulous about everything more than dad is. Everything has to be of her approval and right now, I don't think I need one of those.
I eye dad and he just shrugs, almost telling me that he can't do anything about it. In other household, the dad is the one who has the last say. Why in my family, mom has to be that person? I look back at mom and she is staring at me. Not the kind of scary stare but the challenging type of stare. She's watching me very intently, figuring me out if I'm going to protest. But who am I to protest to her? She just wants to know the guy I'm going to live with. That won't be a bother, right?
So, I sigh, holding up that invisible white flag.
"Fine," I say.
"That's good to know then. When can you invite him?" she asks.
I shrug. "I have to check with him first. Which leads me to," I walk to them, kissing both of their cheeks and walking out of the living room backwards, "I'll see you later." I close the door behind me right away to prevent them from asking me where I'm going. I hurriedly text Sadie and tell her to meet me at the city park. Good thing we live just fifteen minute-drive away from the park (almost thirty but less than one hour when walking). Dad won't give me a car until I move out for college so I still have to wait for more than two months.
