Every day when I get up, I expect the day to be like any other day. Because… why wouldn't I?

Here's how it usually plays out: Shooting Conor a morning message, last-minute homework, waiting for Conor to reply, breakfast with the family, reading Conor's reply, school, some excitement about calling Conor in the evening, daily practice for the upcoming football season, then some free time that is either spent with work, hanging out with my friends or going to therapy. (Yes, that's right. After spring break, I talked to my dad about how much I hate being angry all the time. He suggested that maybe a professional could help. And I agreed with that.)

But what I'm looking forward to most every day is: talking to my boyfriend on the phone in the evening. It's like a reward for my efforts to get through the day without being depressed about it still being more than a month before summer break starts and I can fly to LA.

But this Friday in May wasn't like any other day. I could feel it as soon as I woke up twenty minutes before my alarm, thanks to a cramp in my calf. After I sent Conor a gif where a kitten runs up toward a camera and stumbles over its own feet (Yes, that's where we are at now. Sending each other cute little gifs.), I discovered I had left my math book in my locker and couldn't finish my homework. During breakfast, everybody was so rushed that I sat there alone most of the time. When Mom drove me to school, instead of talking to me, she listened to some 80s music and sang along to everysong (she never does that). But I knew this day would become worse from here on out when I stared at my phone at 9 am (that's when Conor gets up, thanks to the three-hour time difference) to read his reply.

Because today? Nothing.

I stared at the gif and the few words I typed and only found one grey checkmark underneath it. My message didn't even reach him. But as I learned in therapy, I tried not to work myself up too much. His phone was broken before; it might be that it happened again.

Shortly after 11 am, he eventually answered. But his reply wasn't exactly comforting. No explanation, just this:

Sorry for not responding earlier. Don't have time. I'll talk to you later. XXX

I continued to explain everything with the broken phone theory and tried to shrug it off. And when Mrs. Damaris tortured me extra hard during PE, I was distracted enough not to think about it anymore. Of course, that was until she asked me about Conor out of the blue.

"Spill it, Blakely. Did he finally decide to join our school?"

She searched for someone to scrutinize, and I immediately knew that she wanted to do her verifying-the-truth-thing. But there was no one else who even knew that Conor existed beside me. So her eyes rotated back to me.

"Not yet," I replied, hoping she wouldn't see through me because I couldn't bring myself to tell her that this was just a lie to get into the building. "Can I take off now?"

"Sure thing."

And just when I thought this had to be the most uncomfortable thing today, it got even weirder.

After showering and putting on some fresh clothes to meet Mom outside so she could drive me to my workplace in the opposite part of town, I got confirmed that something was seriously off. Because instead of Mom, Adam was waiting in the parking lot with his old Cadillac.

He leaned on his door, his long blond hair hiding his face, staring disinterestedly at his phone. He looked as if he was too cool for school. Almost as if he was hoping that some of the senior girls would fall for that. The only thing needed to complete his 1960s high school bad-boy appearance was a cigarette. But I guess breaking the strict school rules about that was even too extreme for him.

"Everything all right? Where's Mom?" I interrogated him.

"Yeah. Just some meeting she had to attend." His eyes peered through the curtain of hair.

"What meeting?"

"Beats me," he replied, snipping his imaginary cigarette away before hopping into his car.

"You know something," I said, sensing I was right by the way he avoided my view. I sat down and slammed the door.

"Asher! Careful! This car is like an old lady! You have to be gentle!"

"Do not change the subject! What is going on?"

He started the engine and drove off the school grounds. But as he turned left on the main road, I lost it.

"What are you doing? My work is to the right."

"Yeah, I know."

"Okay, this really starts to freak me out."

It felt like this was a test for all the skills my therapist tried to teach me during the last weeks to keep my anger under control. And I was sure I was about to fail that test.

"Adam!"

He concentrated on the street and turned the metal music louder. I shut the radio off.

"You better start talking to me, or I'll slam the door open while we are driving! Let's see how your door likes to slam into one of those power poles."

See, I knew I wasn't going to pass that test.

He groaned. "That's why I didn't want to pick you up!"

"Sorry, I shouldn't have threatened you. But please, you have to drive me to work. I can't just… not be there. They will fire me!"

"No, they won't. Dad talked to them already, and they said it was fine. Your colleague covers for you."

"Dara?"

"Could be."

So when Dad even talked to them, this had to be major—something they had planned for a while now.

"Where are we going?" I tried to ask as calmly as possible.

"Home."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know why! All I know is that Mom and Dad want us there for some family meeting, and they made me promise not to tell you. Happy?"

"Did something happen?"

"I don't know! And now get off my back!"

I flipped out my phone and texted Conor about what I was experiencing and how I was freaking out. And seconds later, two blue checkmarks showed me that he had read it. I hoped he would answer something comforting, but instead, he just went offline.

My legs started to shake so much that Adam was almost forced to glance at them instead of the road.

Breathe.

We drove the rest in silence, only listening to some more metal music Adam put on. And with every mile he drove, I got more nervous about what to expect. I tried to breathe, put on a fake smile, and go through some positive affirmations. But… Positive affirmations, my ass! This wasn't helping at all. I hated this—every minute of it. I was deliberately kept in the unknown. It was torture.

—

When we entered the house, Adam yelled, "We're here," and rushed off into his room, almost as if he was happy that I was someone else's problem now. My legs were shaking when Mom walked up to me. The smile on her face didn't do anything to calm me down.

"What is going on, Mom?"

"We'll tell you in a second. But you should go up to your room and freshen up first."

"For what?"

But she just pushed me towards the stairs. I could hear Dad talking to someone in the living room, but I couldn't catch a glimpse of who he was with because Mom blocked the view and kept smiling at me.

"Can someone please talk to me?"

"Ash, trust me."

I gave in and did what I was told. They're obviously set on not talking to me for now. So fighting it won't speed things up.

I walked up to my room. Carefully, as if they had planted a bomb in my bed that I had to defuse as an additional surprise, I turned the knob and pushed the door open.

And… there was nothing unusual.

It was just my room as I left it this morning. Stupid, boring, empty.

I threw my backpack with all my school stuff and the unused work clothes into the corner behind the door.

I wish I knew what was going on. She said to freshen up. But for what? Should I put on different clothes? Formal? Informal?

I slipped off my green T-shirt and plodded to my dresser to look through my options when a soft "Hey" suddenly startled me. I jumped around, ready to knock down whoever thought sneaking into my room like this was a good idea. But the sudden smile on Conor's face as he held his arms wide open made my heart jump. His black hair was hanging over his face just like I remembered it, but for whatever reason, he was wearing a black suit with a white shirt.

"I promised we would be talking later, didn't I?"

I rushed over and threw my still half-naked body at him, burying myself in his chest. For a minute or two, we didn't say anything. We just held each other. And this was as relaxing as four weeks of summer holidays.

"Are you real? Is this happening? What the fuck, Conor?"

He squeezed me into him, and I planted the wettest kiss on his mouth.

"What are you doing here?" I brushed his hair out of his face, still baffled. "And why are you wearing a suit?" Even though I have to admit how handsome he looks.

"Surprise!"

"And everyone knew except me, didn't they?"

"You can bet your ass on that. It was actually pretty challenging not to give anything away when we talked the last few days. I wanted to tell you so badly. But your baffled face was worth keeping it a secret."

" Are you staying overnight?"

"Unfortunately, just till tomorrow."

"I don't care that it's just one night. I was expecting no night, so I'm already winning."

I wrapped my arms around his back and lifted him up.

"Wait, Ash, what are you doing?"

His feet wriggled in the air as I held him up, slowly carrying him toward my bed.

"I came with my parents. They are waiting downstairs for us, with your parents!"

"So?"

Even though he kept wriggling, he let me throw him on my bed.

"I don't care that you're wearing a suit and shoes. You're going to cuddle with me. No discussion."

And then I threw myself on him, resting my head on his chest to hear his heartbeat. To reassure me that this wasn't just a dream.

"I still think we should join them soon. Because… there's a reason why we're here. Besides surprising you."

I realized that I hadn't thought that far. Why were they here? Why at my house? Why are our parents talking to each other without us? And soon with us and the whole family?

"Are you going to propose? Am I pregnant?"

He started to shake with excitement. "No, but it's equally life-changing."

That's when it dawned on me.

"Are you planning to move back here?" My voice wasn't cracking or shivering when I said that. It sounded steady, as if this was the most normal thing to say. I could have also asked him if he wanted some Mayo with his fries; my voice would have been the same.

"It might even be better than this. Depends on how you look at it."

"The only thing better than you moving back here would be if you would move in with me."

And as I searched for his face, I was surprised to find his eyes watery. But as in happy tears that were about to stream out of them. Is he for real? Are we actually talking about him living with me?

"Like—huh?"

"I didn't want to get my hopes up to high. That's why I didn't tell you. Because if things hadn't worked out, it would have been even more torturing. So… when I visited you during spring break, I realized I was more of a coward than I thought. I was unhappy in LA from the beginning. And like I told you, so were they. But despite my feelings, I didn't open my mouth. And… I didn't want that to go on forever."

"So you told them, and… they agreed with you?"

"The problem is, Mom can't get out of her contract until the end of the year, and they are heavily against me transferring during my senior year. But! Let's just say: they weren't against my proposal. And neither were your parents."

"Wait. That's what my Dad discussed with you on your last day here?"

"Sorry." He laughed and held his arm behind his head.

This can't be real. This is like a dream. No, it is the dream.

"I'm…" Looking at his smiling face, I couldn't stop beaming myself, "…speechless."

"I can't believe what is happening either."

This turned from one of the worst days to one of the best days ever. How could I be so lucky? After everything I did? Maybe my shrink is right, and everyone deserves the chance to be happy.

"So, yeah. When you wrote me this morning, I was already on the plane. We came early and visited Saint Frances today. But we must leave tomorrow 'cause Mom has to work on Sunday since she took today off."

"You were at my school and had the audacity not to say hello?"

"I even saw you from afar," he chuckled. I pushed my chin onto his chest, bouncing up and down as his upper body shook with his laughter.

"Wait, you're going to attend the same freaking school as me?"

A knock on the door interrupted us.

"It's open," I yelled as Conor and I sat up.

The knob turned, and Mom put her head through.

"Would you mind joining us downstairs now?"

—

I shook Mr. and Mrs. Hart's hands as I entered the living room. Mrs. Hart was a tall woman with short brown hair and a mole on her left chin. Mr. Hart was slightly shorter than her, with a soft face and the same eyes as Conor's. Both were dressed up just like Conor and so were my parents. I felt like the black sheep now because I only put on a fresh white shirt over my black jeans.

Mom and Dad sat on the couch closest to the study, and Mr. and Mrs. Hart on the opposite one. Dad pointed to the couch that looked toward the kitchen, and Conor and I planted our asses there.

"I guess Conor already filled you in on what we are discussing?" Dad asked.

"Yes. And I'm strongly pro-Conor moving in with us."

Everyone laughed.

"That would have been my first question," answered Dad. "So, Conor, your parents and we talked. And I think we concluded that if this is really what you want, we'd be happy to take you in until your parents are ready to move back here too."

"I'm grateful you're willing to do that," Conor answered.

Dad looked at the Harts and then at Mom, who nodded at him simultaneously. "I guess it's settled then."

This is so fucking surreal. Conor moving in with us? Transferring to my school? I would get to be with him every day!

"So, would he stay in my room then?" I asked.

"Err… No," Dad answered. "We think Conor should have his own room. So he will stay in the guest room, so he has some space to focus on his studies and retreat."

"But," Mom interjected slyly, "we know we probably can't keep you apart, so Conor may decide where he wants to sleep at night."

"But only as long as both of your grades don't suffer," Dad added. "We know you guys are important to each other, but senior year is critical for the rest of your lives."

"We promise we will give our best and not distract each other all the time," Conor said.

"Most definitely," I added.

"Good. Then you're already dismissed. We'll be talking some more about the arrangements. Just be ready for dinner in about two hours. We made reservations at Alessandro's."

"Thanks, Mr. And Mrs. Blakely," said Conor and jumped up, probably also not being able to wait a second longer for him and me to be alone again. But I couldn't just leave so eagerly like him. I felt the need to say something too. And I didn't work so hard to be open about my thoughts and feelings, not to express them now.

"I…," I started to talk and didn't even know what to say. I looked at all their faces, waiting for my words to leave my mouth. "I just want to say that I'm… grateful for all of you. Mr. and Mrs. Hart, Mom, and Dad, thank you for supporting… us," I pointed at Conor and me. "It means a lot to me."

"To me, too," Conor added. I turned toward him and grabbed his hands without even thinking about it.

"And thank you for being the amazing person you are. It's freaking incredible to think that we now have a chance at a future together. I love you, Conor."

He pulled on my hands, so I would fall right into his hug. And I let it happen.

"I love you too, Ash," he whispered into my ears.

All of this felt surreal—our parents watching us being this close, me being so open about my feelings, and just the mere fact that I wasn't afraid that something might go wrong for the first time. Because I knew it wouldn't. We worked through this shit. We can work through anything. Conor and I—this was just meant from the beginning. From the moment I pulled him down from the bleachers at this local football game to show him, he had nothing to fear.

Conor released me from his hug, and I didn't know which face to look at first.

"So, yeah. That's what I just wanted to let you know."

---

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