83. Andrew's House.

Mia.

My heart raced in my chest as I sat at the dinner table, anxiously fidgeting with the napkin in my lap. The weight of my deceit weighed heavily on my conscience, and I couldn't shake the guilt that consumed me. I had lied to my dad, telling him I was going to a friend's house to work on a group project, but instead, I found myself sitting at Andrew's house, sharing a meal with his parents.

When Andrew first invited me, my anxiety soared. I knew his mom had a disapproving attitude towards me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was merely there to be judged and criticized. However, Andrew insisted that his mom was difficult with everyone, and he reassured me that she wouldn't even remember the names of half the students she had punished. I couldn't help but retort that she would likely remember me since Andrew had defended me against her in the past. But Andrew's pouting and guilt-tripping wore me down, and I eventually gave in to his persistence.

Now, sitting at the dinner table, I tried my best to appear composed while engaging in small talk with Andrew's parents. I stole glances at Andrew, who seemed completely at ease, smiling and chatting away as if everything was normal. Despite my nervousness and the guilt gnawing at me, I couldn't deny the joy I felt being in Andrew's company. I cherished the way he made me laugh and his genuine care for me. I wanted to make him happy, even if it meant deceiving my dad and enduring an uncomfortable dinner.

As we ate, I strained to engage in conversation with Andrew's parents, putting on a charming smile and responding politely to their questions. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that his mother's eyes were constantly watching me, scrutinizing my every word and action. I felt like a trapped mouse in a cage, counting the minutes until the evening would finally come to an end.

Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I glanced around the dining room, feeling a mix of apprehension and unease. Twirling my fork around a piece of pasta, I attempted to maintain a facade of ease while engaging in polite conversation. Andrew's mother broke the uncomfortable silence, her tone dripping with iciness. "So, Mia, Andrew tells me you're quite the scholar," she remarked, her words laced with a subtle hint of condescension. "What do you plan on doing with your education?"

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I cleared my throat and prepared for the impending interrogation. Ignoring the disapproving undertones in her voice, I mustered a reply. "I'm not entirely sure yet, ma'am. I'm considering pursuing a career in law or perhaps something in the field of science."

"Law?" she repeated, arching an eyebrow skeptically. "That's quite an ambitious choice for someone like you."

Embarrassment flushed through me, and I felt Andrew's reassuring hand reach out under the table, giving mine a comforting squeeze.

"Well, I'm actually thinking about studying environmental science," I responded, mustering the courage to share my aspirations. "I'm really passionate about sustainability and I believe it's crucial to work towards a greener future."

Andrew's mother let out a dismissive snort. "Hmph. And how do you expect to make a decent living with a degree in environmental science? It seems like a useless field to me."

Embarrassment and anger surged within me, heating up my cheeks. "I don't think it's useless at all. We need people who genuinely care about the environment and are committed to making a positive difference."

Andrew's younger brother, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "I think that's really cool, Mia. I love nature too. Do you have any favorite animals?"

Feeling a slight ease in the tension, I turned to the young boy with a smile. "Oh, I absolutely adore otters. They're incredibly playful and adorable. How about you?"

"I love sharks, and I want to be a scientist too!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with excitement.

Grateful for the change in topic, I focused on him. "Really? What kind of science interests you?"

"I'm really into biology!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. "I want to become a marine biologist and study sharks."

Genuinely captivated, I couldn't help but smile. "That's amazing. Sharks are such fascinating creatures."

The conversation flowed more naturally from there, and I felt the tension in the air gradually dissipate as Andrew's little brother excitedly shared his interests. Andrew's mother mostly stayed quiet, but at least the atmosphere had become less strained.

On the other hand, Andrew's father barely acknowledged my presence, casting a quick glance in my direction before seemingly forgetting about me entirely. Disappointment crept into my thoughts, wondering if I could have made a better impression on him by dressing more elegantly or projecting more confidence.

Throughout the dinner, I stole occasional glances at Andrew, who seemed blissfully unaware of my discomfort. He laughed and conversed with his parents effortlessly, completely at home in his own environment. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy towards his self-assuredness, questioning how he could remain so calm while I practically trembled with anxiety. Despite the delectable food laid out before me, I couldn't bring myself to eat much. My stomach churned with knots, and every time Andrew's mother directed her gaze my way, my appetite vanished. I picked at my food, absentmindedly pushing it around on my plate, desperately hoping that the dinner would conclude soon.

After we finished our meal, Andrew's mother excused herself to the kitchen, leaving Andrew and me alone at the table. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the brief moment of solitude. However, my relief quickly faded as Andrew's mischievous grin caught my attention.

He motioned for me to follow him as we made our way to his room. The cozy space was adorned with posters of his favorite bands and video games, reflecting his unique personality. To my surprise, he held up a bottle of wine that he had managed to sneak from his parents' stash. But my expression remained uninterested and distant; all I wanted was to go home.

Concern clouded Andrew's face as he inquired about my discomfort. After a moment of hesitation, I confessed that I felt uneasy being in his house, surrounded by his family. Andrew's immediate response was to suggest taking me home, but I shook my head, unable to face going downstairs again.

"I don't even want to be in this house anymore," I muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Understanding flickered in Andrew's eyes. Without uttering a word, he removed his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. Then, he headed towards the window, pushing it open to let in a cool gust of night air.

"We'll escape through here," he declared, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. He extended his hand towards me, offering it as an invitation.

My fingers hesitated for a moment before intertwining with his, and together, we carefully maneuvered ourselves out of the window, slowly lowering ourselves to the ground below.

The car ride back home was filled with an uneasy silence, interrupted only by Andrew's occasional apologies for the situation. I simply smiled softly, watching the passing streetlights blur through the car window. Amidst all the chaos and discomfort, I couldn't help but realize that my feelings for Andrew might be even stronger than I had initially thought.

As we arrived at my doorstep, I turned to him and gently planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for understanding," I whispered, my voice filled with gratitude.

Andrew hesitated for a moment before tentatively asking, "Would you like me to come in?"

My heart skipped a beat at his question. Deep down, I knew that my father might not approve of our relationship, but something about the way Andrew looked at me made me want to take the risk.

I opened the door and gestured for him to enter, a glimmer of hope flickering in my eyes only to have everything fall apart.