"Mom, please stop." I tell my mother who is standing in my doorway, her arms crossed, for about the hundredth time tonight. She keeps coming back from making dinner in the kitchen, to my room to see if it is tidy enough. I already picked up my room but my mother was pretty neurotic when it came to cleaning so to her standards it wasn't clean enough yet.

"Sorry honey. I just want to make sure that the house, including your room, is spotless when she gets here. No young lady should have to sit in a room, trying to enjoy a movie, with dirty clothes spread everywhere and mud tracks from your cleats." She says with arms still crossed, her eyes examining my room. I have already vacuumed the room and picked up all of my dirty clothes.

"Mom, we're just watching a movie. It will be dark in here anyways so it's not like she would see the tracks on the floor." I joke.

"Dean Michael Connors." She scolds as she uncrosses her arms and walks into my room. She grabs a pillow that is on the floor and chucks it at my face.

"Okay! Okay!" I grin with my arms up in surrender.

She stands with her hands on her hips and nods with a big smile, proud of herself. "Make your bed while you're at it too. I really like Scarlett and I don't want her to leave you just because you aren't the best with cleaning." She giggles as she leaves my room.

I really like her too and I would be lying if I said I wasn't freaking out. I hear the doorbell ring and I panic. Shit. My mother peeks her head into my room and excitedly says, "Guess who's here?" She leaves again to go answer the door while I quickly pick up the pillow my mother threw at me and look around my room one more time before going out to say hello to Scarlett. I should have made the bed. It looks messy with the blankets rolled back and my pillows laying in every different direction.

I walk out into the living room where Scarlett is now sitting down with her hands folded in her lap like she is in class. Is she nervous too? She looks at me and smiles and I feel something tingle in my stomach. I can feel my palms beginning to sweat as she stands up. Fuck, really? Sweaty palms, of all things? I have never been so damn nervous. Get a grip Connors. I smile back at her as I sit next to her on the couch.

"Hey." I say. My voice unsteady. I rub my hands on my jeans to wipe the sweat off.

"Hey. It smells amazing in here."

"Well I hope you are hungry, because my mom made dinner. She has been in there for a while." I say as I stand up from the couch, gesturing to the kitchen. She nods and stands up from the couch and grabs her hair to place it back so that it no longer rests against her chest.

"I can eat." She gives a shy smile and I give her a brief and awkward hug. God, please don't let me be this damn awkward all night.

My mother has our small dinner table all set up nicely with the dinner she has prepared. I pull out a chair for Scarlett and gesture for her to take a seat. She smiles and takes a seat and I push her chair in a little, my mother smiling at the kind gesture as she sits down across from Scarlett. I roll my eyes at my mother and then take the seat next to Scarlett.

"So Scarlett, are you excited for tomorrow night?" My mother starts the conversation as she passes Scarlett the salad bowl. "Oh, Dean would you mind getting a spatula honey?" She asks me. I nod and scoot my chair back so I can get up, my chair scraping the tile.

"Yeah I am actually. I think it will be fun with all of us." I hear Scarlett tell my mom as I walk towards the kitchen. I dig through one of the drawers and find a spatula to bring back to the table.

My mom has her hand over her heart and looks like she is about to cry when I get back to the table but before I get the chance to ask her what happened, she says, "Oh my. Honey I am so very sorry, I had no idea."

"No, no it's okay. I mean it's not okay, but it isn't like it's your fault. I just don't really like to talk about it." Scarlett sounds distraught and has her head bent down, picking at the string on her hoodie.

I sit down next to Scarlett and hand my mother the spatula. "Are you okay?" I whisper to Scarlett. I don't know what the hell happened. I wasn't even gone for forty five seconds.

She nods and makes eye contact with me. "I'm fine." She lies. "If you can excuse me, I need to use the restroom." Scarlett leaves the dinner table and heads down the hall.

I turn my attention to my mother and glare at her. "Mom what did you say to her? I want to have a good time with her and right now she looks really upset."

"All I asked was if she was excited about tomorrow and then I asked her parents would be doing anything special for her birthday besides her just going out with all of you and that is when she told me her parents died. I had no idea honey, I am very sorry."

I had no idea either, she never told me. "It's okay mom. I will go check on her." She nods and sniffles, taking the spatula to start scooping up the manicotti out of the Pyrex to put on our plates.

I am about to knock on the bathroom door when Scarlett opens the door and turns off the light. "Oh." She startles. "Dean you scared me." She giggles though I can still see the puffiness under her eyes from crying.

I put both of my hands on both sides of her shoulders and look into her hazel eyes. Even when crying, she's beautiful. "Are you okay?" I ask her in a hushed tone. "My mom and I had no idea that...."

"I am okay." She sniffles, not making eye contact. I can tell she is lying and is hurting right now, but she doesn't want to talk about it. I can understand that.

"I am here if you ever want to talk about it okay." I place my forefinger under her chin and raise her head, so that she will look at me. "I am here for you Scarlett. Okay." I reassure her.

"Than.....Thank you Dean." She manages to say. Were silent for a moment, speaking with our eyes, when she suddenly pulls me to her and wraps her arms around my waist. I react and quickly wrap my arms around her, my chin resting on her head. I then hear her stomach grumble and I laugh, pulling from the hug to look at her. "Can we eat now? I am starvin marvin." She says, lightening the mood.

I chuckle and grab her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. "Come on." I lead her back to the table and she gives my mom a smile and then looks at her plate that my mother finished serving.

"Oh I love manicotti." She says with a big smile.

"Dig in." My mom tells us.