hey guys i know this is late but i'm on vacation now so i have a lot more time to write. anyway, hope you enjoy. be sure to comment :)

I wake up from my drunken night with Cam and memories of the night flood back into my brain. My eyes immediately widen when I recall the last words we exchanged before passing out. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. What the hell is wrong with me? Why would I leave us off on that note? We're not going to see each other for a month! Besides, we just reconnected! I roll over and find Cameron still sleeping. I swallow nervously as I take in his innocent features. Did I really mean it? Do I love him? A small voice in the back of my head laughs tauntingly at me. Of course I do. Was it the best idea to reveal it last night when we were both drunk and my emotions were an absolute mess? Definitely not.

My voice catches in my throat when I see him shift a bit and then slowly open his eyes. It takes him a second to regain his vision; he blinks once, twice, then he manages to focus on me. A small smile takes over his face as he stretches. "Morning," he says in a raspy voice.

"Morning," I reply back almost silently. He grabs his phone and notes the time, which reads 10:17.

"Are you hungry?" he wonders and I offer him a slow nod. He pulls himself out of bed and walks towards the kitchen. I trail quietly behind, wondering if he has any recollection of my slip up. My footfalls stop when the memory of his confession hits me. He said he loves me, too. Did he mean that? He doesn't even notice that I'm lost in my own mind. His arm is in the cabinet in search of something. A box of waffle mix appears in his hand and he puts it on the counter. I watch as he plugs in the waffle maker and starts on the mix. As he works, I note how silent it is. Is he just not a morning talker or is he waiting for me to break the ice about it?

I continue to mentally assess the situation over and over as he cooks us breakfast. He doesn't speak until we're sitting across from each other at the table dressing our waffles. "Am I going to see you at all over this break?" he wonders.

"Do you want to see me over break?" I ask before taking a long sip of my apple juice.

"Yes," he retorts. "I can drive to you. Or you can drive to me. Or both."

Would it be too soon for me to ask if he wants to meet my family? It'd probably be too much for him. We just got back and I already told him I love him and now I'm thinking about asking him to meet my family. That'd definitely overwhelm him. How is it not overwhelming me? "Yeah..." I trail with a slow nod. That sounds like a plan.

Our breakfast is silent for the most part. After I eat, I gather my things and awkwardly hover on his front porch. "Are you going to miss me?" he teases me with a small smirk on his lips.

"Yeah," I admit before nudging him.

I don't even have to ask because he grins widely. "Obviously, I'm going to miss you, too," he confesses. I swing my bag around slowly and he doesn't even bother hiding the satisfaction on his face. "What are you waiting for?"

"A hug," I say bluntly and he opens his arms and wraps them around me. I smile into his chest, making it a point to squeeze him as hard as I can. He laughs in my grip and after half a minute, pulls away and leaves a light kiss on my forehead. I'm almost positive I look like a content, wide eyed kid as I stare up at him.

"I'd actually kiss you but, you know, you haven't brushed your teeth," he says with a playfully disgusted look on his face. Quickly, I bounce off the balls of my feet and leave a short peck on his lips. He playfully wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. "I'm going to puke."

I slowly back away with a weak glare and a large smile. I try to wipe the grin off my face but it only results in me pursing my lips and smiling wider. "Bye," I snap at him and he grins and waves at me.

"Bye," he mocks. I gradually descend down the steps and find him still staring once I reach the bottom.

"Bye," I repeat as I tilt my head at him with a teasing attitude.

"Bye," he repeats again with a tilted head just like me. I continue down the street, glancing back every few seconds. He waves each time I do and I make it a point to groan as loud as I can in hopes that he'll hear me.

+++

"Nola, Nola, Nola," I hiss as I crawl into the front seat of her car. She watches me with a concerned expression on her face. I wave my hands about to display the urgency of what I'm about to say, seeing as I can't really speak. My breathing is too heavy due to the fact that I just shoved a months worth of clothes, along with a bunch of stuff I no longer need in my apartment, into my sister's trunk all by myself.

"Yes, Fliz?" Nola urges me as she pulls out of the parking spot.

"I messed up...kind of...I'm not exactly sure anymore," I rant as I replay last night's events in my head. Remind me to never, ever drink with Cam ever again.

"What'd you do now?" she exhales disappointedly and I don't bother giving her the offended look that I feel peeking through my face.

"I accidentally told Cam..." I trail, struggling to form the phrase with my mouth. It feels weird actually speaking the words aloud. I think it goes without saying that I love my family so I never have to go out of my way to say it. "I accidentally told Cam..."

"Okay, are you going to say it or what?" Nola snaps impatiently..

"I told him I love him." Nola's head jerks back in surprise and she mouths a few swear words before letting a slow breath pass between her lips.

"Did you mean it?" she wonders and I drag my hands down my face tiredly. "Fliz!"

"Yes, Nola, I did!" I retort in an attempt to calm her frustration. "But I wish I'd have waited longer...or at least for a better scenario."

"What were you guys doing? Did he say it back?" She eyes me curiously from the driver's seat and I keep my gaze locked on the road.

"We were both drunk and in bed preparing to go to sleep and after I said goodnight, I just...said it," I explain as I visibly cringe at the memory. "Yeah, he said it back but I don't know if he really meant it or if he said it because he was drunk or pressured and didn't want to make me feel bad."

"You slept over?" My head jumps up and down. "Did you guys talk about it this morning?"

"Nope," I concur with a grimace.

"I swear everytime you come to me for advice, it is because you did the stupidest thing ever and need me to fix it," my sister grumbles.

"Exactly, so fix this, please," I plead with my lower lip pushed out in hopes of getting sympathy.

"What the hell do you expect me to do? Go back in time and take it back? Look into the future and see how it all turns out?" Her attitude is fierce but I can tell she's relieved I said 'I love you' and not 'I'm not into you' or some other horrid thing that would break Cameron's heart.

"What do I do?" I run another hand down my face. "I know I have to talk to him about it. But what do I say?"

"How about, 'hey, remember when I told you I loved you and you said it back- did you mean that?' or something along those lines?" She speaks as though its an easy conversation to have.

"And if he didn't mean it?" I bring my eyebrows higher on my face and she scoffs.

"Well, you'll have to deal with that if it happens," she retorts. "Obviously it's going to hurt but at least you'll know."

"This communication stuff is going to kill me..." My head snaps in her direction again. "I think I'm going to meet his family."

"You think?" she questions and I give her a short nod.

"He asked if we were going to see each other over break and I said yes and he said we could drive over to see each other. Does that mean he wants me to meet his family? He would have suggested a meeting point in the middle if he didn't want me to meet them, right?" My rambling seems to annoy my sister because she cuts me off before I can dump my inner thoughts onto her lap.

"How about you ask him?" she proposes before looking over at me. "Are you going to let us meet him?"

"Uh..." I want to but I'm scared. What if he thinks my family is overwhelming? He'd be in a room with eight women who are all loud and blunt. Then again, he'd have to meet them at some point or another. Now is as good a time as any. After releasing a breath I didn't realize I was holding, I bob my head up and down, "yeah."

"Have you told mom about him yet?" When I shake my head, she lets a large grin fall onto her lips. "This should be fun."

+++

I walk into the living room and find my mother reading something on her phone with her glasses barely hanging on her nose. Her small hand raises and she adjusts them, only to have them slip back down a few seconds later. I take the spot beside her on the couch and cross my legs. I've been home for a day and all I've been hearing from Nola is 'did you tell Mom yet? When are you going to tell her? Come on, hurry up.'

My original plan was to wait to drop the news until after Christmas, which is in two days, but the house will be packed with people until New Years. By then, I'll have already met his family and he'll be asking to meet mine. The sooner she knows, the better. Besides, this is probably the only time my house will be empty for a while. All of my sisters went last minute Christmas shopping; my mother and I opted out of the hellish department store rumble and figured we'd just stay home.

"Hi, mom." I blurt with a sweet smile. Judging by her cautious expression as she locks and drops her phone, I can tell she's expecting me to ask something of her. I only continue to grin hopefully and it proves to be contagious because her eyes crinkle and her lips turn upward slowly.

"Yes, Felicity?" she mocks my tone. She removes the glasses from her face, folds the arms in, and places the accessory on the table.

"Can a...friend of mine come over for dinner?" I attempt to start the conversation before getting ahead of myself, "not tonight but sometime before I leave- probably in January after all the Holidays."

My mother's thinning brows tug together and she offers me a surprised blink. "Yeah, just let me know when," she assures me and I awkwardly tap the tips of my fingers together. Where do I take the conversation now? I was hoping she'd ask more questions, like who would be joining us. "Do I know this person?"

"No." What do I say now? "But I want you to meet them. And they want to meet you...and everyone else."

"Who?" my mother presses after a few seconds of waiting for me to name drop.

"His name is Cameron," I inform her as I rub my palms together. My mother tilts her head at me and I feel the need to continue. I struggle to describe what we are and decide to make it as simple as possible. Besides, she's old; back in her day, you dated for three business days and then you went steady. Times have changed. "We're...uh...we're sort of dating, but don't tell anyone else that."

"Hm, how come I've never heard anything about this Cameron boy?" my mom asks and I sit back on the couch and give her a sheepish smile. I wish I wasn't having this conversation with her.

"Because I'm not very good at opening up," I explain vaguely, "but he wants to meet you. And I want him to meet you."

"Have you met his parents yet?" She seems curious as to the rate at which all of this has been developing.

"No...I actually plan to soon." This Saturday, to be specific. I plan on borrowing one of my sister's cars to get there and joining his family for dinner. He apologized multiple times about how close the day is to the holidays but explained that it's the only day his fathers are both definitely going to be home. I told him I understood and insisted that it's fine.

"What's he like?" Just like I predicted, here comes the interrogation. I prepared for this. Nola and I went back and forth with questions she might ask.

"He's funny...smart...hardworking," I list as I repress a smile. "He's very nice to me."

My mom raises her cup of coffee to her mouth and takes a slow sip. Her knowing smile causes me to duck my head, which only eggs her on more. "Can I see a picture of this boy?" I pull my phone from my pocket and find the best picture of Cameron in my gallery. When I turn the phone to her, her brows rise approvingly and I let out a long laugh. "He's cute."

"I know," I confirm with a nod. "He has the biggest heart ever."

"I can't wait to meet him," my mom coos. "You never bring anyone home."

"I know," I grunt as I rub my temples. "I'm kind of scared, but please, I'm already stressed enough, don't tell the girls."

"You have my word," my mother announces with a hand on her chest before smiling widely. "What foods does he like?"

"He'll eat whatever you make." She continues on and on with foods she's really good at making and asking me to pass on the list to him. I half-listen, half-stress the situation in front of me. Oh, boy.

+++

Even though it's Christmas and I should be excited about Santa Claus, I'm too stressed about Cameron meeting my family. I spend most of the morning (after opening gifts) thinking of ways to break the news about him to my sisters. They may not all know much about my love life but they're all aware that commitment is not my strong suit, so I know I'm not going to hear the end of it from them. I'll undoubtedly have to deal with teasing about how head over heels I must be for Cam if I'm bringing him home. I also have to threaten all of them to ensure that they don't lean across the table while he's here, cup their hand, and hiss 'he's cute!' at me like I don't already know.

I'll have to tell them one at a time just to be sure they each understand the severity of the consequences if they embarrass me. I also want to show them a picture of him so they won't be surprised when he walks in. I'm already expecting five 'damn's and maybe two follow-up 'does he have brothers?' They all need to know about him before I meet his family on Saturday. Somebody needs to help me pick out something to wear.

I look up from my plate and lock eyes with my mother, who tilts her head at me. I should probably be participating more in the discussion. All of my sisters are here and making conversation. I zoned out after we all thanked each other for gifts; that was the last time I was expected to contribute. My mother clears her throat and looks around the table. "We're going to be having a guest over for dinner soon."

"Uncle Bob?" Rowena asks and my mom furrows her brows in confusion. 

"No, your sister's friend will be visiting," my mom corrects. Everyone shares confused looks, all except me, of course.

"Who?" Jorja blurts, growing tired of playing "which sister?" The only one who even spares me a glance is Nola. Everyone else's eyes brush right past me–typical. 

"Felicity," my mom clarifies before winking at me. Way to give it away, mom.

"Friend?" Jorja asks. "Like Gen?" 

"No, his name is Cameron–," I start to explain.

"A boy?" Rowena blurts. "Is he your boyfriend?" 

"Flizz with a boyfriend? No way!" Immediately, my sisters erupt in questions.

"Is he cute?"

"How old is he?"

"Where's he from?"

"Is he rich?"

"What are his political views?"

"What does he look like?" 

I look up at my sisters and make it a point to lock eyes with each and every one of them. With a hot face, I start to give a brief biography of Cam. "His name is Cameron. He's 20 and is from Queensburg. We go to school together. I'll show you a picture of him now. And he isn't my boyfriend–" I attempt to defend myself. They all look at the picture on my phone and giggle amongst themselves. 

"Okay, so if he isn't your boyfriend, why is he coming all the way over here from Queensburg to meet us?" Bellamy blurts.

A chorus of "true's" come out and I glare at my sisters. "I can't have a friend over?" I snap.

"You never have friends over," Nola mutters and I shoot her the most menacing look I can muster.

"And this is why," I explain to them.

"How long have you two been together?" This question starts a flurry of more relationship-related questions. This is exactly what I was afraid of; and if I don't answer them, they'll just ask Cam themselves. They have no shame.

I glare at my mom, who cackles at the havoc she's created. She knows what she's done. "He's coming over for dinner sometime in January before they go back to school so keep your schedules open," she continues to stir the pot. My sisters start telling me days that won't work for them, including the high school reopening, club meetings, and work. I don't even bother acknowledging the dates and decide that whenever Cam says he can come, then that's when Cam will come. Whoevers there will be there.

I somehow manage to shift the conversation from Cam, even though he manages to stay on my mind for the rest of the day. I call him at 10 in hopes that he's finished all of the festivities and can chat for a bit. It rings twice before he answers and I feel my chest inflate. Even though we've texted on and off all day, with him sending me the Christmas pictures his family took, I still feel as though it's been a while since we've talked. Given, things have been busy since we've arrived home.

"Hi," I say as I pull my legs onto my bed and cross them. "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course," he assures me. "How was your day been?"

"You came up...a lot." I wear a small grin on my face as I imagine his expression. I know he'll be happy to hear this, which makes me happy.

"Really?" As I predicted, his voice raises a few octaves and he seems elated.

"Yeah, I told my mom about you," I admit. "And then she told my sisters. They're all excited to meet you." I suddenly realize that we've never outright said we'd be meeting each others families. Thinking quickly on my feet, I cough a little and decide to add: "you know, whenever you're ready."

There's a silence and it makes my heart race. Am I rushing things? I really hope not. I already told my entire family he'd be coming over soon and that they could all meet him. "You do plan on meeting my family on Saturday, right?" he finally speaks up.

"Yes!" I seem eager in my response. "I've already been trying to pick out an outfit. But I just wasn't sure if we were on the same page."

"I can't wait to meet your mom...and I'm a little scared to meet your sisters," he confesses. I smile up at the ceiling as we continue to go back and forth for a little while before he interrupts with a burning question. "What did you tell your family we were?"

"Well, I told my mom that we're dating and tried to save you some trauma by telling my sisters that we're friends. But once one said we're boyfriend and girlfriend, they kind of just ran with it," I blurt before backtracking, "but I could always tell them something different and beat the truth into them if you want a different title." 

He lets out a quiet chuckle. "You know, for such a blunt and upfront girl, you have a hard time making declarative statements when it comes to us." My heart nearly stops when he refers to me and him as 'us'.

"I don't want to assume things. Two week ago I couldn't touch you, a few days ago we were making out on your couch, and now we're making plans to meet each other's families," I explain my reasoning.

"Is this too fast for you?" His voice is concerned but I can sense the worry behind it.

"No, no, no," I insist, even shaking my head on my side of the phone. "I told you before- you dictate the pace. We just never sat down and had the conversation about what we are, so I tried to balance it somewhere in the middle. I figured dating was a safe bet but my sisters can be a lot, and I don't want them to bombard you with questions."

"If it makes you feel any better, my dads have been calling you my girlfriend," he blurts and my eyes widen substantially. "Well, not outright, but when I told them that you're coming over on Saturday, they asked if you were my girlfriend. I hesitated a bit, and then they started teasing me, so I said that we're dating; they've been telling my siblings that you're my girlfriend. I haven't corrected them, though. Of course, you know, I will ask you in due time properly; I just figured it makes it easier for them to understand. Old people, you know?"

For some reason, the normal chill of fear I'd have at the idea of being anyone's girlfriend never comes. In fact, quite the opposite happens. My heart rate increases tenfold at his use of the word 'girlfriend' when talking about me. It takes me a second to regulate my breathing and I have to press my hand to the phone to hide my rapid breaths. "Do you want me to be your girlfriend?" I ask like an idiot. Obviously he does if he lets his dads call me that.

"Yeah, but that's a conversation to be had in person," he casually responds as if my heart isn't doing 130MPH in a school zone.

We continue to make conversation until my sisters abruptly barge in my room to get me to go downstairs and play a new board game we got. They halt when they see I'm on the phone and I give them all threatening glares. "Hey, Cam?" I'm going to end the call now before they can shout embarrassing things at my phone. Rowena lets out a girlish giggle when she hears me say his name.

"Yes, Flizzy?" His voice is very clearly tired but happy, nonetheless.

"I'm going to call you tomorrow. My sisters are forcing me to play a game with them," I tell him as I watch Arya wave around the long rectangular box in her hands like a madwoman. Thankfully, Nola keeps them at bay by shushing them whenever they talk.

"Okay, call me whenever," he insists as he lets out another yawn. "I l...I'll let you know when I'm up."

I'm almost positive he was going to say that he loves me. Why'd he stop? I decide not to spend too much time contemplating a response and instead, go with a more generic one. "Goodnight, Cam. Text me in the morning."

As I heave myself out of bed to join my sisters, I slowly start to worry about the unavoidable conversation about those three words.