"You've talked to this person?" Mom asks, her concern obviously high. Dad sits next to her on the couch, his eyes directed to the ground, his hand clasped together as he leans forward onto his leans. I can't tell if he looks concerned or disappointed.

I nod my head. "Yes. I've talked to all of them." I haven't talked to all the guys that Asher told me about, but I know of them all. I was even able to Facebook stalk them. I know what they look like at least, and none of them look like psychos or murderers.

"And their parents are letting them go stay in this place with these strangers?"

"I think they know each other somehow. Some of them, anyway. Please, Mom? This is huge for me. It could be something, you know?" I hate that I have to beg, but if it gets me there, I don't care.

Dad finally looks up. "This is really what you want to do with your life? Music?"

I have to refrain from rolling my eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation is going to lead. "I know you think it'll amount to nothing, Dad. I'm not stupid. Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair soon one way or another."

Mom looks up at me, her eyes wide. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," I sigh. "Just that if this really doesn't work out, then once I graduate college I'm moving out and getting a job. You guys won't have to worry about me becoming a bum who doesn't know how to do anything."

Mom shakes her head, giving Dad a concerning look. "Honey, we know you won't be... we just don't want you putting all your time, energy, and money into something that might not go anywhere."

Even though she means well, her words still hurt. I've learned to let them bounce off of me after a while, but now that I can practically touch this small chance at having my dream it seems to hit me harder. Do they not believe in me at all?

"That's something I'm willing to sacrifice for what I really want."

"Fine," Dad finally says, standing up from his seat. "I think it'd be good for you to go. Maybe it'll show you that being young and having dreams isn't always as important as making a real living." His eyes meet mine but only for a brief second. Now I know what the look on his face was before.

I've reached my wit's end.

"I'm sorry I'm not Mikey, Dad. I'm sorry that I don't like to follow behind you and do what you like to do, or that I don't want to follow what everyone else is doing. I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you want me to say?" My heart pounds in my chest and I can feel my face becoming hot with anger and frustration. Out of the corner of my eye, Mom stands up as if she might step in between us. I know she won't.

"I know you aren't your brother, Quentin. I know that. I'm just trying to make you see that the decisions you make now are going to push you back later."

"Of course you know I'm not him. It's because I'm not a perfect social butterfly that has concrete plans for my future. I don't care what you think of me anymore because I'm doing this." I shake my head, wanting to let it all out. I refrain from doing so. "I'll be eighteen in May, so after that, who knows. I'm going, and if I don't come back, then so be it." I leave those as my parting words as I grab my keys I had thrown on the piano in the foyer and storm out to my car.

I don't stop until I get to Sam's house. The weekend is almost here and I know I won't have time to tell her goodbye before I leave tomorrow morning. I know I should've told Mom and Dad earlier than I did, but I knew they would react this way. I'm only 17, which could allow them to stop me from going, but they won't. Mom won't stop me from doing something I want to do no matter the consequences and Dad just doesn't care. He wants me to fail so I can face "reality". As if this wasn't my reality already.

I walk into Sam's house and close the door with more force than I mean to.

Sam is standing in the kitchen, her eyes wide with surprise and her mouth is full of the taco she just bit into. "Quen-in?"

I almost laugh at her full mouth and the way she said my name. As much as I want to be mad, I find a small yet short-lived smile on my face. She sets her taco on the table and covers her mouth as she finishes chewing. I walk over to her and am about to wrap her in a hug when I catch a glimpse of two other people behind her.

Sitting at the small, round table in the kitchen are two young-looking people who I assume to be Sam's parents. Her father has red hair like her, and her mother has light blonde hair. Both smile up at me as I'm taken by surprise.

"Quentin," Sam repeats with an empty mouth this time. "This is my mom and dad."

I give them a short wave and try to push away my previous anger. "It's nice to meet you guys."

Sam's dad stands up and sticks his hand out and I shake it. "We've heard a lot about you, Quentin. It's nice to finally put a face to the person. I'm Jameson and this is my wife, Naomi." Naomi stands up and shakes my hand, too. From what it looks like, they are two people who had a kid early in life and didn't get to experience a lot before that. Maybe that's why they do what they do. Still, I can't find it in me to fully be okay with the way they do things when it comes to Sam.

"Mom, Dad..." Sam groans from behind me. I have to laugh at that a little bit. Did she talk about me before we got to know each other or before when she liked me? My grin only grows with that information.

"I've heard a lot about you guys, too. You travel, right?"

Naomi beams at getting to talk about her job. "Yes! Oh, we've been all over the world. Name a country and I could probably say I've been to it." She grows overly excited about talking about her and her husband's adventures together. Even more than when she talked about Sam.

I catch a glimpse of Sam's face and can see the discomfort growing. Despite the offer they've given her, which it seems she hasn't broken the news to them about, she still doesn't want to talk about it.

"That's amazing," I tell them truthfully. I think I'd jump at the opportunity to go to different countries and see the world. But I can see the toll it's taken on their daughter with leaving her behind. "Do you guys come back to the states often?"

I catch a warning look from Sam, but it disappears quickly.

Jameson clears his throat to answer. "We do. We like to stop by in a different state each time. Then, of course, come see our girl." He throws one arm around his daughter's shoulders and pulls her close.

Sam's grandpa saunters into the room then, a blank expression on his face. At this point, I don't think he's surprised to see me anymore. He pours himself a cup of coffee and sits down at the table where Sam's parents join him.

"Dad, I still don't get you are your black coffee obsession," Naomi says, scrunching her tan nose.

"He says it's his daily medicine," Sam pipes up finally, sharing a smile with her grandfather. I never see him look as happy and proud as when he's looking at Sam.

"You two staying for dinner?" He asks in his low, rough voice.

Sam grabs my hand and tugs me towards the door. "Actually, we have plans. Is that okay? We won't be long. Right, Quentin?"

I only get time to nod my head before she's tugging me out the door. Our fingers laced together, we run through the crisp air towards the swings waiting for us in the woods. At first, I think she's going to start asking questions or want to talk about what just happened, but instead, I find her pushing me onto my swing and her lips pressing into mine.

I don't fight it; I don't want to. I cup her face with my hands and pull her closer to me, our lips moving synchronously. It isn't until she leans back that I stop and realize I need to breathe. I hope to see a smile on her face, but instead, I find her almost in tears.

"Sam?" I ask, standing up and holding her head gently, pushing her hair out of her face. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head and avoids looking at me, wrapping her arms around my torso and burying her face in my chest. "I feel like they aren't my parents anymore."

I'm not sure what words to use or if they would even be of comfort, so I just tighten my arms her more. It seems to be getting chillier, but I know she doesn't want to go back to the house. I lower us down at the base of the tree and lean against it, her sitting between my legs and leaning back on me.

She sits up for a second and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry. They came yesterday. They were on their phones all day with business calls or whatever. I got Dad to come out and see the calves. They haven't asked me about school yet. I've been waiting to tell them I got an A on my last science project. It's stupid..."

"No, it's not. Those things matter to you, and it's sad that they don't matter to them as much. I'm sorry, Sam." I grab her hand and squeeze it, playing with her fingers mindlessly. Suddenly with her being so heartbroken over her parents, I don't care about my problems.

She gives me a sad smile and leans back into me. "Don't apologize. It's not anywhere near your fault. Thank you, Quentin. I love you."

My heartbeat picks up at those words that I'm still getting used to. "I love you, too. So much."

"So, what did you come over for?"

"I can't just come over to see my beautiful girlfriend?"

"You looked like you were going to bite someone's head off when you walked in."

"Don't I always?"

Sam leans up again, this time turning so she's sitting facing me. She grabs both my hands and laces our fingers together. "This was worse than usual," she says with a small smile. "You can tell me."

"I told Mom and Dad about going Griffin to meet the guys. Told them I'd be staying there for the weekend. Also told them that if I don't come back..." I don't finish the sentence because as I repeat it, it sounds so stupid. Why wouldn't I come back? How stupid could I be to say that my parents that already lost one kid?

I close my eyes and gently pull my hands out of hers so I can tuck them under my arms. I'm an idiot.

"Were they mad? That was a little bit of a short notice..."

"I know. I knew they'd react that way, that's why I waited. But Dad... It's like he just can't see past losing Mikey. Everything I do he dissects and compares it to how Mikey would have done it. He told me that he didn't want me to make decisions that would push me back one day." I take a deep breath and lean my head against the tree. "He has no faith that I can accomplish this dream, and it's really depressing. What else am I going to do? Work fast food for the rest of my life?"

Sam straddles me with her arms and kisses my lips softly, bringing my mood back to surface level. I could sit here under this tree and kiss her all day, even if it is cold.

"I'm proud of you for taking this chance. You are a musical genius. Even if the whole band thing doesn't work out, you will. You'll continue to pursue your dream because that's what you want to do. God gave you a gift, Quentin. Use it." She smiles warmly at me. "Your dad will come around once he sees how amazing you are."

"That's the thing. I have to prove myself to him all the time, and I'm tired of it." I rub my hands down my face tiredly. I have to make a long drive in the morning and I'm already wondering if I'll be able to stay awake.

"Quentin," Sam says quietly, yet her voice is the loudest thing in my ears right now. "I know he loves you. I can tell, even from the small number of times I've been around him. He has a hard time showing it. Don't give up on him yet, okay?" She kisses the back of my hand and hugs it to her.

"Here I am complaining about my parents when yours are hardly ever around for you. I'm sorry."

She shrugs her shoulders. "We both have issues. It just brings us closer together, I guess."

I pull her into me again, this time locking her in. I don't want to move from this spot. I want the world to continue spinning around without us while we sit here in peace together. Talk about Heaven.

"I guess you came to tell me goodbye then, too?"

I take a deep breath. "Yeah. I was thinking about just kidnapping you."

"I'd go willingly."

"Promise you'll call me if you need me. And, you know, when you want to."

"I'll call you every second of every hour and tell you how much I miss hearing your old music, your bluntness, and all of our agreements to disagree. Oh, and especially these." She kisses my lips then, drawing me into her even more if that's possible.

"You better not," I tell her, half-seriously. "I won't be able to go one weekend without trying to get back to you as soon as possible. You can't make it harder on me."

She rolls her eyes. "You're making me swoon."

"I should also tell you that I have a notebook cover filled with your name and hearts all over just so I can stare at it when you're not with me. I wrote your name as Samara Riley so many times that it sounds like a real person at this point." She knows I'm joking - kind of.

"Man of my dreams," she giggles. "What if I want you to take my last name when we get married?"

"Who says we're getting married?"

"Me. You know I make all the decisions in this relationship."

"Oh, do you now? Good to know that." That's it. I can't take it anymore. I pull her around so she's practically laying on top of me and I kiss her like I've been dying to do this whole time. Out of nowhere, she pokes my ribs and makes me jump, losing my grip on her.

"Okay, you five-year-old. Thanks for ruining the moment."

She stands up and tries to take off running, but I grab her wrist and tug her back down to me. How did we go from wanting to kill each other to this? Even now when she tells me the reasons she loves me, I don't understand. How can something so good love something so... bad?

"Don't you forget about me while you're off chasing your dreams." The sweet smile on her lips grows wider as mine does. She lays on my lap, looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes of her.

"Never," I say in between kissing her. "I could never forget you."

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The song is Better of Half Me by Tom Walker!

So, just a little fun fact: I wasn't going to introduce you guys to Sam's parents. I don't know why, but I just never had that intention, but now you have! It was quick and slightly painful :) haha

Hope you enjoyed! <3