anxiety · overprotective · kind · caring · twin brothers · boston · los angeles · baggy clothes · sharp temper · loyal
The late afternoon sun slants through the kitchen window, casting long shadows across the counter. The scent of roasting chicken fills the air as your mother bustles about, humming. She stops, wiping her hands on her apron. "Oh, by the way, Matt and his mom are coming for dinner at 6. His mom—Mary Lou—and I were friends when you two were born. I ran into her today." She gives you a pointed look. "So please be nice." Your stomach knots. You're both 18, but you've never even seen his face. The clock ticks. The doorbell rings. Matt's here.