Justin

"You've really taken your medication?"

I press my forehead harder against the cool surface of the window of the car and stifle an annoyed groan. "Yes," I reply through gritted teeth. "I took it an hour before we left, Mom."

Though I don't look in her direction, I know she's looking at me with that usual saddened, pitiful look that I've come to despise. Yeah, I get it – Mom cares about me and loves me, but that look just kills.

"It's going to be fine," I continue. "Addie's parents and her aunt are there tonight."

This time I dare to glance at Mom. Her stiffened posture has relaxed a little now that she knows there's going to be someone who knows the situation in the building. "You know it worries me, right?" she asks softly.

I sigh. "I know it does. It worries me. It worries everyone. The unpredictability of it all."

Mom pulls up in front of the restaurant and shifts into park, swivelling in her seat to look at me. "I just want what's best for you."

I subdue the spark of anger I feel. I just want what's best for you. I hate that saying. I feel like it categorizes me; throws me into a category that's anything but normal.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I jump out of the car. "Thanks for the ride. I'll text you when we're finished."

If Mom is offended by my lack of acknowledgement, she doesn't show it; she smiles at me and wishes me good luck on my first date and tells me to take as much time as I want.

I stare at the taillights as they meld in with the noisy traffic of downtown Kelowna, thinking about what Mom said about wanting the best for me. The best for me. Hah. Unless someone comes up with some type of cure, I'm screwed. Shaking my head, I turn to the entrance of the restaurant. I need to get into a better mood. I have a date with the prettiest, funniest, kindest girl I've ever met.

Inside the restaurant is abuzz with chatty people, great music, and overall, a happy, carefree vibe. The style is contemporary with some rustic features. The floor is old, washed-out oak, the walls are painted a warm greyish-brown, save for the back one that is completely made out of brick. Potted plants spot the area, giving it a homey feel. It's stunning, but I think my favourite part is the oversized wooden Canadian flag that resides over the bar area. I find myself in awe with how Addie's parents designed and decorated the place.

Dressed in sleek black pants and a white top with her dirty blonde hair tied in a high ponytail, Sophia's mom walks up to me and says, "Addie's at the back of the building in the booth that has the best view of the lake."

I thank her, and I mentally thank Addie for inviting me to the Halloween party. Meeting her family before we started dating is working to my advantage. I don't feel nearly as nervous now that I can put a face to a name.

As I weave my way through, I find myself tugging at my shirt and smoothing out my hair. Honestly, I'm a little scared that I've underdressed; that a black leather jacket, a white T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a pair of Converse aren't enough.

However, when I see Addie sitting at the booth and stirring her lemon ice water repeatedly with the straw, that self-doubt dissipates. It seems as though she went for the casual-yet-somewhat-formal look. Thank God.

Knowing that she hasn't seen me yet, I stop and admire her from afar. From the way her shirt hangs off her shoulder to the way her hair outlines her face, she looks perfect.

How did I get lucky enough to snag a girl like her?

A couple more seconds of gazing at her, I also realize that she's waiting for me. I instantly feel a pinch of guilt. How long has she been waiting? I hope not very long.

"Hey," I smile, sitting across from her.

Addie jumps a little and drops the straw from between her thumb and index finger, but her shock is quickly replaced by a sweet, warm smile – the kind that makes this place seem a million times warmer than it is. "Hey."

"You haven't been waiting too long, have you?" I ask.

Addie shakes her head. "About five minutes. So not too long. You didn't have trouble finding the place, did you?"

"No," I reply reassuringly. "Mom was just a little wary about the driving conditions. That's all." It's a partial lie – it did snow today and the roads were a little icy, but the main reason why I'm a few minutes late is that Mom didn't believe that I had taken my meds early. We got into a bit of a spat. I loathe taking meds and Mom knows it, so she found it hard to believe that I'd willingly taken them early. But I can't tell Addie that.

"Totally agreeable and understandable," Addie agrees.

For the first time since meeting Addie, I notice a slight difference in the way she talks when comparing her to someone like Sophia. She rolls the letter r differently than most people I know. I frown. "Do you have an accent?" I ask bluntly.

Addie smiles and shrugs. "My dad is from Montréal and inherited the accent from his dad. So, yeah, I do. It's not nearly as thick as Dad's, but it's still there and it comes out with certain words. Especially ones where the r is noticeable."

"Huh," I say, leaning against the cushioned backrest and crossing my arms. "That's actually pretty awesome."

Tucking one of the two loose strands of hair behind her ear, Addie looks down at her menu, smiling and blushing. "Alex's accent is thicker than mine. But that's understandable because he's basically a carbon copy of Dad. Jake's is nonexistent – it's like trying to hear snowflakes hit the ground."

"So your dad was born in Québec?" I ask.

"Yeah," she replies. "We go there sometimes to visit his cousins. Haven't done it for a while because of the boys' hockey, but I hope we go one more time before I go to college or university – the poutine there is fabulous." She glances up at the ceiling. "I love poutine."

For the first time, Addie looks unsure of what she's just said – and I'm not referring to the poutine versus butter tarts. I'm referring to the way her voice quivered when she mentioned college and university. Addie does display nervousness and stuff like that, but I've never seen her so...unsure.

Completely out of curiosity, I ask, "Where are you going after high school?"

Sure enough, Addie shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "I, um..." She blinks a couple times as if she's trying to prevent tears, and then looks at me, sighing in defeat. "I don't know," she says softly. "I have no idea what I want to do. I know I should know by now. Heck, Sophia, Nadira, and Jacey already know. But for me? I have no idea." She pauses. "To be quite honest, I despise that question. Who cares what I want to do with my life? It's my life. Not theirs. I'll figure out what I want to do eventually – better late than never, right? – and besides, I'm not going to use the money my parents have put aside for me and use it on classes that are no good."

I blink and my heart lurches. Addie's basically just described how I feel: torn between options. On one hand, I could go to college or university and continue to experiment with different meds until one cooperates with my miswired brain. On the other hand, I could stay at home and maybe apply for disability status. Either way, neither of those options are ideal.

My situation is different than hers in some ways, but it's still the same feeling in the end. We're both worried about where we belong after high school.

"Hey," I say, reaching out for her hand. When I lace my fingers with hers, I give her hand a comforting squeeze. "You're not the only one in that boat. I have no idea what I want to do, either."

The tension eases away as she squeezes back. She flashes me a weak smile. "That makes me feel a lot better."

"So, are you two ready to order?"

Both of us jump and look up. Addie's mom is standing at the edge of our table, a notepad and pen in her hands.

I shoot a quick glance at Addie. She's gaping at her mom and her cheeks are as pink as her sweater. Clearly, she wasn't expecting her mom to be serving us tonight.

Just to break the unofficial staring contest the two of them seem to be having at this moment, I clear my throat and quickly open my untouched menu, my eyes focusing in on the first thing that I see: bannock tacos with a side order of garden salad.

Mrs. Levesque writes down my order while Addie quickly flips through the menu. She does it so quickly I have this feeling that she already decided what she wanted while she was waiting for me. Addie tells her mom that she wants the Nova Scotia-inspired lobster rolls with a side of garden salad.

I'm suddenly wishing I had inspected the menu closely. I've been to Nova Scotia before – back when my parents were together and my life was what someone would define as normal – and I absolutely loved the food there. And from all the raving Addie has done about her dad's cooking, I bet they strike pretty damn close to Nova Scotia.

When Mrs. Levesque has left with our orders, Addie drops her face into her hands. "I am so sorry," she groans. "I had no idea my mom would be acting as our waitress today. My God."

"Hey," I laugh, shoving away the annoyingly invading thought that Mrs. Levesque is probably doing this for my mom. "It's all good. Nothing could possibly ruin this date."

In the beginning, when everything in my family first started to crumble, I would have despised Addie and her family for being united and close and loving; I would have been severely jealous. But, now that I'm older and have a better understanding, I admire Addie and her family, and I'm thankful that I get to experience a sliver of it. That's just how it is with Addie's family – you meet them and you instantly feel accepted, like you belong.

And, honestly, I've never felt like I've belonged anywhere until now.