Adelaide 

After our stomachs are full with the delicious dinner and dessert my dad obviously put extra effort into – I could tell by the extraordinary presentation the dishes displayed when Mom served them – and the hours we spend talking about endless topics, I ask Justin if he wants a tour of the restaurant – the kitchen, the staffroom, et cetera. He agrees after making a joke about waddling around like a penguin after eating so much.

"What was that dessert again?" Justin asks as I lead him to the kitchen, my hand clasped around his. For a moment, I relish in the feel of his soft, warm hand in mine.

"It was, um, butter tart cheesecake," I reply, blushing at the fact I was just obsessing over his hand. "It's a signature dish because it's Mom's favourite, and, well, Dad is a bit of a suck-up to Mom."

Justin tries to cover up his laugh with a fake cough.

"What?" I laugh, pushing one of the doors to the kitchen open. It's your usual stainless-steel commercial kitchen, so to a random person, it wouldn't mean anything. But it means a lot to me. When Jake and Alex were still too young to come to the restaurant, they stayed with our grandparents, and I came with Mom and Dad. This is where I learned how to bake bread, sauté onions and garlic, and make the basic base for an epic chicken noodle soup. This is where I bonded with my parents. "It's true."

"What's true?" Dad asks from behind the sink.

I smirk at him. "That you're a total suck-up to Mom."

Justin and I spent so much time lost in conversation that we're close to closing time, meaning the kitchen has been shut down and Dad is washing the last of the dishes while Mom dries them.

My parents laugh.

"Well...he did stick around even though I forgot all about him," Mom jokes. "And he tried as hard as he could to get me back."

Dad rolls his eyes. "That doesn't make me a suck-up."

Mom and I exchange a look. "Maybe just a bit of a suck-up then."

"Nope," Dad disagrees, wrapping an arm around Mom's waist and pulling her close. "It makes me persistent. I wanted Mir, so I went after her."

Mom smiles and plants a kiss on his cheek. "You sure did."

A lot of my friends would consider my parents' behaviour extremely weird because, let's be honest, most parents don't display their love for each other in front of their daughter's boyfriend or friends, but I think it's cute. And Justin seems to too because he's looking and them and smiling.

My heart skips a beat. Finally. Someone who doesn't think it's weird.

"Okay," I say. "I'm going to show Justin the staffroom before we see something that will mentally scar us."

Justin clamps a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from laughing aloud.

Mom points a dry spatula at me. "You've been hanging out with Uncle Hart too much, honey." She then points it at Justin. "And you are encouraging her, young man."

Justin and I both burst out laughing, and I'm suddenly no longer upset with my mom for being our waitress. She's breaking the tension that usually comes with a boyfriend meeting their girlfriend's parents. I love her for that. I know that, technically, Justin has already met Mom and Dad, but we weren't dating at that point and now we are. We're on a whole new level here. 

Dad winks at me and makes a motion for us to get going.

So we do; we exit the kitchen and I lead Justin over to the staffroom. It's also fairly basic: a rectangular room with a medium-sized table in the middle, some comfy chairs surrounding it, a laptop and a small desk in the far corner, and some lockers where people can store their stuff while they work their shifts. The floor is the same as the restaurant and the walls are painted the same colour as well. The one free wall is saturated with pictures that range from staff to family to landscape pictures that staff members have taken. Some of mine are even up there. It's one of my favourite parts of the building because it reminds me of my bedroom.

Because it holds memories.

"I love this place," Justin says, sitting down in one of the chairs. "The food, the staff, the setup – everything is perfect."

"Well," I say, "the offer still stands. We always have room for people here." I don't mention the fact that him working here would give me permission to put up a picture of us on the wall.

He smiles at me but doesn't reply, and I interpret that as him thinking about it.

That's good enough for me.

"Speaking of jobs," Justin mutters, pulling out his wallet. "How much was dinner?"

I blink at him. "What?"

He gestures to his leather wallet. "Isn't that what the guy does?" he asks. "Pays for dinner on the first date?"

I shake my head. "It's on the house." Justin opens his mouth to say more, but I hold up a hand. "Seriously, Justin – it's fine. I think my mom and dad enjoyed this more than we did."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

With a certain hesitance, Justin slips his wallet back into the pocket of his alarmingly attractive black leather jacket. It's tight-fitting and gives him a bit of a badass vibe. So hot. "Okay. But I'm getting the next one because I know somehow, you're the one paying for this."

Technically, he's got a point. Though it would be Mom and Dad that are paying for it – they gave me the money to do the grocery run for tonight's high level of attendance. But I don't let him know that, so I just shrug it off. "Okay."

My response comes out a little shaky, but it's mainly because of excitement. The next one. So my first date wasn't a total disaster like I was worried it would be. He obviously can tolerate me enough to want to go out again.

"A-again?" I ask before I can stop myself.

Justin blushes and looks away. He rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, yeah, if you want to..." He trails off and glances at me. "I know I want to," he adds quietly.

The look on his face makes my heart sink. He looks upset. Crap. Maybe I've gotten the wrong message across by asking that. "I want to, too!" I exclaim. "I really do."

"Great," he smiles.

"Great," I nod, sitting down in an empty chair beside him. The chairs are so close that our thighs are pressing together, knees skimming. I swallow thickly. I'm not used to feeling so...happy and lightheaded. I mean, I am a happy person and all. It's just strange knowing that someone wants to be more than friends. Being with Justin is like I'm stuck in a constant epiphany – striking and wonderous at the same time.

"So," he says slowly. "I've got a Chem midterm coming up..." He looks at me and shrugs.

"You don't need to ask," I reply instantly. Little does he know that I enjoy being his tutor for Chem. Though it's not particularly fun, it still means I get to spend time with him. "When is it?"

"The Thursday before the Winter Holidays."

I do the mental math in my head. We've got just over a month to work and make sure he knows the material. "Okay. We'll schedule it for days that I don't work or have basketball practice. Sound good?"

He loosens a deep breath and meets my eyes. I'm used to seeing blue eyes every day in the mirror – my own eyes are blue, of course! – but his always catch me off-guard. They're a couple of shades darker than mine with a hint of turquoise around the pupil. They're mesmerizing.

We stare at each other for a moment, the magnetic pull between us becoming stronger and stronger with each second that passes, and then he leans forward. My breath catches in my lungs and I stay frozen in place, stuck in anticipation.

When his lips touch mine, I'm instantly consumed by the kiss; caught up in the moment we're sharing alone and together. It's a perfect kiss – he tastes sweet and delicious, like the dessert we shared earlier, his lips are soft, and his hand on the back of my neck causes shivers to caress my spine like flames licking the air.

It's a kiss I wouldn't mind becoming permanently lost in.

And I kiss him back just as fervently, wanting more of him. My arms wrap around his neck and I pull him closer.

It's a beautifully innocent, promising kiss.

"Ahem."

Justin and I split apart like lightning striking a tree in two, and we both turn around to see my dad standing in the doorway of the staffroom.

Crap.

Looking amused, Dad gives us his signature cocky smirk and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "Helene is here. Mira and her are already discussing wedding plans for next year. If you two want to include some input, you best get out there."

My mouth drops open. The one time Dad teases me and Justin is here. I glance at him. He's also gaping at Dad, blushing furiously, too. It makes me feel better that I'm not the only one that's appalled by what Dad's done.

I make a mental note to murder him in his sleep later. No – wait. I'm going to sabotage the Montréal Canadiens jersey he's had since he was fifteen and was signed by Brendan Gallagher. That's a much better punishment. We'll see how he can live with that.

Justin and I get up and start heading for where Mom and Helene are supposedly talking about future wedding plans. And because Justin his ahead of me, when we pass Dad, I toss shade in his direction by muttering, "You better watch your back."

Dad's shoulders are shaking he's laughing so hard.

When Mom and Helene see us, they instantly stop talking, and I catch a glimpse of what appears to be sorrow on Mom's face. I frown to myself. That's odd. Mom is rarely upset. I wonder what they were talking about.

"How was it?" Helene asks.

"Perfect by the looks of it," Dad calls out from behind.

I close my eyes and groan. "Am I allowed to bury myself in the snow and die from hypothermia yet?" I murmur to Justin.

"Not without me," he mutters back.

We both laugh.

"Yeah, it was good, Mom," Justin replies when we're finished laughing. "Better than good."

I feel like I just chugged a mug of hot chocolate with toasted marshmallows on top – I'm all warm and toasty inside.

"Oh, that's wonderful, Justin," she says.

The way she says it makes me do a double-take. I know the first date going perfectly is good and all, but she seems a little overexcited about it. I can't understand why, but maybe she's just happy that her son had a good time. So I don't let it bother me.

"The food was amazing," Justin adds, making sure his voice is extra loud.

"Damn right it was," Dad calls back.

I roll my eyes and make eye contact with Mom. She's got an amused grin on her face and she's shaking her head because she knows dang well that Dad is totally acting like Jake and Alex sometimes do.

Over the course of the next five minutes, Justin and I say our goodbyes and make sure we have the date for our next study period set.

When the door closes behind Justin and Helene, Mom begins to speak. "I really like Justin. He's a sweetheart." She sits down on one of the barstools.

"Apparently he's a good kisser, too," Dad jokes.

"Oh my God," I groan, turning on my heel and heading for the staffroom to collect my bag. "Okay, it's official. I'm moving out!"

I exit the room with Mom and Dad laughing ridiculously behind me and my cheeks burning.

But even the embarrassment and my dad's immature antics can't ruin how I feel about how tonight went. 

Perfect.

Absolutely perfect.