We walk into his childhood home with his hand in mine, reassuring me that it was okay, that this wasn't a panic worthy situation.
But there were six cars out in the driveway, all apart from the cars that were in their huge garage attached to the house and apart from Karsen's car and so it made me squirm.
People. There were quite a lot of people in here.
I needed to get better at my people skills, but I hadn't thought of it much before Karsen, because I never thought i'd ever be this person.
I never thought of a relationship months ago, hell I barely even thought about having any friendships, so of course I never thought of meeting my boyfriends parents one day, or his family or anything like this that i'm doing today.
Yet here I was, now in a red dress, with a tight bun on my head, holding the hand of a handsome college football player, sweating bullets as we walk together, side by side.
Life was weird.
I look around the house, liking that it wasn't as inhumanely large as I thought it would be in my head. Don't get me wrong though, it was a big house, but it showed that they only had one child and were rich, not that they had lots of kids and were rich so they had to have like, eleven bedrooms, this house probably was a four bedroom house, four bathrooms, maybe a study or something for their father to work in- look at me, I already started to create their story in my head and I hadn't even met them yet.
I shake my head at myself, even thought I tend to do that.
The further we walk in the more I notice. The walls were cream colored, more on the white side, a color not usual in a house full of children but of course they only had one kid, and that was the boy who was holding my hand right now.
We hear the laughter and chatter come further in the house. But its getting closer, which means we're getting closer.
Breathe.
I swallow hard, letting Karsen lead the way in front of me as I look around us, seeing some pictures of his mother, father and him on the wall and my worries seep away as I look at a small framed picture on the wall, it was Karsen with a football in hand, wearing a football jersey that was one too many sizes big, probably five years old in that picture.
"You always loved football." I say, pointing to the picture and he hums, looking to me behind him over his shoulder, "I'll show you all the pictures around the house after you meet them."
Those words bring back all my nervousness and he notices, bringing his hand over my skin and rubbing up my arm. "I promise, they're accommodating people baby."
"Accommodating is such a formal word to use." I tease him, forcing a smile on my face so he doesn't worry too much and it seems to work a little because he smiles back, turning around and we continue to walk till we get to the lounge area where a wood burned fire burns, making the house warmer than it was outside.
And thats when I see them... the people.
Or well, Karsen's family.
I do a quick mental head count, nine women, six men, and two kids, both boys, three people around our age, one boy, two girls. I almost choke.
They turn around at the sound of Karsen clearing his throat, the two kids who I now see are twins gasp and drop their toys, running over to Karsen, screaming uncle Karsen, all the way over and I feel a small smile etch onto my face at the sight of their flailing arms.
He doesn't get to hug them both, since both boys just wrap their bodies around either one of his legs. So he merely rubs their heads and I can't help but giggle.
YOU ARE READING
Project You (HIATUS)
RomanceAdrienne Faye's life was a mess. A big mess. A 22 year old struggling college student who was not only financially struggling, she was emotionally struggling too, a girl with no friends other than her novels and thoughts which unfortunately did not...