The Difference Between Getting and Needing

f o r t y - t w o

when i take a look at my life
and all of my crimes,
you're the only thing that
i think i got r i g h t . . .

〰️〰️〰️

I knew I loved Mrs. Monahan from the very moment I met her. It was a given, really. You'd need to have a heart made of concrete not to adore that woman.

When Gus and I started seeing each other, we kept it under wraps for almost a year. We didn't want anyone else involved – we wanted it just to be us. We were young and scared, a couple of sixteen-year-old kids exploring emotions that neither of us had felt before, and we weren't about to let the opinions of those around us serve as an influence.

He asked me to prom in the spring of our junior year and we knew it was time to come clean. There was no way we could get through a teenage milestone like prom without telling our families, so we planned to take turns having the classic meet-the-parents dinner at each of our houses.

He met my family, then I met his. A week later we went to prom, and that was the night he asked me to be his girlfriend. The rest was history.

Being introduced to the Monahan's was something I could never forget. I had been in their home too many times to count without them ever knowing, but to formally meet them was like I finally made it. Gus' mom accepted me as another daughter almost instantly, his dad was petrifying in all respects, and his sisters were dying to know every detail about my life like I was some social media starlet they idolized.

Somehow, I felt more at home with them than I did in my own house.

Mrs. Monahan and I were in the kitchen once we finished dinner, myself drying the dishes after she hand-washed them even though she promised that I didn't need to help her. I refused to let her clean up alone since it seemed like the rest of her family had disappeared. Gus tried to get me out of it too, but I told him he could wait.

"You know," she said just above a whisper. We had both been pretty quiet for the most part, so her voice came as a surprise to me. I looked up from the spatula I was drying to see her brown eyes darting all around the room as if she didn't want anyone to hear her. "You're the first girl that Gus has ever brought home to us."

I felt myself smirking at the fact. I loved this woman with my whole damn heart and I hardly even knew her.

"Really?" I asked. "I feel honored."

"He should be the one feeling honored," she corrected me, and I just shook my head to ignore the blush blooming on my cheeks. She scoffed, "I'm serious, Bayla. I don't know why he kept us from you for so long. You're funny, easy to talk to, and not to mention gorgeous. Why wouldn't we like you?"

"Are we talking about the same person? Is there another girl named Bayla that I should know about?"

She giggled, giving me a loving nudge with her elbow. "I mean it. How did my son get so lucky?"

"I ask myself that every day," I said with a shrug, but she caught onto my sarcasm right away and smiled at me.

I just met her a mere two hours ago and I could already pass secrets and inside jokes with her. What more could I ask for?