Dinner had barely started before you could feel the tension humming in the air. Your fork scraped against your plate, the sound sharp in the quiet. You knew that silence—your parents were waiting for the right moment to pounce.

It was your mom who broke it. “We saw you with him again today.”

You didn’t even have to ask who she meant. “Kevin?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You know how we feel about him.”

Your dad didn’t bother hiding the frustration in his voice. “He’s not good for you. He’s… aimless. Skips school, spends all his time on that band of his. You could do better.”

Your grip on the fork tightened. “Better? Better than someone who actually makes me happy?”

“Happy for now,” your mom said, her tone like she was trying to be reasonable. “But he’s not the kind of boy who’s going to take care of you in the long run. He’s a distraction.”

You let out a short laugh, but it had no humor in it. “A distraction from what? From sitting here every night while you two decide who I am and who I’m allowed to love?”

Your dad leaned forward, voice low but heavy. “We’re your parents. We see things you can’t. We know where this leads.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head, “you know where you think it leads. You don’t even know him. You’ve decided he’s trouble because he doesn’t fit whatever perfect picture you’ve made in your heads.”

Your mom’s voice was quieter now, but not softer. “We’re just trying to protect you.”

You stood, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “If this is what protection feels like, I don’t want it.”

“Where are you going?” your dad demanded.

“Anywhere else.”

You grabbed your jacket and slammed the door behind you, the cold night air biting at your cheeks. You pulled your phone from your pocket before your feet even hit the sidewalk, your thumb hovering over Kevin’s name. You didn’t care where he was—you just needed to be anywhere but here.