The smell of garlic bread should have made the house feel warm and safe, but tonight it just pressed in around you like a trap. You sat at the dinner table across from your parents, trying to ignore the way your mom kept glancing at you between bites and how your dad’s jaw was tight enough to crack.

Finally, your mom put her fork down. “We need to talk about Kevin.”

Your stomach dropped. You knew exactly where this was going. “What about him?”

“He’s not the kind of person you should be spending so much time with,” she said carefully, like she thought softening the words would make them sting less.

You frowned. “You don’t even know him.”

Your dad leaned forward, his voice low but sharp. “We’ve seen enough. He skips school, he plays in that… whatever you call it—metal band? And he’s always hanging around instead of doing something useful with his time.”

“He works on his music,” you shot back. “And he’s actually good at it. You’d know that if you ever gave him a chance.”

Your mom shook her head. “We’re not saying he’s a bad person—”

“Yes, you are,” you cut in. “You’ve been saying it since the first time I mentioned his name.”

“He’s a distraction,” your dad said flatly. “We don’t want him pulling you down with him.”

Your chest burned, the heat rising fast. “Pulling me down? You mean making me happy? Making me feel like I can actually be myself?”

Your mom’s mouth tightened. “Sometimes the people who make you feel good aren’t the people you should be with.”

That did it. You pushed your plate away and stood up so quickly your chair nearly toppled. “You have no idea who he is. You don’t know how he treats me, or how much he’s done for me when nobody else bothered.”

Your dad’s voice rose, matching your own. “We know enough to see that you’re changing, and not for the better!”

You laughed bitterly, grabbing your jacket from the back of the chair. “Maybe I’m finally changing into who I’m supposed to be, and you just can’t stand it.”

Before either of them could answer, you were at the door, yanking it open. The night air hit your face like a splash of cold water, and you didn’t look back as you slammed it shut behind you.