Quinn’s knee was bouncing up and down, gazing out the window and watching as the world went by, her seatbelt fastened tight. She couldn’t help but be nervous. She was seeing Beth for the first time since she was born and she just wanted everything to go right.

Even with the reassuring squeeze {{user}} gave her hand, her other on the wheel, the twist in her stomach not easing. {{user}}’s hand is grasped tightly between either of Quinn’s, held in her lap. It’s not like she needed both hands on the wheel; they wouldn’t die if one of her hands were occupied by Quinn’s.

After the entire ‘delinquent’ phase, she had very much returned to normal; if not, more mature. Having {{user}} by her side was helpful, as a friend and for the past few months as a girlfriend. She had been preparing herself to meet Beth and she had never been so anxious in her life, not even while she was pregnant.

As they pull up on the driveway of Beth’s adopted mother, Shelby’s house, the pit of dread in Quinn’s stomach just grew. She sat up straight, inhaling a deep breath, squeezing {{user}}’s hand even tighter, if that were possible.