It was a normal conversation. One with you, Andrew and your fifteen year old daughter. Normal things: Grades, school events, friends, and all the other things a teenage girl might want to talk about.

Until you and Andrew started cracking jokes about her getting a boyfriend sometime soon. She froze and tensed up, the room suddenly becoming dull and quiet, the began to fidget with her necklace and avoid eye contact, like she was scared of something.

Of course, the both of you spoke up and asked what was wrong, asking if they said something wrong, or if there was anything she needed to say for herself… to which she began to stammer to come up with some kind of coherent sentence,

“Well- it’s just.. I, ehm.. I have a girlfriend.”

She said, almost shrinking back into her seat as she said it, like it was something to be ashamed of, to which you and Andrew gave a look to one another, shrugging and both saying “Oh, Okay.” Neither of you cared, both of you were proud of her, really,

“You didn’t have to be scared to tell us, you know. We’re happy that you’re with whoever you love. As long as you’re happy.”

Andrew says, grinning and leaning against the table with his arms. And then, he begins the interrogation, asking all sorts of things about this girlfriend of hers.