" Not everyone fits a stereotype,” Zach says quietly. “Not including myself in that, obviously.”
I laugh.
“Sorry,” Zach mutters. “It’s not my place.”
My mom smiles at him. “It is your place. Especially if you’re making one of my sons happy.”
“Doesn’t matter which son?” I ask.
“Not at all. We’ve been waiting for this day. We just thought … Yeah … Anyway. We can still use the same speech.” She turns to me. “We love you no matter what, and as long as you’re happy, we’re happy. But if anyone gives you shit, we give you permission to … oh wait, we rehearsed it to say that Seth could recruit you to beat someone up, so … I guess you’re on your own.”
“Thanks, Mom. Really. "

― Eden Finley