One day I'll have it all. // Williamson

Leah's bedroom

"You sure you're okay with it?" Leah asked me, and I let out a weary sigh, my shoulders slumping slightly.

I was technically okay with the idea of meeting her parents tomorrow. Technically. Emotionally? I was a mess.

A terrified fucking mess.

I played with the little blue cube at the corner of the pool table. Some of its blue powder coloring my skin. I wondered why this thing existed. Did it help with contact with the white ball? With what did they make that little blue powder? And how did they compact it into a cube? And why blue?

"Valentina," Leah called, and I looked back at her. Her eyes showed visible apprehension. I thought about my answer again, trying to formulate it correctly in my mind.

The clinking of two beers, a few feet away from us, diverted me again. Why were there different colors of beer bottles? What did it mean? How many colors existed? Did different colors indicate different flavors or types of beer?

"You don't have to be okay with it, you know," Leah said, and I focused my gaze on her again.

"I..." I started, then let out a frustrated sigh at my inability to formulate the sentence I would've liked. "I want to. But I'm... I'm scared. I'm very... different from you. They could like, not like me. And it's happening really fast, between us. What if they think I'm... manipulating you, or, or influencing you in a bad way? I-"

Leah listened attentively as I struggled to articulate my fears, her expression unwavering.

"Valentina," she said softly, her voice gentle yet firm. "My parents will love you because I love you. They'll see the same amazing person that I see every day. Yes, we're moving fast, but that's because when you know someone's good for you, you're not scared to go forward with them. And I'm not. I'm not scared to go forward with you."

"Yeah, but that's what you say. Because you're you, I mean... they don't know that. They don't know how we are... gosh, I can't, formulate it how I want, it's... what if they think I'm manipulating you into thinking that?"

"My parents know I'm a big girl, Valentina. I'm a grown woman. Intelligent and collected. They trust my judgment and my choices. They won't think that."

I smiled softly at her words. I loved it when Leah praised herself. Because she could. She was right. She was a strong and independent woman. Intelligent and capable of making the right decisions.

That barely calmed my fuming thoughts, though.

"You think they'll find it weird that I'm much younger than you?"

"It's six years, baby. Not twenty."

"I guess you're right," I murmured, a hint of uncertainty still lingering in my voice. "I just... I want them to like me, Leah. I want to make a good impression, you know?"

Leah smiled softly, reaching out to take my hand in hers, her touch grounding me in the present moment. "How about I give you little tips, huh? You think that'll help you?"

I considered Leah's offer for a few seconds. "What kind of tips?"

Leah's smile widened at my question, a glimmer of excitement dancing in her eyes. "Well, for starters, you're gonna have to drink tea, darling. And to pretend you like it."

I scrunched my nose in disgust at the idea, which made Leah giggle. "I hate tea. Tastes like dirty water. It tastes exactly like the water from the fountain in hum... Grand Park. In Los Angeles. When they put the little... flower boats in it for el dia de los muertos." I said, and Leah raised an eyebrow at my description, a smirk tugging at her lips.