How does he even. "I don't know, you're a lot more open to most things and you have said you're mine no matter what but I'm sure there are potentially awful things about me or my thoughts you could find out and then be unhappy about it? I'm not saying there are" though there probably are "but like, it's hard to believe there's nothing about me that you would dislike." 

"...it's not just that it's not possible for there to be anything about you that I might dislike. But... when you made your mistake about me and orgasms... do you see how, if you hadn't said anything, if you'd just kept trying until you realized it wasn't working and then concealed the whole problem from me, there would still have been a problem? Do you see how, even if I didn't feel betrayed because I never found out, I would still have been betrayed?"

(Aaaaaaaahhh!) 

"I mean," he says, choosing his words carefully since this conversation isn't going to last much longer, "you would still have been betrayed, yes. And I wouldn't have felt forgiven, I think. So its probably better that I did tell you." He's glad of her forgiveness, but, there's no guarantee of it. It would have been safer, if worse in the end, the other way. Maybe he can try to believe in her forgiveness? It still sounds terribly fake. That only ever works until it doesn't, and he doesn't want it to doesn't. He doesn't want it to end. 

"Yes," she says. "And... because I want to know things, I try pretty hard to be a person it's safe to tell things to. I can't promise I'm always great at it? But I do try."

"I'll try, then, I guess," he says, agreeing at least partly to help put the conversation to bed. They're steps from being inside. "It might be weird, but I'll try." 

She kisses him on the cheek. "Love you. Appreciate it."

He blushes a little. "I'm glad." Oh, fuck, he hasn't told her not to say anything about the love part to his parents, has he. Well. That's going to be a problem if it happens. Mom can see them, he can see her seeing them. He parks his bike. "You should probably take your skates off before we go inside," he says. "Also, Mom's home, so brace for impact." 

"I am prepared for an impactful encounter."

She sits down to take off her skates.

Mom's not coming out to greet them, maybe he can get a word in quickly? He might as well try. "Also-I-just-realized-maybe-be-careful-saying-you-love-me-if-you-can-it-might-be-weird-in-front-of-my-parents-sorry!" It might not work, but he can imagine the responses if mom sees her say that, and worse, he doesn't say it back.

"...I'll do my best."

Yeah that's about what he expected. He shrugs and smiles to indicate that he understands. Alright. Is Rosy done with taking off her skates? Is it time to deal with all this? 

She is de-skated and re-shod and standing up to enter the house!

Then... in they go? In they go. He can do this. 

His mother has retreated into the kitchen, probably for appearance purposes. "Mom, I'm home, and I brought Rosy," he calls out, just for appearances as well. He knows she knows they're there. 

A short woman comes out of the kitchen, wearing an apron over a loose t-shirt and a pair of slacks. "Rosy!" she says, extending a hand. "So nice to finally meet you. I'm Rebecca Maxwell, but you can just call me Rebecca, since you're practically an adult already and there's no need to stand on formality or anything like that." 

"Hi!" She shakes Rebecca's hand. "It's lovely to meet you, Rebecca."

"Lovely to meet you too, lovely to meet you too." Her grip is firm, and she shakes up and down vigorously. "John has told us so little about you, you know. I only knew you exist because Brian told me you came to visit about a week ago, he wouldn't tell me anything. He's always like that, you know, won't tell me a thing about school. His father always says we should give him his space, but I feel like a new girlfriend would be something to talk about!"

"I told you, I'd just met her, Mom," John says, with a long suffering sigh. "We've got homework to do, and you're cooking, what," he sniffs the air. "Tomato sauce, I think? Meatballs?" It does smell good. "You can talk to Rosy more over dinner, okay?" With dad there to help deflect. 

"Yup! Should be tasty! You like meatballs, right Rosy? John hasn't said anything about what you like, but everyone loves meatballs and spaghetti, so I played it safe." 

"I told you she'd eat whatever, Mom," John says, sighing. 

"I like adventure! But spaghetti and meatballs is good too."

"Well, maybe I'll make you something more adventurous next time! But for tonight, spaghetti and meatballs."

"Mom, we really should get our homework done," John says, cutting her off before she can start to ask questions. "We'll be in the dining room, okay?"

"You should do your homework, John. Even if you have already been accepted into such a good school -- he got into Carnegie Mellon, did you know? Very impressive, he's going places, even if I have no idea what places those are half the time -- you need to keep your grades and study habits up, so you can keep being so good at everything!" 

"I know, Mom," he says. "So, shall we?"

"Don't forget a hug for your mother first," she says, holding out her arms. "Just because you have your girlfriend over doesn't mean you get to stop showing your mother how much you care!" John sighs, and hugs her back. Despite... everything (she's being so much right now) it feels good to be loved by his mom. 

"Okay. Can we please do homework now?" he says, when his mother finally lets him go.

"Of course, of course! I'll just be cooking in the kitchen, but don't mind me at all, I'll leave you both to concentrate on your homework. Unless you'd like water? Or a snack? Be a good host, John, and ask your girlfriend if she wants water or a snack."

John rolls his eyes. "Rosy, do you want water? Or a snack?" He probably should have asked about the water, actually. He was just distracted. 

"I'm good on the snack front but I wouldn't mind a glass of water. Thanks!"

"I'll get it for you," John says. And one for himself. "Rosy, the dining room is over there" in case she doesn't remember from last time "I'll meet you there in a moment." And he heads off to the kitchen (with his mother) to get a glass of water for the both of them. 

"She's cute," his mom says, once the both of them were ostensibly out of earshot. "And very polite! Still would like to know who she is and what she plans to do with herself, but very pretty." 

John sighs. While true, she is very cute and pretty, he's not supposed to like a girl for her looks. "You can ask her all your questions in a few hours, Mom," he says. "She's going to be a lot better at answering them than I am." 

"Alright, alright. Go back and do homework with your girlfriend and leave your poor uninformed mother to slave away in the kitchen, after only getting a few hours sleep this afternoon after a long late night shift. Oh woe is me! My son doesn't care about me anymore!" She lifts the wooden spoon to her brow in a gesture of mock woe. 

"You're fine, Mom," he says, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before picking up the water glasses. "Thanks for making dinner for us. We'll all talk tonight, promise." And he heads off to the dining room and waiting Rosy. 

Rosy is sitting very cheerfully at the table to wait for him! She took the same chair that she was using last time they did this.

She's very cute! And so much easier to deal with than his mother. "So, that's my mom," he says, putting a glass down in front of Rosy before going to sit next to her in the same chair he used last time. "She's very excited to see you, and also I'm sorry about her."

"I don't think you need to be sorry about her at all! She seems fine. Perhaps a bit overbearing."

"She's going to ask you a lot of questions at dinner. Dad will be there, so that should help, but be prepared to answer questions about your hobbies and interests and entire life plan." He pulls out his book bag. Time for more history homework! His favorite. (It's not his favorite.) 

"I will endeavour to give reasonable-sounding answers." She picks up her book.

"I appreciate that! I would like my mother to find you to be a reasonable girl." He opens his textbook and pulls out his worksheet. "I have just this and some math," he says, "so hopefully we'll be able to get to fun math tonight? What about you?"