83. Andrew's House.

Mia.

My heart raced in my chest as I sat at the dinner table, anxiously fidgeting with the napkin in my lap. The weight of my deceit weighed heavily on my conscience, and I couldn't shake the guilt that consumed me. I had lied to my dad, telling him I was going to a friend's house to work on a group project, but instead, I found myself sitting at Andrew's house, sharing a meal with his parents.

When Andrew first invited me, my anxiety soared. I knew his mom had a disapproving attitude towards me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was merely there to be judged and criticized. However, Andrew insisted that his mom was difficult with everyone, and he reassured me that she wouldn't even remember the names of half the students she had punished. I couldn't help but retort that she would likely remember me since Andrew had defended me against her in the past. But Andrew's pouting and guilt-tripping wore me down, and I eventually gave in to his persistence.

Now, sitting at the dinner