Stepping out of the taxi, I look up at the mini mansion in disgust. Who knew they even made houses this nice in Ohio? My mother really got her big fancy house with the perfect family she always wanted.

"Ready?" Joe asks, slamming the trunk closed and coming to stand next to me on the sidewalk with our bags.

"Ready as I'll ever be." I sigh, grabbing my duffel bag from him and slinging it over my shoulder.

He gives me a knowing look, his long dark curls flopping around in the cold November wind. "Let's get this over with."

It's Thanksgiving and it's the only holiday we spend with my mother because Robert, her new husband, insists. Probably because it's one of the few holidays you don't have to give out gifts. Also, his family never comes in for Thanksgiving, opting to travel here for Christmas instead.

Walking up the front steps, Joe is brave enough to knock on the big solid oak door first. Moments later, my mother answers the door in her pristine knee length navy blue A-line dress and matching heels. She gives a half smile, ushering us inside.

"I'll take your coats," she says and I shrug off my pea coat, handing it to her.

"Joseph," she scolds, taking in Joe's appearance. He's only wearing a sweater, some ripped jeans, sneakers, and a beanie. "You're going to get sick." She huffs in disapproval.

"I'm fine," Joe mumbles with a slight eye roll.

She only purses her lips and shakes her head. "Come on, I'll show you to the guest bedrooms," she announces, heels clicking on the shiny, expensive marble floor as she walks to the grand staircase.

Walking upstairs, she shows us to our respective rooms before going downstairs to the lavish living room. Robert and the kids are sitting on the large sectional watching the sixty-five inch TV mounted to the wall.

"Joseph, Joslyn, glad you two could make it," Robert announces, standing from the couch to greet us. He has the fakest smile on his face and I know he wishes otherwise.

"You can just call me Joe, Rob," Joe says for the hundredth time since we've met the man, throwing in a little jab.

Robert frowns. "Just call me Robert, Joe."

An uncomfortable tension hangs in the air until a petite woman walks in the room, running her hands over her apron. "Everything is ready," she announces.

"Alright, Nora, we'll be right there," my mother says, eager to scurry off to the dining room.

"Nora?" I can't help but wonder out loud.

"Yes, our chef," Robert says. Of course rich Mr. Big Shot Surgeon would have a chef.

We all go to the dining room and take a seat at the long table covered in enough food to feed a small army. Not a word is spoken as we all make our plates, only the sounds of silverware clanking together.

Before shoveling a plate full of food in his mouth, Joe pulls his long hair back into a small ponytail.

"Don't you think it's time for a haircut?" Robert laughs, thinking he made a clever, humorous joke. In reality, we all know he's not joking.

"Nope," Joe says casually before shoveling a spoonful of stuffing into his mouth.

Robert frowns, probably unhappy at Joe's monotone response and my mother looks like she's about to combust.

"So, Joseph, how's that little band of yours going?" Robert asks, no doubt trying to get under Joe's skin.

"Good, Rob."

Robert purses his lips, knowing he's not going to get anywhere with Joe, so he moves to me instead. "So, Joslyn, I hear you're working for some big pop star now. I guess that's a bit of an upgrade? Enough to start paying bills?" Robert chuckles, thinking he pulled another great joke.

I grip the expensive silverware tighter, gritting my teeth. "I always could pay my bills."

Robert nods. "Now, peak my interest here, how much do you get paid for being his assistant?"

I nearly choke on my water, almost not believing he has the nerve to ask that question. "Enough."

"Joslyn," my mother pipes in. "Why don't you let me enroll you into some college courses somewhere? You seriously can't keep this up forever."

"No, thank you," I say, straining to keep my cool. This is how every Thanksgiving goes. Her judging and pressuring me and Joe.

"If you keep being stubborn, Katrina and Robert Jr. are going to graduate college before you do." Robert laughs again. "Katrina is planning on becoming a surgeon like her old man, and Robert is planning on becoming a lawyer." Robert proudly beams at his two younger children.

"I guess they will," I say through gritted teeth, trying my best to bite my tongue.

My mother huffs, rolling her eyes. "When will you two grow up and start realizing what's best for you?"

"What's best for us?" I parrot, blood boiling. "How exactly do you know what's best for us? What makes us happy? Not everything is about money. These mashed potatoes taste the same on a plastic fork," I say, dropping the expensive fork on top of the China plate with a loud clank.

"Joslyn!" my mother scolds. "You're never going to make a living going on like this!"

"I'm doing just fine! Both Joe and I are successful in what we do and we're happy! Sure we may not make a surgeons salary, but at least we can whole heartedly say we love our jobs. You would know that if you actually listened to us."

"Happy doesn't pay the bills," my mother grumbles.

"You are unbelievable." I huff out a laugh, standing up from my chair. "My dream isn't to end up in a mansion living a miserable life, it's yours!" I say, pointing my finger at her. "And if I end up poor, then so be it! At least I can say I lived my life and had one hell of a time doing it!"

I storm out of the dining room, slightly pleased with everyone's stunned faces, and go outside to sit on the porch. I take a seat on the steps and take a deep breath. I'm stunned, but happy that I actually stood up for myself.

I hear the front door open and Joe comes out to sit next to me, despite the cold temperature. He has his plate in his hands, still shoving food in his mouth.

"Really, Joe?"

"What?" he says with his mouth full, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm not going to pass up a free meal, and it's not like they're going to eat all of that food anyway."

"You're unbelievable." I can't help but laugh.

He smiles, pleased with himself. "I'm proud of you for sticking up for us back there. I know that was hard for you," he says with a small smile. He knows how much my mother and Robert's opinions get to me and how much I want to impress them.

"Thanks." I give him a half smile. "It just makes me so angry that she thinks we're failures when clearly we're not."

"She's just jealous she doesn't have the guts to go out there and take risks to do something she loves. And Roberts just jealous of my luscious hair because he's balding," he says with a smirk.

"Oh my God, Joe." I laugh. "You're ridiculous."

"I'll show you ridiculous." He smiles, picking up his spoon full of corn and flinging it at me so it hits me in the face and gets all over my shirt.

"Joseph!" I squeal, reaching for his plate and picking up a handful of mashed potatoes, smashing them on top of his beanie.

We start an all-out food fight, running around the front yard like idiots. If my mother saw us, there's no doubt she'd be fuming, but I could care less right now.

When there's no more food left to throw, we stand in the yard laughing our asses off.

"Hey, Joss, can we go home now?"

"Yeah, let's go home."

We're able to catch a flight and make it back home right before dark. Walking into the apartment, we're greeted by a chorus of male voices.

"Hey, guys," I smile, shrugging off my duffel bag at the door. I look to the living room to spot not four, but five guys sitting on the couches, drinking beer and watching a football game. "What are you doing here?" I can't help the smile on my face.

Alex beams at me, setting his beer down on the coffee table and standing to walk over to me. "You're not the only one with parent problems." He chuckles. "Hey, man," he greets Joe, the both of them clapping hands and hugging. "I hope its ok I stopped by. I called Zack first to surprise you." He turns to me, nervously biting at the corner of his lip.

"More than ok." I smile, pulling him in for a hug and nuzzling my face into his soft, knitted sweater that smells of his cologne. "I'm sorry your Thanksgiving sucked too," I mumble into his chest.

"It's ok, it's starting to turn around."

"Alright, kids," my dad says, pulling a turkey out of the oven. "Let's feast!"

The guys all cheer, running over to the kitchen full of food that doesn't even look slightly burnt.

"You helped them cook, didn't you?" I ask, looking up at Alex.

"Maybe a little bit." He chuckles, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the kitchen.

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