"Y/N, help me cut the vegetables!" your mom called from downstairs, interrupting your call with your BFF, Irene. 

"Coming!" you called back. You turned back to the phone. "Sorry, I have to go. Mom invited someone to dinner and she needs help." 

"Okay, bye," Irene said cheerily. "I'll see you. Bye."

You smiled at her understanding. "Bye." As you hung up, you thought about how lucky you are to have a friend like Irene. She was always so kind and supporting and most of all, understanding. She listened whenever you had a bad day and always gave you advice. You were extremely lucky. 

You go downstairs and were surprised at the mounds of food getting prepared by your parents. "Whoa, how many people are coming?" you asked. 

Your mom barely looked at you (so occupied in making dumplings) as she replied, "Just four. But they have two sons, and they're fourteen and twenty-one. You know how much kids--especially boys--eat these days," she clucks. 

Fourteen and twenty-one? You were 14, too and who knows? You might make a new friend. "So you're just inviting a friend?" you asked, starting to chop the carrots. 

"Yes!" your mom cried and yelped when the doorbell rings. "Y/N, get that for me, okay?" You nodded before rushing towards the door, anxious to see what they were like. You liked people coming over as it was a great opportunity to make new friends but you were also nervous. Last time a demonic 9-year-old created a giant mess of your room and you spent two hours reorganizing everything. 

You opened the door and a woman around your height beamed. "Oh! You must be Y/N!" You smiled and gave a little bow before examining the others. A tall male, presumably the father, nodded at you respectfully. A young man dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans waved while the youngest boy, the 14-year-old, just looked a