"There's no set guideline. No schedule," I assure him, hoping that I wasn't making him feel awkward or sticking my nose where it didn't belong. Oliver and I jumped headfirst into everything all at once, and while I don't regret a single second of it, I know that isn't how it works for most people. "Do what feels right when it feels right. That's all that really matters."

After draining my coffee cup, I set it down on the table and burrow a little deeper under the blanket, curling up with Jamie like we're two sleepy puppies. It's easy and comfortable, and I let out a little yawn before resting my cheek against Jamie's head for a moment.

"Oh, right," I say, perking up at the question. Of course Jamie wouldn't know what that was. "It's a process where you go down to City Hall and fill out some paperwork, and then there are some meetings with very boring people where you prove that you're competent enough to live on your own without supervision, even if you're underage."

"It isn't for everyone," I add, because there's nothing wrong with having the support system of the home in place. "I was just so close to eighteen and was so independent anyway. I just really wanted to be on my own. And to be near Oliver, of course, but that wasn't the main reason."