“Ryan?” a voice called. It woke Micah up. “Ryan is that you?”
Someone was coming up the stairs. A deep voice. It made Micah tense up, but it was younger. Not his father then. And it sounded nervous right now.
“Ryan, if that’s you, answer me.”
David. David was calling. Micah shot up as the man came through the door with an axe and he scrambled to the far corner of the bed, saying, “It’s me! It’s me!”
“Micah.”
He breathed out in relief and rested the— Oh, it was just a baseball bat. Micah suddenly felt stupid. He hadn’t even known David played. He rested it on the floor.
“You scared us half to death, kid. You didn’t answer and we heard noises, so we thought someone had broken in.”
“I fell asleep,” Micah apologized. “Is that a baseball bat?”
“Huh?” David glanced at it and quickly hid behind himself. “Uh, no. Not at all. Did you—”
“David?” Noelle called up.
He turned back. “It’s just Micah!”
“Oh. Tell him to warn us next time they have a … What, are they having a sleepover?”
David turned to him. “Are you? Hey, where’s Ryan?”
He looked around the room as if he should have been able to find his son hiding somewhere, and glanced at the bed, the closet, and the windows as if those were the three most likely hiding places, but made no move to check on them.
Suddenly, Micah had the nonsensical image of David and Ryan playing hide and seek in this room. It hurt. He had never played hide and seek with his parents. Or his eldest siblings for that matter. Only Prisha.
Maybe he should have gone to her after all. He shouldn't be here, imposing, scaring David and Noelle so much they got out the baseball bat.
“Ryan said I could stay here tonight,” Micah mumbled. As he crawled down from the bed, he avoided looking at the man. “I mean, we forgot to ask you, but, uhm, he isn’t here right now?”
David had a frown in his voice. “Where is he then?”
“He sort of went to see my sister?” Micah said. “At the bathhouse.”
David gave Micah a look. A look like he was actually being seen for once. He noticed the bloody sleeve he was trying to hide in his fist and glanced at his bag propped up against the wall next to the bed. Micah was painfully aware that it was stuffed to the brim with half of his worldly possessions. The other half was in the treasure chest next to it.
David took a step in and asked, “Is everything alright?”
Micah took a step back. If he grabbed his bag and opened the windows quick enough—
“Everything’s fine,” he lied.
David stared at him for a long moment before he slowly said, “Because if it isn’t, you can tell me. You know that, right?”
“I know that sir,” Micah said, wringing his other hand behind his leg. The wound still felt tight, like the skin was crawling. He hoped the man would just leave, but he didn’t. He seemed like he was considering what to say, but there was nothing he could say. Micah— Micah just wanted him to leave.
Finally, David asked, “Where will you stay tomorrow?”
“At home,” Micah immediately lied. If David thought they were having a sleepover, Micah saw no reason to let him think otherwise. But there was also the fact that he just didn’t know the answer. Where would he stay tomorrow? With his sister?
Maybe he really should find an inn or camp out in the Tower. Because he wasn’t going back. There was no way he was going back.
David crossed his arms and asked, “Really?” The baseball bat fell down behind him and he winced a little but didn’t move to pick it up. Instead, he kept on staring at him.
Micah faltered. The [Guard] had seen through him immediately. And anyway, he didn’t really want to lie to Ryan’s dad.
“At my sister’s?” he tried, his voice breaking a little.
Mr. Payne sighed and said, “You’re welcome to stay here, you know?”
Micah didn’t. He hadn’t.
“I— What? No.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” he just asked.
“I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble. What if my parents showed up?”
“You’re fourteen, right?” he asked.
Micah nodded.
“Then even if they showed up with the authorities, all you would have to say is that you want to stay here and then you could. Stay here, I mean. And they couldn’t do a thing. If you wanted to. Do you?”
Micah nodded more vigorously. Yes. Yes, he did. But he couldn’t, so he ended up shaking his head instead. “No.”
“Why not?” he asked again.
“I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”
Mr. Payne sighed and went over to sit down on Ryan’s bed. Micah backed up a few steps, but the man just patted the thin blanket to his side.
Micah hesitantly sat down and looked at his hands.
David looked at the wall.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked.
“Uhm, yes?”
“I ran away from home, too, when I was just a little older than Ryan is now.”
Micah’s head snapped up. “You did?”
David nodded. “For … different reasons, of course. I did not want to become a climber like you do. But I did end up becoming one. A climber. Most people in the city have been, not that you would know that in Westhill. I did it for about a year.” He didn’t say it with pride or derision. He was simply stating a fact.
“...How?” Micah asked after a moment. It wasn’t the best question, but it seemed to get his curiosity across because David told him the story.
“I wasn’t on my own, of course. I was part of a group. There were six of us. And for the longest time, we all shared a single room with three bunk-beds at a crappy inn north of the Tower. We weren’t very good, but we kept at it until we could afford better. I mean, I know that safety and daily grinds are the norms nowadays, and the age of adventurers had been over for decades, even then. But back then, these week-long expeditions were all the rage. You found all sorts of neat trinkets deep in the Fields or third floors that sold well at auctions. Curiosities, they called them. They made our living.”
Micah felt himself breathe in wonder. No wonder why this man was so accepting of climbing.
“Why did you stop?”
The man’s expression shifted to a wistful smile.
“I met Noelle,” he said. “And Ryan came along. You should have seen the look my face when she told me she was pregnant. Or even her face, really. She had her hands on her hips and hit me over the head with it at, uh, the place where we first met. I think I almost fell out of my chair.”
He chuckled a little and Micah thought of Ryan’s bad mood last week for some reason. He thought he realized … something then, but it was so hard to think right now. He wasn’t sure what it was.
David smiled when he went on, looking a little starry-eyed, “And I wanted to be the best dad I could be. I couldn’t go on week-long expeditions while my … my wife labored under the pregnancy. And Noelle was worried about me, too, you know? People do die in the Tower, Micah. So I found a job elsewhere and took responsibility. I had to be there for her. And for Ryan. I’m not so sure how well I did, though …”
“Ryan’s awesome,” Micah immediately said.
David smiled at him. “I’m glad you think so. So we moved to Westgate into our very own apartment. And we got married. We both found jobs there, but a few years later, we moved here after I got a better offer. I had just the right Skills they were looking for, since … Well, I grew up a [Fighter], but I never really wanted to be in a fight, you know? I have a lot of Skills that help break up fights instead or help get out of them. And it was just the right time. We really needed the space. Ryan was rowdy and Westhill is peaceful. It seemed like the perfect place to raise a kid.”
“And the others?” Micah asked. “What about your teammates? Did you keep in touch?”
“For the first few years, yeah. Of course,” he said. “But then time moves on and you stop seeing each other so often, and then …” He shook his head. “But listen to me ramble, what was I trying to say again?”
“... something about running away?” Micah asked. He wanted to hear more about his friends, though. Where were they now?
“Right." David nodded. "You see, for the first few weeks after I left home, I stayed at a friend’s place, an old classmate of mine. He was nice about it, but his parents didn’t like me. I could tell, they wanted me out. So I left as soon as I could. That was when I found the group request in the Climber’s Guild and joined up. It was just supposed to be a temporary thing, to keep me on my feet. But then I stayed, and then we went on expeditions, and when we were successful, we’d drink till morning, and that’s how I met Noelle, and— Well, the rest is history.”
He breathed out with a smile and pushed himself up off the bed, turning to face Micah. “So, I guess what I’m saying is: I love you, kid, because I know you’re Ryan’s best friend and you two look out for each other. But as the parent of the friend you’re staying at, I hate you and want you out of here as soon as possible.”
He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.
Micah panicked. “I’m so sorry. I’ll be out of your feet tomorrow morning, sir. I promise—”
“What? No, no, no! What’s wrong? I told you, you can stay as long as you like.”
Now Micah didn’t know how to react. “But … you just said that you hate me and, uhm…?”
“Yeah, because—” David groaned and rubbed his eyebrows. “I was trying to be a wise old man, ya idjit. A, what do you call them? Parable, you know?” Micah started without understanding and he just shook his head. “I guess I should take it as a compliment that I’m not old enough for that yet …”
“I’m sorry, sir, uh, David,” Micah tried. “I’m just— I’m having a really hard time thinking right now.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get that. I should have been clearer.” He smiled again, more softly this time, and told him, “Just—follow your dreams, kid.”
For the first time that evening, Micah felt a little bit of hope and even wanted to smile. He didn’t, of course, but he did say, “Thank you.”
Ryan’s father gave him a comforting look and headed out. He stopped in the door, though, and put a hand on its frame, tapping it with his knuckles. There was a tension in his shoulders.
He gripped the frame when he spoke spoke, “That being said. I know Ryan wants to go to that school with you, Micah. And he, uh, told us about your fight way back when … why you even fought.”
Oh.
“If you guys both make it in, just … stay safe. Keep him safe. Don’t do anything reckless, because we both know Ryan will be the one caught in the crossfire. And if something happened to him— Well, at the very least, Westhill would get another voice of support … at the very least.”
Micah no longer felt like smiling. At that moment, he would have crawled back to his parents to prevent David’s fear of ever coming true. He didn’t, though. He was too selfish for that. But not selfish enough to simply get his act together. Just like Ryan, the least Micah could do was stay with him to keep him safe.
There was no way he was failing that test on Saturday. If he was allowed to take it.
“Of course,” he said.
David nodded and headed down the stairs, saying, “I’ll get you some cocoa. No objections.”
Micah frowned at that and stared at his hands on his lap, thinking.
When the man came back up with a mug, he thought he caught a glimpse of Noelle peering up at him from on the stairs. She was gone just as quickly, though. Micah was glad for the space.
“David,” he mumbled. “Did you not want to have Ryan?”
He paused in where he placing the cup on the nightstand and looked at him in surprise, and a little anger. “Of course I wanted to have Ryan. He’s the best thing that’s happened to me.”
Micah wanted to apologize, but what came out was, “I mean from the start. Was Ryan a … a surprise?”
David deflated a little and said, “Oh. Always with the direct questions, huh? But I guess I was too obvious. Yeah, he was a surprise. A good one, though.”
Micah nodded in agreement. “Have you told him? About any of this?”
David shook his head. “No. We love him. What does it matter if he was planned or not?”
“Because … I think he knows.”
David frowned at him. “Why? Did he say something?”
“During the summer festival. He told me— He just seemed a little lost. Actually, he seemed a lot lost. I think … I think you should maybe tell him that story as well.”
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“Oh.” David looked a little lost himself then. Like father like son. “Yeah, I’ll, uh, take it under advisement, bud. Thanks for me telling me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Well, then, good night.”
“Good night. And thank you, sir.”
David didn’t close the door when he left.
After a few minutes, Micah took a single sip of cocoa—out of politeness, mostly—put it back, and then let himself fall back on Ryan’s bed. He didn’t even notice when he fell asleep.
He dreamt of fiery tunnels and mist-covered forests. And fighting. Fighting for something he’d lost.
----------------------------------------
“Sit down, Prisha,” Mrs. Stranya spoke. “You, too, dear.”
“You went into the Tower?” Prisha asked. “How? Micah told me you can only get in if you have a combat Class—”
“As if they could have kept us out,” Micah’s father grumbled. “But your mother had a few levels in [Hunter] back then. It quickly became [Ranger]. And I got the [Warrior] Class the first night I slept in the Tower. We were hell-bent on getting our children back.”
A pause.
“So … Maya was a climber?” Prisha eventually asked.
There was another pause as they spoke without words, but all Ryan could do was wait and listen. He wasn’t welcome here.
“Fine,” Mr. Stranya grumbled.
“Not just Maya, Prisha,” Micah’s mother spoke. “Aaron, too. Not at first. And then only at first, but … they were both climbers for a while.”
“It started out as just a simple weekend hobby,” her father commented, “before it all went wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
Mrs. Stranya sighed deeply before she spoke, “Maya did it first, with her friends from school. And when Aaron started attending himself, she invited him along. You should have seen how proud your brother was when he got the [Fighter] Class. He had always had troubles with … other kids from school. Because of how much he excelled? Not that he couldn’t have stood up for himself if he wanted to. Your father even encouraged him to do it, but … Aaron didn’t want to. So we were glad when he leveled up so quickly. He had the temperament for it. In a few months, none of the other boys bothered him anymore because of the Skills he got.”
“But they kept on going,” Mr. Stranya said. “I hated the Tower even then. It’s a cursed thing. But your mother—”
“Don’t put this one me,” she snapped.
“Fine. We were both convinced it was good for them. They earned some extra pocket money and it kept them healthy. And they always assured us they would stay safe, on the first few floors and only the outer edges. Ha! As if that’s safe. We all know how it turned out for your little brother.”
“But they looked healthier,” Mrs. Stranya said, sounding almost hopeful, though this was in the distant past. “They both put on some muscle, and they were doing so well in class, so we let them do it.”
“And the more of those monsters they killed, the better, we thought, right? Right?” Micah's father paused. “We were wrong. Maya quit school after two years to sign up with the guild. We weren’t happy. Of course, not. And it’s not like we wanted her to complete the full five years, but at least three would have been nice. But … she made a living for herself. And she was good, or so we were told. So we supported her. We accepted it. She invited us to so many dinners, where people wanted to meet us. Officials. Nobles. I think she was some sort of prodigy. And her brother was always there by her side when he could be. And then … then she went missing."
Prisha didn't say anything and the man just spoke on.
"For six whole months inside that place. And your brother went looking for her every day. He skipped school so often, we had to talk to him. We hired people ourselves, professionals who knew what they were doing. But he wouldn’t listen. And after three weeks, he joined her in her absence. Your mother and I, and even your Grandmother, we thought we had lost both our firstborn to that place. For six long months, we worried. You were so young at the time, but we had such a hard time hiding it from you … But after the first few days of your brother’s absence, we couldn’t wait any longer. We went by ourselves. We went packed for an expedition, though we had no combat Classes to speak. And we searched and searched, each floor, for weeks on end. Just to find either of them. Over and over again. We even joined an expedition into the Gardens. But then—” He broke off and breathed.
“What?” Prisha demanded. “What happened?”
Ryan demanded the same thing in his mind. He heard … sobbing?
“They came back,” Mrs Stranya said. “Both of them. Together.”
Ryan frowned. Why was she crying? Shouldn’t that have been cause for celebration? By the sound of it, her husband was comforting her.
“They were so proud of themselves when they came back,” Mrs. Stranya spoke on, but by the sound of it, she was clearly forcing herself to. She spoke like she wanted to get it off her chest even though it hurt. “And we understood. Of course, you would be proud of surviving that place. But … they acted like nothing had happened! They didn’t tell where they were or even apologize. Six months, they put us through hell. The Guild pronounced both of them as missing in action. That’s their way of saying someone is dead. And we thought they were dead, and … and … they might as well have been.”
“How could you say something like that?!” Prisha demanded.
“They came back different!” her mother shouted.
“Mom!”
“Your brother Aaron was always so proud,” Mr. Stranya spoke, “so confident and outgoing. Even if he wouldn’t join a fight for himself, he would stand up for others. But he came back broken, meek, paranoid. He always thought something would attack him in his sleep. He sat in the corner at night, clutching a wicked knife he had found. He jumped through his window one time. When we asked him why, he said he thought he had seen something in its glass. In the glass, Prisha. Do you remember the way he fidgeted, Elissa? Always fidgeting, always glancing in the corners for monsters there, no matter how much we tried to reassure him. It was worse when the sun began to set.”
“And Maya, she … she became a …”
“She came back fat,” Mr. Stranya said for her. “She was always such a beautiful young woman. She had so many suitors. But when we saw her— On the day after she came back, we found her sitting at the breakfast table eating a massive ant. Not a Honey Ant, the yellow sweet ones. A regular Giant Ant from the Gardens. If you had seen her eyes, Prisha. If you had heard the way that ant crunched.”
“We were told she became a [Gourmet],” Mrs. Stranya said full of disgust.
"A [Gourmet]?"
“She ate those monsters to level," Mr. Stranya spoke. The words were just pouring out now. "Instead of normal food. She had a whole bag full of them on her person. Always. Wherever she went she would carry it with her and eat, but never enjoyed anything your mother cooked anymore. Not that she would say anything. She was still polite. But—”
“I could see it in her eyes,” Mrs. Stranya said. “At my cooking. The cooking she grew up with. Disgust.”
They both breathed then, out of words. Lost.
“That’s it?” Prisha asked. She sounded a little shaken herself, but she spoke out against them despite that. “Of course they’re going to be changed! Six months in the Tower. Micah was just in there a— a week. Not even. And look at how much he’s changed over the summer. How hard he studies ... Every day he studies. Shouldn’t you have been glad your children were safe, and home with you?”
“We were, but they left!”
“After two weeks,” Mr. Stranya said. “They barely spoke to us. They were always gone. We never connected. Never talked. They both joined a caravan. Your brother permanently and Maya only so she could travel North. They didn’t even bother to say goodbye. They just left one morning without a word of warning, leaving behind a short note.”
His voice became more and more distant as he spoke, and Ryan realized he must have been going somewhere. Then it was back in the room and said, “There.”
“Off to explore,” Prisha said slowly. Ryan caught on. She was reading the note. “All sorts of monsters exist in this world, all sorts of flavors. Going to fight them … and eat them. Family above all else. Love, Maya … and Aaron.”
“We have seen Maya once, since,” Mrs. Stranya said. “Once in eight years. Aaron stops by every year or two, but even though he’s gotten better, he won’t speak to us. He won’t let us read Maya’s letters to him. All we know is that she joined one of those expeditions, to look for that sixth Tower in some forest.”
“You mean like in the children’s stories?” Prisha asked.
“The Tower took them from us,” Mr. Stranya said. He didn’t sound angry anymore, just tired and cold. He said it like it was an indisputable truth. “Those two people who came out weren’t our children anymore. And neither is Micah. Not unless we can save him.”
I have no sons, Ryan remembered him say. His heart ached. Six months their children had been gone. How would he feel if, for six months, he’d thought two people he loved were dead?
Ryan hated the man, he truly did, and he was afraid of him, but at the same time, he felt sorry for him. And … he delighted in the pity he felt. It suited him right to suffer. And Ryan was ashamed of that delight. And he hated himself. And Ryan— he just didn’t know how to feel.
How was he going to explain this to Micah?
“So tell us, Prisha. Where is he now? Is he with you? Is he safe? Send him back home to us. We will apologize, even explain, but— He can’t go there anymore. The only thing that Tower does is break.”
Soft footsteps led away from them. When Prisha spoke, it came from the kitchen and was just a mumble at first, but it became more. “It looks like you did enough of that yourselves. That chest, you gave it to Micah for his birthday. For his alchemy. Don’t you remember how happy he was when he opened it? He hugged you, dad. How could you?”
“We’ll buy him another!” Mr. Stranya said.
“It wouldn’t be the same. I—” Prisha said but broke off. Her steps hurried. They came closer.
“Prisha?” Mrs. Stranya asked.
“Thank you for telling me the truth,” Prisha said. “But I have to leave. I just … I just need time to think.”
“Where are you going?”
“To my family!” she called back.
Ryan heard the front door open and her storm out. Her parents called after her, but they made no move to chase after her. Ryan didn’t want to listen to what they did afterward. He snuck away under the windows and jogged up to her side.
“What are we going to tell Micah?”
She didn’t even react to him showing up. She didn’t seem sad to him, just confused.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you … alright?”
She shook her head but said, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She even laughed a little. “My parents are crazy. All experience changes a person, we learned. All experience leads to— They’ve changed. Aaron and Maya are still my siblings, Ryan. And Micah, Micah is still my baby brother. I just wonder how they could say something like that? How could you not love your children, even if they changed? Micah’s eaten monsters before, right? I tried some myself. The honey ant was so sweet ... I don’t want to understand them. I don’t. It’s horrible. They’re horrible.”
She hugged her stomach.
“They’re still your parents,” Ryan said quietly, with a false hope in his heart that one day, their family could be reconciled. Even if Micah’s parents were the worst people he knew.
Ryan just wished things could be different … and he wished he hadn’t fled. He wished he’d punched Mr. Stranya’s teeth in instead. He wished he could punch anyone’s teeth in right now. Mostly his own.
For now, he assured Prisha that Micah was safe, though he didn’t know that, and ran home.
----------------------------------------
When Ryan climbed in through his window that evening, he found Micah sleeping on his bed and silently thanked any being that was listening that he was still there.
He glanced at the untouched mug of cocoa next to him and realized his parents must have been here, too. Ryan didn’t know what to do about that. He would have to talk to them in the morning.
He put Micah’s shoes down next to his pack. Then he made himself comfortable on the floor.
Maybe I really am a dog, he mused ruefully as he lay down on a spare pillow. But he must have been too loud because Micah suddenly spoke, “...Ryan?”
It was just a whisper, half asleep, but Ryan cursed inwardly when he saw Micah pushing himself up a little to see him on the floor. He rubbed his eyes and mumbled, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Ryan whispered. “I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.”
“Why … are you lying on the floor?”
“It’s okay, I got a spare pillow.”
Micah suddenly looked wide awake for a moment. He shook his head, got up, though he wobbled a bit, and said, “No. I’m not making you sleep on the floor.” He pointed. “Sleep in your bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Ryan shook his head. He wasn’t budging on this. “I’m not making you sleep on the floor.”
Micah squinted his eyes—still tired after all—glanced at the bed, and thankfully lay back down. But he scooted over to the far end and looked around, saying, “We can both fit, I think.”
Ryan frowned. “Really. I don’t mind. I can sleep on the—”
“Either we both sleep on the bed or we’re both sleeping on the floor, Ryan. Tomorrow, I’ll get a bedroll. You … you don’t have a bedroll, right? Or a spare mattress?”
Ryan needed a moment to catch up. “A bedroll?”
“It’s fine if it’s a bedroll, right?”
“You’re … staying?”
Micah didn’t answer for a moment. And when he did, it sounded panicked, “Your dad said it was fine. I mean, if you don’t want me to—”
Ryan lay down on the bed.
Micah shut up.
They both stared at the ceiling, though they barely fit on the mattress next to one another. Ryan tried to keep his legs to the side without falling off. Micah seemed to have no such qualms.
“My brother and sister?” he whispered.
“They’re alive.”
He let out a trembling breath Ryan hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding and whispered, “Thank you.” He sounded like he meant, endlessly grateful. But also a little ill, like he had a frog in his throat.
Ryan could see better in the dark. Micah’s eyes had looked fine. Or at least, as fine as they could be. He didn’t look like he had cried. Was he … going to now? Ryan wouldn’t know what to do then.
“I’ll tell you more in the morning,” he quickly said, though he had no idea what he would tell him, and turned away to grab his spare pillow off the floor. He stuffed it under his head. “Get some rest. Everything’s going to be alright.”
“... Alright. Good night.”
“Good night,” Ryan said, though he knew he wouldn’t get any sleep. As far as he could, he tried to stay near the edge of the mattress and kept [Hot Skin] down so he wouldn’t bother Micah.
And he stayed awake. And he listened. For hours, Ryan waited for the sound of tears that never came.
----------------------------------------
When Ryan woke up, he was lying underneath a large blanket that someone had draped over him during the night. The space next to him was empty and he was wide awake. He jumped up with a curse. The window was open. Micah’s bag was still there, but that didn’t have to mean anything. Micah would go into the Tower barehanded if he had to.
He remembered something and searched the floor for his shoes, but they were gone.
He cursed a little louder then.
Ryan squinted when he threw open the window. The sun blinded him, but he looked into the garden anyway, hoping he’d still catch a glimpse of Micah, but the boy must have been long gone. He sprinted downstairs instead, jumping the last third in one stretch, only glancing back into the kitchen to yell a warning to his parents—
Two people stood with their backs to him at the stove.
Ryan’s dad stood next to Micah and pointed, mumbling something he didn’t quite catch. A pan was sizzling. They both wore aprons, though Micah’s was clearly too large as it almost bundled up on the floor.
Ryan saw Micah’s shoes with the rest of his family’s in the hallway then. He caught his breath and wondered if he was still dreaming when he stumbled into the kitchen.
“Oh, hey, roomie,” Micah said when he noticed him. He was wearing oven mitts. Of course, he was.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” David said.
“What?” was all Ryan managed to say.
Someone was humming in the garden—his mother—and the birds twitched on the neighbor’s tree. A soft, summer breeze came in through the back door and brought the scent of flowers and breakfast.
“Your dad is teaching me how to make the perfect breakfast,” Micah told him and proudly bent the frying pan a little his way so Ryan could see.
He smelled something else then and glanced down at the half-burnt plate of toast, sausages, eggs, mushrooms, and beans on the kitchen table. Perfect breakfast? he wondered. It was at the choice of foods rather than the state they were in. Ryan would have chosen something else.
“Uhm, sorry the first batch got a little burnt,” Micah said. “I, uh— Nevermind. But we’re working on the second one already.”
Ryan sat down, picked up a fork, and started eating.
“Hey, you don’t have to eat it!” Micah said.
Ryan smiled at him while he chewed and assured him, “It tastes great.”
Micah squinted at him and whispered, “Liar.”
“Good morning to you, too, Micah,” Ryan said and just put another fork-full in his mouth, chewing and making sounds of content. Sure, it tasted a little burnt, but that didn’t have to mean Ryan had lied. A little crunch never hurt anyone. Plus—
“Someone has to eat it, right?” he asked between bites.
“I would have eaten it,” Micah mumbled, but set his face and turned back to the stove. “You’ll just have to eat two plates then. Cause the next one is going to be great. Probably great enough to get a Class from it.”
“He always eats enough for three anyway,” David told him. “Not sure about the plates, though. Might be a bit crunchy.”
Micah smiled at that, and Ryan didn’t even groan at his dad’s comment. Micah was smiling. And his mom joined them a moment later, brushing through his hair as she walked past, then sat down herself. She gave Ryan a smile and drummed her knife and fork against the table like a child demanding food.
Even if so much had gone wrong yesterday, it was good to know things were still right in the world. Ryan reminded himself, he would simply have to make the most of what he had. This time, at least, his smile wasn’t fake when he thought about that.