Liam arches a brow. “Can you actually make pancakes?”
"I can make bacon and eggs, that can't be much harder," Felix says with the bravado of a man who once burned cereal.
“Right,” I mutter, yanking a mixing bowl from the cabinet.
Liam pulls his phone from his pocket, scrolling. “Alright. ‘Basic Pancakes.’ Flour, eggs, milk, sugar, baking powder—”
Felix is already hauling bags and cartons onto the counter. One of them is definitely powdered sugar, not flour.
“Not that one,” I say, nudging it aside. “Unless you want dessert soup.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Details.”
Liam keeps reading the recipe, and I crack the first egg into the bowl and immediately have to dig out shell. The second one goes better. The third one somehow ends up half on the counter.
“Wow,” Felix says, deadpan. “Chef’s kiss.”
“Pretty sure ‘fold gently’ doesn’t mean ‘beat the hell out of it,’” Liam comments as I now start whisking the batter.
“You're welcome to take my spot if you think you can do better,” I shoot back. “Let's not overthink this, everything will be fine."
And somehow, twenty minutes later, the place does smell incredible. Although our first attempts at pancakes look like someone scrambled a beige omelet.
“We donotshow her those,” Felix decrees, poking one with a fork. He nibbles the edge. “Although flavor-wise? Not terrible.”
I grab a chunk with my fingers and pop it into my mouth. “If we call them ‘breakfast bites’ she’ll never know.”
“Or we just… eat the evidence,” Liam says, already doing exactly that.
The second batch actually looks like pancakes. More or less round. Mostly golden. Liam starts slicing fruit with the intense focus of a man diffusing a bomb while Felix sizzles bacon and brews coffee, humming off-key. I’m pouring what might be our best batter yet when the thing that’s been chewing at me since last night finally pushes its way out.
“We should play the game.”
Silence.
Felix freezes mid-bacon-flip. Liam’s knife stops against the cutting board.
I keep my eyes on the skillet, flip the pancake anyway. It lands clean. “The winter festival game,” I clarify. “We should play it.”
Felix sets the spatula down slowly. “Silas…”
“I know what I said,” I cut in. “But listen. We’ve been orbiting that date for two years like it owns us. Like if we step on it, we’ll shatter.” I shake my head. “All we’ve done is prove our ex still has power over us.”
Liam leans back against the counter, expression thoughtful. “You think playing it takes that power back.”
“I think hiding from it keeps us stuck,” I say. “We love the game. We’re good at the game. Used to be great even. And Naomi was right, much as I despised her for saying it, Lakeview does need it. We can't be that selfish we'd deny it to them.”
Felix blows out a breath, something loosening in his shoulders. “This is very emotionally mature of you,” he says slowly. “Who are you and what did you do with my grumpy Silas?”
I give him a look. “Do you disagree?”
He shakes his head. "No. Not even a little. We've been half-alive for two years. I miss what we used to be out there together."
“Me too,” Liam says quietly. “And you’re right. We’ve treated that date like it's cursed instead of just… a regular day. It's time to let it be just that.”
Something loosens in my chest. We're really doing this. Moving forward. Finally.
“So we tell her when she wakes up?” Felix asks.
