“I just”—he squeezes his hand around his fork, gripping tightly enough for me to see the white of his knuckles—“miss him, that’s all. I want to play Minecraft with him.”
“You haven’t played all week,” I remind him, completely nonplussed.
“I want to play withJack.” He widens his eyes at me, his expression adding onduh, idiot. I rub a hand over my face, wondering where the line should be drawn with capitulating and arguing. I settle on bartering.
“If you eat all of that”—a nod toward his plate—“and take a shower right after dinner, I’ll text Jack and ask him if he wants to come over.”
“Deal,” Parker agrees immediately, bending low over his plate and shoveling in a mouthful.
“The broccoli too, and I’ll check the rubbish bin,” I warn him, which earns me an eye roll. He eats it all, though, stuffing everything into his mouth and barely chewing before he swallows.
“Done!” he announces, carrying his plate to the dishwasher. “I’m going to go shower. You’re texting Jack, right?”
I hold up my phone in confirmation. He hovers at the mouth of the hallway, watching suspiciously as I send a quickmessage to Jack. When I look up and meet his eye, he drops his gaze to the floor and hustles down the hallway.
“What the hell is going on with him, Vic?” I ask my sister, who, for once, doesn’t have an answer for me.
Jack texts back in the affirmative, adding a string of smiley-face emojis that have me smiling in return. Okay, so apparently I can invite him over during the week and expect a positive outcome. The water is still running in Parker’s bathroom, so I continue picking at my dinner while heating up what I was going to save as leftovers for Jack.
“Is he coming?” Parker screams from the bedroom, seconds after the water turns off.
“Yeah, he’s on the way. You’ve got time,” I reply, loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough that the rest of the building doesn’t.
The tentative knock at our door comes quicker than I’d been expecting. We don’t live far from campus, but it usually takes him twenty minutes to walk over. It’s barely been ten.
“Hey, Jacko,” I greet him, opening the door. He beams, right hand reaching for me as he steps inside. I mimic the movement, thinking he’s going to hug me, but he pulls back and flushes before I can touch him.
“Oh. What about Parker?” he whispers, theatrically enough that it makes me laugh.
“Come here,” I request, pulling him in.
We’re standing in front of the open door, so I keep it shorter than last time. As we move apart, I drop an impulsive kiss on his cheek, grinning when this appears to put him in jeopardy of spontaneous combustion.
Parker joins us, the angry expression loosening only slightly as he looks at us. I put my hand on Jack’s back, nudging him gently toward the kitchen. He’s probablyalready eaten dinner at the school café, but that also means he likely had rubbish parading as food.
“I’ve got leftovers waiting in the microwave for you,” I tell him.
“Oh, you didn’t have to?—”
“Aren’t we going to play Minecraft?” Parker interrupts, voice still carrying the irritation that’s been simmering there all week. I frown at him.
“Parks, come on, don’t be rude. Let him eat first.”
Jack glances between us, looking slightly awkward. It’s been a little while since he was privy to a parenting moment, as Parker is normally much better behaved when he’s around.
“I’ll eat fast,” Jack tells him, which earns him a half-hearted twitch of a shoulder and a nod.
“What’re you reading, Jacko?” I ask him, sliding his plate over the table. As it always does, book talk perks him up and he launches into a description of his current read.
The air remains thick with tension as he talks, all of it radiating from Parker, slumped in his chair and listening to the conversation with his arms crossed. For someone who wanted Jack to be here so badly, he’s not acting as though he’s particularly pleased about it.
“Are you done?” he asks Jack the moment he puts the last bite into his mouth. Annoyed, I shake my head at him and cut off Jack’s response.
“Hey. If you can’t be polite, then we’re going to get in the car and take him home. Cut the attitude.”
Parker’s lips press into a firm line, and he looks away from me to glare angrily at the wall. I glance at Jack, who looks confused.Me too, mate, I think, standing up and grabbing his empty plate. He follows me to the sink, refilling his water glass silently. Between the moody vibes Parker is projecting,and the anxiety from Jack, discomfort fills the room like a noxious gas.
“All right,” Jack says in a forced cheerful voice. “Ready to play?”
