“Well, you’re a wizard,” I said.“And you’ve got this wand, and you have to use condiments to make your way through each level.Like, you shoot a spray of ketchup as your weapon, and you can use a leaf of lettuce as a bridge or to float down a river.Oh, and you’re trying to stop the bad guy, of course—that’s Count Cheeseburger.”
“A distant relation, no doubt,” Fox said, “of Count Chocula.”
“What is with everyone’s tone today?This game is going to be great.The first two games were awesome.I’m going to crack out onWizard Cheeseburger 3for the whole weekend, keeping myself alive with Funyuns and Mountain Dew, and it’s going to be peak living.”
“This is why I said we should make him play sports,” Fox told Indira.“But you let him try out for that musical instead.”
“Ha ha,” I told them.
“Don’t listen to them, dear,” Indira said as she passed me a cinnamon roll.“Have fun playing your Nintendo.”
Some of my horror must have shown on my face because Foxcackled.It was hard to tell as Indira left, but I thought maybe she was smiling.
I soothed myself with a cinnamon roll.Or seven.
“It’s like feeding time at the zoo,” Fox said as they watched.“Mesmerizing.”
“Gotta gas up.”
“Quite.”Fox cocked their head.“Dash, for the love of God, you have to chew your food or you’re going to choke.”
I was going to reply to that, but that was when Keme sidled into the kitchen.
“Oh no,” I said.“Traitor.You’re dead to me.”
“You said I could play it first,” he said, darting an embarrassed look at Fox.
Fox, though, only said, “I want to try it.What happens if you squirt someone with mayonnaise?”
“Nope,” I said.I finished the last cinnamon roll, drained my coffee, and carried the dishes to the sink.You know you’ve done it right when you’re literally trembling with a sugar-caffeine overload.The cup actually rattled on the saucer.“I’m playing.Me.By myself.Because you are a backstabber.”That was for Keme.And for Fox: “And you said I should play sports.”
“It’s because you’re a, er, healthy young man.”To Keme, they asked in an aside, “Did that sound believable?”
“You—” I pointed to Keme.“—go work on your summer school homework so you can actually pass high school and graduate.I’ll help you write the paper, but you have to finish reading the book first.”
Keme did somethingunspeakablyrude before sulking out of the kitchen.
“You—” I pointed to Fox.“—go work on your project so that I don’t have to wake up at three in the morning to the sound of wailing, only to find you curled up in the fetal position in the hall, moaning about how you had offended God and man because your work did not reach the quality it should have.”
“I stole that from da Vinci,” Fox said smugly.
“I thought you were a werewolf!”
“Well, from a meme about da Vinci.”
“Go!”
Fox sniffed and drifted out of the kitchen.
I got my Funyuns.I loaded up my Mountain Dew.And I was ten steps from the billiard room when I heard the unmistakable noise of video game gunfire.
If Keme thought I was joking about finishing his summer school homework—look,nobodywanted to readThe Great Gatsby—
But it wasn’t Keme.It was Bobby.And he was laughing as Millie gunned him down in Fortnite.
“Did you see me shoot you in the FACE?”
(You get one guess as to who got so excited about the, uh, face shooting.)
