“What?” I go rigid. “I didn’t agree to cook.”
“Oh.” Adam snaps his fingers, turning his attention to me. “You should know,” he says, “Roman isn’t eating broccoli or rice or melted cheese anymore. He’ll eat pasta, though.”
“Then he’s going to starve,” I say. “All I know how to cook are chicken breasts and protein shakes. Eggs. Maybe a hamburger.”
“You don’t cook protein shakes,” Winston says.
I nod at him. “Thank you for proving my point.”
“I’ll make him pasta,” Warner offers. “He likes it with red sauce, doesn’t he?”
Adam shakes his head, hefting the backpack over his shoulder.“Not anymore. Only cheese sauce.”
Warner frowns. “I thought he wasn’t eating melted cheese.”
“On bread or vegetables. He’s okay with cheese in pasta,” Adam explains. “But only if it’s white cheese. He won’t touch it if it’s yellow.”
“What is happening to your kids, man?” Kenji says, stunned. “When I was growing up it was a choice between food or no food. And I always chose food.”
“Gigi will eat anything,” he says, shrugging. “Roman gets in his head about it.”
Warner’s frown deepens. “I think I need to have a talk with Roman. But first I need to have a talk with a different child.” To me, he says, “Get up.”
“I’m not a child,” I practically shout.
“You’re right. Most children learn to stand by the age of one. How old are you?”
Reluctantly, I get to my feet. “All right, fine, I’m up.” I hold out my arms. “Where are we going?”
“Jesus, the balls on this kid,” mutters Winston. “I’d have pissed my pants by now.”
Warner holds my eyes a beat longer, exhales audibly, then leaves the room.
Just leaves the room.
“Hey,” I call after him. “Where are we going?”
The door snicks shut.
“You better chase him down,” Kenji says, gathering up his snack wrappers.
“What the hell is going on?” I demand, looking around. “Where is he trying to take me?”
“Somewhere they won’t find the body,” says Winston.
Adam laughs.
“C’mon, how can you think this is funny?”
“I don’t know,” says Adam, glancing at his watch. “I kind of hope he does kick your ass. You have no idea what you put us through these last few days.”
Sighing, I squeeze my eyes shut.
I thought the gentle mocking and constant babying was bad before I left for the Ark. I thought, at minimum, coming home alive would inspire some respect, if not outright admiration for surviving the unsurvivable. Instead, it looks like I’ve made things worse.
They’re never going to let me live this down.
When I finally catch up to Warner in the hall, he doesn’t stop moving. He doesn’t even slow down.
