Chapter 2: July 1st, 2022 [Part II]

I come downstairs for a bite to eat before I start getting ready. 

As usual, Tati blasts his favorite iTunes playlist from his Bluetooth speakers. Ricky Martin’s “Cup of Life” plays right now, which complements the silly and competitive nature of Smash Bros. He stands at the kitchen island, slicing Bulgarian salami and kashkavalWikipedia: ‘yellow cheese’ made from cow's milk, sheep's milk or both. until he deposits them onto an embroidered glass plate. Boey and Ezra both lounge on barstools across from him, snacking on lukankaWikipedia: A Bulgarian (sometimes spicy) salami unique to Bulgarian cuisine. Similar to sujuk, but often stronger flavored. Lukanka salami is made of pork, veal, and spices (black pepper, cumin, salt), minced together and stuffed into a length of dried cow's intestine as a casing. and sujukWikipedia: A dry, spicy, and fermented sausage which is consumed in several Balkan, Middle Eastern and Central Asian cuisines. Sujuk mainly consists of ground meat and animal fat usually obtained from beef or lamb, even horse, using cumin, garlic, salt, red pepper spices while immersed in conversation about the new Top Gun movie we watched last night. 

"Hey, Boey, which one's your type?"

"Huh?"

"Kelly McGillis or Jennifer Connelly. Who played Penny better?"

Typical Ezra. He likes to gab about celebrity crushes and Hollywood relationships while Boey struggles to feign interest, staring off into space and nibbling on a half-eaten piece of sujuk in idle boredom. 

"...Which one's which again?"

"Okay. Kelly McGillis. She played Tom Cruise's love interest in the first movie. You know, the blonde. The bombshell. The one with the tomboyish charm.” I chuckle, amused. It’s obvious who Ezra prefers more by his enthusiastic description alone. “And then there’s Jennifer Connelly who played Penny in the new one. She's got, like, this mature, dark beauty to her–"

"Oh, wait. She's the one who played in– what's it called–.” Boey snaps his fingers to the beat of his rising frustration, the words on the tip of his tongue. “She’s in that movie with David Bowie–."

"Into the Labyrinth."

"Right!" He points in triumph.

"Okay, now that you know, which one would you rather smash more?"

"Uh… neither?” He settles back down and munches on a piece of kashkaval like string cheese, bored again. Boey’s the type to focus on the story and characters more, not so much the actors and their personal lives. “I don't care about them either way."

"What? How can you say that–?" Ezra stares in shock, scandalized by his apathy. “That’s like saying you’ve got no appreciation for human art!”

“You mean the human body?”

“Yes!” Ezra gesticulates his frustration and enthusiasm with explosive arms. “The human body is art.”

He shrugs. "So, what? I don't know ‘em. Why should I feel anything about them?"

I'm starting to think Boey's developing a gay harem, because his interest in the female body– both in reality and the realm of fiction– seems non-existent, and yet the physical ease with which he engages my best friends on top of his raunchy sense of humor? Very sus. His feelings for Aya are the only reason I consider him remotely heterosexual. Maybe he’s demisexual? I never know with that guy.

"Gosh, guys! Stop objectifying women!" 

I bust out my best impression of a dude voice while using Caleb as inspiration, skipping over to muss Ezra's stylish mess of chestnut-blonde curls. I dodge his playful swip, delighting in his angry-cute pout. 

"Ay! Careful with the merchandise!" 

He withdraws his hands to comb it back into place, his mock glare crumbling under the force of his cheeky grin.

Ezra Favalora Vázquez. 

My sweet devilish Afro-Latino and fellow child of the summer solstice. Out of all my nerdy best friends from middle school, he wears the flashiest stuff; chain necklaces, sporty tank tops and cargo shorts his go-to outfit in hot weather. Tati complains his taste in fashion grew too girly for a regular guy, but I don't care. I love his nose piercings, beaded bracelets, and studded earrings, and have always envied his inner fashionista. 

And then they segway into a debate about who would win (and look better) in their own picturesque version of a shirtless beach scene, juggling volleyballs and innuendos. Honestly, the gayest conversation between them to ever grace my ears, and they have one nearly everyday.

I catch the other boys in the living room, split between 'break' mode and 'rematch' mode. None of them deigned to greet me upon my arrival. Sunnie and Caleb engross themselves in their 1v1 matches, usually the last two left standing in long hours of gaming. Sunnie loves to play and Caleb loves the competition, yet the former never cares about winning while the latter acts like the biggest sore loser on this side of the planet. I never grow tired of watching Sunnie continuously throttle Caleb's fragile ego.

Hinata Sylvanus Tafoya. 

He likes to go by “Sunnie,” a little self-conscious of his Japanese roots. 

No matter the season or occasion, Sunnie likes sticking to his black aesthetic and Korean-style clothing. That winter child loves his hoodie shirts, skinny jeans, and star-patterned Vans way too much, and don’t even get me started on his love for chains. You’ll always hear him before you see him, ousted by the echo of his twin bracelets and single long chain dangling from his waistband every time he enters the scene. He’s been a dork for as long as I’ve known him, and I blame his obsession with Kingdom Hearts and K-Pop for his edgy tastes. 

And then you got Caleb Miriel Montgomery. 

He’s got the looks and charm of a generic white guy you’d see in every rom-com. I’ve come to witness his ilk across many cringe-worthy chick flicks that Aya has forced me to watch with her. Think Zac Efron in High School Musical or Jonathan Bennet from Mean Girls. I mean, he’s got it all. Talented in sports, beloved by all the ladies, and a friend to all like-minded guys. He hides a sensitive side that lives under constant terror of his divorcé dad and mean iron fist. 

What else can I say about him? He’s an open book. 

Yes, he does have daddy issues, and yes, his grandmother did give him that middle name. No, I don’t have feelings for him– contrary to popular belief among our peers who have known us all our school year lives. End of story. Thank you.

And last, but not least– Jae Dong Seo and Richard Frank McDonald.

“JD” and “Richie.” One biology class in middle school, and they have been joined at the hip ever since. They chill on the other side of the three-seater sofa, each with a Switch in their hands, playing the latest Monster Hunter 4 expansion online. Those two are indistinguishable from their graphic t-shirts and dark jeans, except for JD’s combed and loose hair, which frames his expressionless mug, and Richie’s awkward crop of auburn hair, his baby face full of freckles. 

Before I can call out to them, Tati’s voice reels me in first.

"Sasha." 

The moment we make eye contact, he waves the knife over his shoulder. Oh, he must have stored my plate in the microwave to hide it from flies. 

“Merci mnogoTranslation: “Thank you very much”  for the eggies.”

“No problem, baby.”

I swing around to fetch it before Tati can swerve to grab it, intercepting him in a hug before nuzzling his shoulder with kisses as revenge for earlier. He smells of sweat and sun-dried grass and chubritsaSavory (chubritsa, merudia), one of the most traditional Bulgarian spices. Often used as the base for many of the traditional Bulgarian spice mixes. This Balkan savory has a strong distinct aroma similar to thyme, but much more distinctive; used in the preparation of many favorite dishes such as lentils, green beans, peas, beans, cabbage, potatoes, pizza and others., letting me know he spent his day exercising in the gym-transformed garage, mowing the lawn (I remember the God-awful sound among other unpleasant reminders of the waking, productive world), and cooking for us gluttonous teenagers. In other words, living a gross and healthy life as expected of a househusband.

He flicks my cheeky smile with his salami-slimey fingers, and I spurn him in mock disgust, chomping the lukanka he offers me as repentance. Yum. Boey helps himself to a second portion of shopska salataWikipedia: A cold salad popular throughout Southeastern Europe. Bulgaria's most famous dish and national salad, whose colors recall the Bulgarian flag. Main ingredients: tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, peppers, sirene (feta cheese) (didn’t he just brush his teeth upstairs? I guess he just came home from summer class) while I snatch the steaming hot naan bread that pops out of the toaster, enduring the burn on my fingertips through sheer force of habit.

“Hey, that’s mine.”

“Calm down. I’m putting them on a plate for you. Bitch.” 

Hmph. That's what I get for trying to be nice. I stick my tongue out, sliding into the empty space between them. You know, just because Boey chose to be an asshole, I’m gonna steal a slice anyway. He glares daggers at me while I ignore him, spreading Bulgarian feta cheese and rose hip jam to my heart’s content. Boey does the same, except he prefers the boysenberry jam, and so we take a moment to relish our food in silent communion.

I sprinkle paprika on my eggs and then chubritsa on my pan-toasted sourdough bread, gorging on my poorly dissected eggs and mopping up the mess with my toast as a sponge. The runny yoke bleeds into my tomato juices now; I gotta clean my plate fast before it starts getting gross. Once done, I scrape lyutenitsaWikipedia: A (sometimes spicy) vegetable relish or chutney in Bulgarian, Macedonian and Serbian cuisines. The ingredients include peppers, aubergines, carrots, garlic, vegetable oil, sugar, salt, and tomatoes. It comes in many varieties: smooth; chunky; with chili peppers or eggplant; and hot or mild. on my third slice of bread, the creamy non-spicy kind, and chomp down, moaning in epicurean pleasure. Yep. Ten times better than ketchup. It’s not as tangy or sweet, and it’s got that nice little kick I love.

“Mnogo vkusno.”Translation: “Very tasty”

Boey licks his fingers in agreement. “Mm, super.”

“Want some apples? I’ll cut you some.” Tati offers while washing his hands, grabbing two from the fruit bowl to rinse them along with a washed knife from the drying tray. It takes him less than three minutes to fill an emptied glass plate used for salad with clean slices of honeycrisp, and I grin, scarfing them down faster than I can sing my praises.

“Please~”

“Thanks, Tatko.”Translation: “Father” or “Dad”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re like the gender-bent version of Angelina Jolie DILF edition?” Ezra smirks, wagging his eyebrows.

Boey and I sputter, spitting out iced cranberry juice from our glasses. Bless Tati for looking so confused, unaccustomed to Ezra’s random spurts of unfiltered genius. Therein lies the beauty of English as a secondary language: you are spared the perversity of the modern day world. Before we can recover from that controversial proclamation, Ezra stands up from his barstool, patting his stomach. 

“Hey, Yuri. If you’re done cooking, are you gonna join us for some Mortal Kombat?”

“Nah. Not right now. I’m gonna take a shower and change. We’re heading out to pick up Aya for dinner.”

“I see how it is. I thought we were all your children, but now I know that was a lie.”

“Too bad.” Tati smiles, amused by Ezra’s simpering, and then he rounds the island to touch my shoulder. "I'm going to freshen up. Take your time. We'll leave when you and Boyan are ready."

"Okay. Thank you again for the food, Tati."

"Nyama problem."Translation: “No problem.” He kisses my head in departure, and I smile, glowing.

“I’m gonna chill in my room for a bit. Maybe take a shower, if I feel like it.” Boey swerves in his seat, clambering off with those gangly limbs of his to exit the kitchen, jogging up the stairs before I can wave him off, my mouth too stuffed to voice a proper farewell.

Ezra sidles up to my side, watching me stuff my face. "Hey, so what're the odds of me being adopted in your family?"

"What?" I gulp down my current mouthful of food, throwing him an amused look. "We’re the mafia. Who told you we run a foster care?"

His eyes bug out, incredulous, and then he throws his hand in JD’s direction. "Explain JD, then!"

"He's a freeloader. We don't adopt beggars."

"Okay, then. I'll be a freeloader, too.” Ezra squishes his cheek into his palm, pouting. “My parents are cruel. All they do is yell at me and abuse me with slippers."

"That's because you're a spoiled brat." I pause to crunch into my fourth slice of jam-loaded bread. Too much bread, you say? We Bulgarians breathe bread like the Asians breathe rice. It's in our blood.

"It's not my fault I was born a king!"

"Maybe in your past life. You watch too many damn isekais…"

"Seriously, though. I’m not joking. Adopt me."

"No. I don't want you for a brother. Boey's bad enough. I have to deal with JD, too."

"Aww~." 

“Oh, c’mon! You can’t be serious!” I jump, startled by Caleb’s roar of anger as Sunnie whoops in victory. The former looks about ready to throw down the controller, but somehow he manages to restrain himself last second, choosing to live another day (if he seriously wrecked my Pikachu pro controller, I would’ve murdered him on the spot) while the latter hops off the couch and runs an entire circuit around the couch, rejoicing with his arms raised to the ceiling. 

“Woohoo~! I’m victorious once again~!” 

Once Sunnie catches me in his line of sight, he glides in my direction with his arms spread out wide like a pair of airplane wings, singing my name. “Sasha~.” The air surrounding him sparkles from the force of his open smile and laughter, and I grin, twisting in my seat to welcome his wholehearted embrace.

“Sunnie~ I missed you~.” And then he tackles me, almost knocking me off my seat. Oof.

“I missed you, too!” He squeezes me tight, suffocating me in his arms. I succumb to breathless laughter, squeezing him twice as strong, delighting in his choking sounds and raspy one-liner “Y-You’re killing me…” And then we break apart, giggling even more as he hangs off my shoulder. “Oh, man, those games were pretty fun. Caleb almost had me there for a second.”

“How? How do you always win? I can’t even play with you. I always lose–.” Caleb whines as usual, turning into the biggest baby when he loses at anything. His complaints are like music to my ears– until he won’t shut up, like now, and I want to tear my ears off.

“Sounds like bitch in here.” Ezra grins, laughing at his livid glare.

“Whatever. I’m done with this game.” He flops back in defeat and pulls out his phone, sulking in the wellspring of memes that Tiktok provides. Blessed silence for a fleeting moment until he blasts some annoying-ass video in the background at full volume.

“Son, you do me proud.” I smirk, returning to my food, struggling to keep pace with my full stomach. Oof. I don’t think I can finish this. I asked for too much and I hate eating leftovers, but at least I got Sunnie to pick off my remains. He leans over my shoulder to snatch some of my foodies, annoyed by the disparity of his modest height and my tall bar stool. 

“Dang it...”

“Just ask. I’ll feed you.” I swerve in my seat again so I can face him, plate and salami at the ready.

“Attempt to look cool: foiled.”

I cluck my tongue, shoving food in his mouth so he can shut up. “You’re fine.”

Sunnie bemoans his greatest weakness while enjoying being hand-fed. “I’m too short~.”

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“You’re not short. You’re tall enough. I like that you meet me at eye level. You're perfectly fine just the way you are.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better. I wanna be tall like Shaq. Or that giant from Game of Thrones. That'd be super cool. Seven feet tall. That's the dream...”

“What about you?” Ezra elbows him. It takes me a moment to remember what he's talking about.

“What? What about me?” He speaks through chipmunk-sized cheeks.

“I bet if you ask to be adopted, they’ll take you right in.”

“Nah. Boey scares me, but Yuri scares me even more. He’s the ex-mafia. He could snap at any moment and kill me by accident.”

You know what, I feel the need to defend my father’s reputation as the scary-looking, well-meaning parent. Sure, he’s got a temper, but who doesn’t? When I see Tati raise his voice at something small or insignificant that annoys him, they see a two-hundred-pound muscled Slavic man with arm tattoos unleash a violent slew of curses not meant for mortal ears. I mean, I can see where they're coming from. I remember moments like when Tati broke the TV screen by pitching a slice of banitsaWikipedia: a traditional pastry dish made in Bulgaria, North Macedonia and Southeastern Serbia, prepared by layering a mixture of whisked , natural yogurt and pieces of white brined cheese between  and then baking it in an oven. at it, and all because Maika wouldn’t stop bugging him about something money related (I think he froze one of their joint credit cards). He even smashed a laptop into pieces, because he couldn’t figure out how to sign into an old account of his.

So, yeah. Nothing to be scared about. 

“He’s not some Asian parent. He won’t emasculate you for getting an A-.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Boey and I get Bs all the time and he doesn’t mind.” I shrug. I know it sounds like I’m low-key bragging when I say Boey and I have the chillest Dad in the world, but even he draws a line somewhere. He’s not without his strict moments. I'll never forget that dark time in middle school when Tati whipped Boey’s ass for ditching the afterschool program and he only found out because the school had called him. I think his anger had more to do with the fact Boey lied to him than the actual fact, but we both learned our lesson: Never disappoint our father.

“It’s when we get Cs that he starts getting serious. He’ll sit with us and help with our homework until we’re no longer struggling.”

“See?” Ezra throws his hand out. “I wanna live here!”

"What about me?"

Caleb slides into our conversation like a man trying to enter a girl's DMS, wedging in between Sunnie and I on purpose so he can lounge on the empty stool beside me. While I turn away from him like a cat spurning the affections of Pepé Le Pew, throwing him a withering glare cold enough to restore the climate, Sunnie utters no complaint, moving to join Ezra’s side. I hate how he likes to make himself at home in my house. Um, excuse you? Homeboys only. Before I can snap at him, the warm presence of Sunnie’s body splayed across my lap as he snags more food within arm’s reach of Tati’s appetizer board eases my roiling hostility. Okay, better. 

"I wanna live rich, too, with a sexy mom."

"Ew. No. Definitely not you."

"I understand. I'd be too irresistible if we lived under the same roof."

"You're disgusting." I narrow my eyes. Forbidden or not, I would never want any kind of relationship with this guy. Ever. Not worth the trouble or the drama. "I never knew you'd be into that, you pervert."

"I'm not, but I'm just saying." Caleb rolls his eyes. "You're not fun to joke around with."

That guy always gets snippy when I shoot down his idea of humor. I'm annoyed at how sensitive he can be about the stupidest things. "Except you weren't joking. You'd totally do it if you had the chance."

"With you? Yeah, right. In your dreams. I think you're the one who's the pervert."

"Unlike you, I'll happily admit that I am." I smirk, chomping on lukanka to take a break from the sujuk. The latter can be so painful to chew on repetition, the meat more tough. I prefer the red paprika taste on my salami anyway, despite the moist texture of it.

"Whatever. You're not my type anyway."

"Uh-huh. And who is? Amanda?" I say in a singsong voice. This boy can't keep his dick in one spot for more than a month, and that's me being generous. Last week, he had been chatting up one of the cute girls from the journalism club. They hit it off because of her passion for sports writing and his love for attention, seeking validation in the only thing he’s good at. She stroked his ego waaay too much and I wanted to puke every time I heard them flirt.

"Eh…” He shrugs, reclining on the bar stool with an arm draped over the back rail, swiping through his phone. He tends to retreat into Snapchat or Instagram when the topic ceases to hold his interest. “She's okay. A bit plain. I'm talking to Guadalupe now."

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. And I used to have so much respect for Guadalupe, too. I hope she doesn’t fall for him because of his corny one-liners and agreeable looks.

“I feel bad for Amanda.”

“Why?” Caleb makes a face, annoyed. “You barely know her.”

“So? I don’t have to. It's not easy to be ghosted by a handsome asshole. Now you've gone and confused her poor self-esteem.”

“If you like her so much, why don’t you go out with her? Then you’ll see how boring she is.” 

Well, that didn’t take him long. He unveiled the true reason within five minutes of goading, and as I thought, it belongs in the asshole spectrum of thinking. Caleb harbors such a victim complex, he hates when I call him out on stuff like that. He once confessed I sound like his dad, and I took that as a compliment.

I’ll admit, Amanda’s cute in a girl-next-door kind of way. She doesn’t do anything fancy with her makeup or outfits, which doesn’t matter to me. She’s down to earth and mellow; a bit of a people pleaser. She’s cool to hang out with, but I never know if she’s too nice to ever tell me if I’m bothering her. I place her in the same category as Aya; cute and shy, a solid seven. But if I were to be honest, I find their constant need for praise and assurance a big turn-off. 

Besides, I already have a reason, and nobody needs to know that.

“First of all, not interested. And not because of the reasons you just said. Second of all, I am emotionally unavailable.”

Caleb squints at me in disbelief. “Oh yeah? By who?”

“I don’t need to shack up with someone to be unavailable, dick. I just don’t feel like dating anyone.”

“That’s just another way of saying you can’t get some.”

I roll my eyes. I can’t believe this guy. Why do girls like this horny jerk so much? Do they never see past that stupid face of his? Or does he only amp up his cool side around girls in his radar? My spiteful voice drips with sarcasm. "Wow. You're a real charmer. I bet you get all the ladies falling for you."

Ezra’s smirk had been growing wider and wider the longer we traded blows, outdoing even the diabolical Cheshire Cat himself, until he leaned forward to look past me, interjecting "Hey, Caleb, I bet you can't get Sasha to fall in love with you."

"Bet!"

"Ugh. Gross."

"Wait– aren't you a lesbian?"

"I'm bisexual, you idiot. How else could I date Sunnie?"

“Because he’s the girliest guy I’ve met and you’re butch as fuck. He’s the reason you had a lesbian awakening.” 

Really? I roll my eyes. He’s exaggerating, still traumatized by the loving memory of my fists, and yet I feel bad for Sunnie that Caleb still roasts him to this day. I know I’m the one who broke up with him and everything, but it still pisses me off that he chooses to say nothing in his defense. Just smiles and ducks his head, brushing it off. I scowl, averting my eyes. Does anything bother him?

Now Caleb narrows his eyes at me, skeptical. "But you're a girl who still likes guys, right? Can you really call yourself bisexual then? The way I see it, you're either confused or indecisive."

I glare in absolute disbelief. Are we really having this conversation? He’s serious. He’s actually serious. "I can’t believe I'm actually losing brain cells just listening to you. Stop talking. You’re a disease to society."

"I mean, you either like girls or you like boys. Right?" He slides his elbows on the counter to lean forward, balancing his chin on the palm of his hand so he can speak past me, looking to Ezra for confirmation. Now I’m trapped in this pincer formation of stupidity, and it’s all Ezra’s fault. He just loves to start shit, doesn’t he?

"That's the beauty of it. We bisexuals don’t discriminate. We like them all." 

Okay, never mind. I forgive him. Leave it to my bisexual soulmate to back me up on this one. Although I wonder if maybe he’s mixing bisexuality with pansexuality; that’s the one where you’re attracted to people based on personality regardless of gender.

“Wait, what?” Caleb freezes, staring at Ezra in confusion and growing horror. “Don’t tell me you’re actually…?”

Ezra and I exchange looks, watching him as he starts to piece together the plain truth.  “Uh, yeah? I haven’t been hiding it, bro.”

“Does that mean… you thought about fucking me?” 

Now the poor guy suffers from his paranoid delusions. I watch him, delighted by his visible discomfort as he grimaces from the thought, uttering a noise of shivering disgust while hugging himself. Will this be the breaking point? Will this finally tear an arctic rift between them and ruin their friendship forever? I hope so. I’m tired of seeing this guy at my house.

“I’m flattered you think of me as a sex-crazed animal, but nah. You’re not my type, bro. Get over yourself.”

“I don’t know that! You could be lying to me!”

We exchange looks again, this time grinning like a pair of thieves. 

“You know what, you right.” 

Ezra takes the lead and I follow, hugging shoulders and squishing cheeks to spread our mischievous smiles wider. 

“You never know.”

"...I’m just gonna ignore you said that. Anyway.” 

I watch him attempt to erase that memory from his brain, in which he sputters like Jim Carrey for comedic effect– okay, that’s pretty funny, I couldn’t help but giggle– and then he faces me, staring me down with a serious look of determination. I stare back, weirded out by his intensity. 

“That means you're not 100% immune. Half of you is attracted to me."

At the rate I’m rolling my eyes today, I’ll probably lose them by the end of this week. “Look. I can admit you are attractive, but that doesn't mean I find you attractive. Your personality and lack of intelligence kills the whole package." You know, I should've added "deaf" and "short term memory" to the long list of traits I find insufferable about him, because he only seems to focus on the few words he likes to hear before spinning a whole new yarn out of them.

"Okay. Okay! Yeah, you know what, I'll take that bet. You’re on, Ezra!" He slaps his outstretched hand, sealing the deal. Once those two get themselves hyped on something, there’s no stopping them– until they run out of steam, which is often the case.

“What makes you think I’ll fall in love with you? You seem mighty overconfident.”

“C’mon, admit it. A part of you secretly finds me charming.”

“Dream on, glue sucker.”

His mirth evaporates into flustered silence. Ha, got him! I smirk, smug. Aw. He’s even blushing to the tips of his ears. How adorable. He can’t hide nothing with that pasty white skin of his. Not even his love affair with the beach.

“That was one time, dammit,” he says through clenched teeth.

“Still makes you a glue sucker~.” I sing, giggling, slinking off my seat. 

Sunnie finally relinquishes his weight from my shoulder, uttering a cute noise of indignation when I ruffle his short black hair. The boys are so fussy about their hair. It’s funny. "Anyway, it’s been real, but I'm burning daylight. See y'all bitches later."

"Where you going? You're not gonna play a match with us?"

"Didn’t you hear the man? I have a date with sushi today. You're not invited. Family only." Just to annoy Caleb further, I call out to JD lazily lounging on the couch. He must have completed his half-an-hour long monster hunt in record time, because now I see him tapping his phone screen to the beat of his app game. "Hey, you sure you don't want to join us? It's free food~.”

"Nah, I'm good. Bring me a roll, though."

I roll my eyes. I feel so loved. "Which one? We're going to Shirasoni."

"Kay."

“Hey, I want some sushi, too! Bring me some!” 

“Me, three!”

“Me four.”

“...Five.”

Ezra likes to whine as usual, but it’s hard to resist Sunnie’s puppy eyes when he directs them at me. Caleb casts his vote with his too-cool-to-care attitude when in reality he hates sushi and would only go for the bento box meals. Richie’s the last to raise his hand, eyes still fixated on his Switch. See the shit I have to deal with? Boys who are always hungry and spoiled.

“Okay, guys. Text Tati what you all want and we’ll think about it.”

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