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“I’m here for one of those cinnamon buns,” Darien replied.
Pax rolled his eyes. “No, really.”
“I’m not lying. I could smell them all the way from Angelthene.”
He snorted a laugh. “You’re such a dork.”
They stopped at the counter and perused the menu board above the till. Their selection was solid gold—cinnamon buns and twists, double-chocolate tarts and muffins, chocolate croissants, chocolate donuts. Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate. It was heaven. But it was the cinnamon buns that were calling Darien’s name.
A young woman came to take their orders. Darien placed his, then looked down at his cousin, who gaped up at the board with an open mouth.
“You’re drooling,” Darien said.
Pax closed his mouth.
“What do you want?”
“Same as you, but with extra icing.”
Darien placed the order, asking for extra icing on both.
Five minutes later, they were seated at a table by the door, gorging on the pastries. Darien took his time, letting the cinnamon sugar dissolve on his tongue, the kid doing the same across from him.
When they were finished, Darien stacked the paper plates and plastic forks and slid them to the side of the table.
“So what’s up, dude?” Paxton said with a dimpled grin, folding his string-bean arms on the yellow plastic tablecloth. “What’s hanging? What are you, like thirty now?”
Darien chuckled. “Fuck off. What are you, like five?”
“Twelve, actually.”
“You look five.”
“You look thirty.”
“You’re a dumbass, and you’ve got icing all over your face.”
Paxton grabbed a crumpled napkin and scrubbed it clean.
“I need to see Roman,” Darien said.
He licked the stray crumbs off his lips. “You’re fresh outta luck. I haven’t talked to him all day, and when Roman goes MIA like this, he can be gone for days.”
Fuck. Looked like he’d have to do this on his own, then.
“How’s Travis?” Paxton asked with a mumble, eyes downcast as he picked at a tear in the tablecloth. “He okay?”
“He’s fine. He still sucks at Rushin’ Racers.”
Paxton grinned. “Really?”
“Really.”
The smile vanished, and he returned to picking at the tablecloth, eyes down again.
Darien said, “He also misses his little brother.”
Paxton sighed. “I miss him too. But I’m glad he’s gone.” Finally, he stopped fiddling with the tablecloth and folded his arms on the table. “You’ll tell him I’m not mad? That I understand?”
