McCormick bursts through the swinging doors carrying an industrial-size tray of mac and cheese like he’s delivering treasure to royalty. “Let the healing begin,” he says proudly, slapping it down in the middle of the table.
“Does this have hot dogs in it?” Nash asks suspiciously, still picking leaves out of his hair.
“Just love and cheese,” McCormick says.
“Same thing,” Mandy mutters.
They all descend on the tray like wolves in slow motion. After a few blissful, cheese-filled bites, silence falls. Until Jax breaks it.
“I can’t stop hearing that one kid’s voice,” he says, wide-eyed. “‘Do raccoons have nipples?’ Like, why? Why was that the hill he chose to die on?”
“Because,” West sighs, “kids are chaos with legs.”
“Pure entropy,” Nash agrees, stabbing his mac and cheese with what may or may not be a s’mores stick he repurposed as a fork.
“One asked me if I was legally allowed to buy glitter,” Mandy says quietly. “What does thatmean?”
Jax laughs. Probably something their parents told them in order to avoid having to buy it.”
“They asked me how many people I’ve shot,” Nash mutters. “Before we even introduced ourselves.”
“They askedmehow babies were made,” Brandt adds.
Jax nods solemnly. “Same kid asked me that. Then asked if I could make one with West.”
West pauses mid-bite. “Okaywhat.That’s worse than the kid who asked me to explain what the dicks were on Riggs’s clipboard.”
“I didn’t even say no,” Jax mumbles. “I panicked and said we’d talk about it after lunch.”
McCormick is unbothered, sipping from his juice box like he’s thriving. “These kids are gonna remember us forever,” he says wistfully.
“They’re gonna need therapy forever,” West corrects.
“Same thing,” Jax deadpans.
Outside the cafeteria, a loud blast echoes before a thump and wet splatter against the window.
Mandy doesn’t even look up. “That better not be another weenie bomb.”
“I think it was one of the Thunderpants Triplets,” Brandt says proudly. “They’ve organized. There’s aranking systemnow. They’re building a fort.”
“I saw them sharpening popsicle sticks with a rock, like shivs.” Nash says.
“I saw them make a zipline out of pool noodles and fishing wire,” West adds grimly. “I didn’t stop them.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Jax says. “They made you their war chief.”
West shrugs. “They respect hierarchy. These kids are more capable than the recruits at my training camp!”
Another beat of silence. This one almost peaceful.
Then a tiny, sticky face appears at the window. “Mr. Daddy Thunderpants? We need more tape. And also a helmet.”
Brandt doesn't move. “Tell them to use the hotdog buns.”
The kid nods solemnly and vanishes.
Mandy leans back and exhales, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You know... I thought I was gonna hate this.”
