Page 111 of My Family

And it's Miles.

He sits two chairs down from me at our usual table with Jack and Ethan. Harry has started joining us lately too, and sometimes even Tyler.

Miles peels the crust from his sandwich, same as always.

But he's humming.

He doesn't seem aware of it, but I notice immediately because it's so fucking weird for him.

Jack notices too, but in his own Jack way.

"Miles, you got a tune stuck in your head?" he asks, biting into his apple.

Miles blinks.

The humming stops.

He looks at Jack, then at his sandwich, then at me, and after a slight delay, says, "It's Bach's Cello Suite No. 1."

"Classy," Jack says, and I'm pretty sure he, just like me, has no fucking clue what Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 is.

I watch Miles.

He's sitting up straight, and he seems to be in an awfully good mood.

Then, out of nowhere, he smiles.

What the fuck is going on?

The rest of the day is a normal day.

Quiet Time, where we tell Harry everything that happened while we were away.

"He actually got us Chinese food," Jack says.

"Who fucking cares?" Harry says, because he's an annoying prick.

Our annoying prick, unfortunately, so we have to put up with him.

Then snack time. Exercise time. Yes, MMA again.

I'm so sick of MMA that I ask Griff if I can sit this one out, and he actually lets me. He must be feeling very sorry for me, which is convenient because I'm also feeling very sorry for myself.

Then showers, dinner, and during rec time, I stay with Ethan on his bed.

Just cuddling.

The following morning, there's art class with Vikki, which is everyone's favorite even if no one will admit it.

She's the only teacher here who treats us like we're people.

Today she's got a still life set up at the front of the room: a plastic skull, a glass bottle, a fake potted plant, and a rubber duck, because "real artists must be prepared to draw any fucking thing that enters their field of vision."

Her words, not mine.

We draw, but she says we can paint, collage, sculpt, whatever we want, as long as we hand her some kind of art by the end.

The room is quiet. The other classes have trained us well to stay that way unless we want to be punished, and we usually don't.