Page 84 of My Family

The banter continues, escalating in volume and absurdity. Liam's leg bounces. I press my knee harder against his. He presses back. I lean close enough that my mouth is near his ear.

"Breathe," I say. "In for four. Hold for four. Out for four."

He does. He's always so obedient. I count with him silently, matching my breath to his, and by the third cycle, I feel his leg slow just a little bit.

Around the two-hour mark, when the talk has mostly died and we're just riding it out, I notice it clearly: the thing between Tyler and Reed. Tyler shifts, adjusting his position, and his eyes flick to the back of the van for half a second before snapping forward again. Then, a few minutes later, Reed opens his eyes. He stares at the ceiling of the van, then his gaze drifts forward, directly to Tyler, and he watches him before closing his eyes again. It's not a normal stare, though. It's a charged one. A weird one.

Liam catches my eye. He's noticed it too. We both nod. Liam smiles.

The highway narrows. Signs for Westlake appear. It's a forgotten little town. The van slows, turns, and the landscape turns suburban: schools, strip malls, and parking lots.

We get to the hotel. It's a Holiday Inn. Not the kind with a pool and a continental breakfast, but the kind with a parking lot that needs repaving and a lobby that smells like carpet cleaner. The sign out front is missing the L, so it reads HOIDAY INN.

But it's a hotel nonetheless.

Griff assembles us outside the lobby while Santos handles check-in at the front desk.

"Ground rules," he says. "You are representatives of Aspire Academy. You will conduct yourselves accordingly. No leaving the hotel. No disturbances at any time. You may stay on the hotel premises, but if I even dream that you thought about leaving, you'll be sitting in the hole for the next month. No more MMA, no more trips or breaks for the foreseeable future, and you'll definitely have time added to your sentence. Same goes if I hear about any issues from the hotel staff. Are we clear?"

We say a variant of "yes, sir" in unison.

"Room assignments." Griff consults his clipboard, though I suspect he has them memorized and the clipboard is just a prop. "Ethan and Marsal, room 204."

Liam's body does a thing beside me, a full-body suppression of joy, every muscle engaged in the act of not reacting, which is itself a reaction so obvious that Jack snorts loudly.

"Hoffman and Farley Junior, room 206."

Tyler's head snaps toward Griff. Reed, who has been leaning against the wall menacingly, stops leaning and frowns.

"No," Tyler says.

"No," Reed says half a second later.

Griff looks up from the clipboard. His expression doesn't change. "That wasn't a request," he says. "Room 206. Key cards will be at the desk."

Tyler opens his mouth. Griff raises one eyebrow. Tyler closes his mouth. Reed exhales through his nose, trying to control himself.

"Perry and Santana, room 202. Smith and Hamilton, room 200." Griff tucks the clipboard under his arm. "You have thirty minutes to settle in. Then, team meeting in my room, 212. Dismissed."

We head to our rooms. Tyler and Reed can barely walk down the same hallway without glaring at each other.

"They're going to murder each other," Liam whispers to me.

I shake my head slowly. I know Reed wouldn't do anything that bad, but I still don't like the way he is with my brother.

The hallway on the second floor has stained blue carpet. The doors are spaced at regular intervals, each one identical, each one representing something none of us have had in years: a room with a lock that works from the inside.

Liam gets the key card to work on the second try, his hands shaking, and it's very cute how nervous he is. The door swings open and we step into the room. Two queen beds with white comforters. A TV bolted to the wall. A bathroom with white tile and individually wrapped soaps. A window overlooking the parking lot.

Liam stands in the middle of it like he's entered a cathedral.

"There's a coffeemaker!" he exclaims. "Daddy! There's a coffeemaker."

"I see it."

"And little shampoo bottles. Look at them. They're so small."

I chuckle. "Yeah, baby. They're small, like you."