Page 85 of My Family

"I'm keeping all of them."

"They won't let us take them back," I say.

He scowls for a second, playfully, then goes to the bed, throwing himself onto it with his arms spread.

"It's soft," he says, a little muffled, and he's so cute I want to squeeze him.

Jack appears in our doorway, leaning against the frame. "Quick PSA," he says, his voice like he's delivering grave news. "These walls are thin. I can hear Santana unpacking from two rooms away. So whatever you two are planning…" He gestures between us. "Just know Griff will hear. Maybe you're into that. You never know…"

"We're not planning anything," I say.

"Sure. And I'm not planning to eat every snack in the vending machine downstairs." He winks. "Behave, children."

He vanishes.

Three seconds later, his voice echoes from down the hall. "Cedric! There's a vending machine! It has Doritos! Do you think we can convince Santos to get some for us?"

Cedric's door opens and slams. Two sets of running footsteps pound toward the stairwell, suddenly competitive.

"Cedric bet me twenty push-ups he advances further than me," Dan says from somewhere in the hallway.

"I said I'd last longer," Cedric calls from downstairs, which isn't good behavior in any sense of the word.

Santana calls after them. "None of you need to worry about advancing. I've already visualized the entire bracket. I win by knockout in the second round, and then I win again in the semifinal by submission, and in the final I win by… actually, I haven't decided yet. I'm accepting suggestions."

"Disqualification," Jack offers.

Then the hallway goes quiet for thirty seconds. We hear boys running again, and Jack is back in our doorway. He's carrying a bag of Doritos, a Snickers, and a can of Coke.

"How the fuck did you get all that?" Liam asks, mesmerized by the snacks.

"Patterson! He's the man!"

Jack throws Liam a Snickers bar. It's Liam's favorite candy bar, and Jack probably knows it.

"Fuck yeah, man, thank you," he says, already unwrapping it.

He takes a bite, grunts in pleasure, and offers me some. I shake my head with a smile. He eats the rest gladly, and he probably knows I'm much happier to see him eat than to have a piece myself.

Thirty minutes go by fast. Right at the thirty-minute mark, I check my watch and tap Liam's knee.

"Time. Griff's room."

Liam groans from where he's sprawled on the bed, still holding his Snickers wrapper. "Five more minutes."

"Now, baby."

He rolls off the bed dramatically.

The hallway is already filling. Jack emerges from 202 with Doritos dust on his fingers and the can of Coke tucked under his arm like a football. Santana follows, still talking to no one in particular. Dan and Cedric come out of 200 mid-argument about something that sounds like it involves a push-up bet. Tyler exits 206, and he seems to be in the worst mood he's ever been in. Reed follows three steps behind, somehow in an even worse mood.

We file into room 212. Griff's room is identical to ours. Santos is sitting in the chair by the window, scrolling through her phone, and she gives us a nod as we crowd in.

"Sit," he says.

We arrange ourselves around the room. Jack claims the floor immediately, back against the wall, legs stretched out. Liam drops beside him. Tyler takes the far edge of the spare bed, and Reed, after a moment of calculation, leans against the wall by the door, as far from Tyler as possible. Dan sits on the floor near the desk. Cedric perches on the desk itself, feet dangling. Santana ends up cross-legged on the carpet between the two beds. I sit next to Liam.

Griff stands at the center of it all, arms folded, surveying us.