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Jay protests for a second but quickly gives up, tilting his head to the left to see the screen as he plays.

“Nah, I put my big-boy pants on,” Haze grins.

Her beady eyes grow even bigger as if she can’t imagine getting one of those without crying a river.

“Do you have one?” She turns to me.

“Me?” I laugh. “No, I’m too much of a chicken. Plus, Mom would probably never speak to me again.”

“Does that mean you want one?” Haze asks.

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted one. I just never had the guts. Maybe one day.”

“Why not now?” Maika urges.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m waiting for the right moment.”

Jay blesses us with his feedback. “Not to mention that you’re poor.”

I swat his arm. “Shut up.”

The front door opening stops our bickering. My parents are home. I glance at my phone. 8:15 sharp. I get up from the couch and hold out my hand to Haze, who doesn’t react. He whines when I pull on his arm, forcing him to get his ass off the couch. We’re both exhausted. As we head for the kitchen, Maika pushes past us, her energy uncontainable. Putting her to bed is going to be fun.

“Hey, guys,” my dad greets us. “How was the studying, pumpkin?” My mom doesn’t spare us a look, walking past us and straight into the kitchen. Well, hello to you, too, sunshine.

“Dad, I dressed up as a pumpkin for Halloween once. Once. You need to let it go.” I’ll never admit it, but I got used to the nickname. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Sorry, you’re going to be my pumpkin for the rest of your life. Deal with it.”

I chuckle.

“I’m still waiting to see those pictures, by the way,” Haze reminds him.

“Come on over anytime you’d like, son.” My dad pats him on the back. Images of Haze and my dad bonding over pictures of me on the potty flash in my mind.

“You will never see these pictures as long as I’m alive, thank you very much,” I snap, and Haze laughs.

“Okay. Fine. What about high school pictures?”

“In your dreams, Adams.”

Jay walks into the room. “Wait, has he never seen you with braces? What a shame.”

“Wait, you had braces?” Haze asks.

“Okay. That’s enough. We’re leaving now.” I drag Haze to the door.

“No, stay! We have pictures of Winter wearing the same princess costume for ten days in a row,” Jay mocks.

“I was five. Give me a break.”

“Mom, Mom! Can I get a tattoo?” Maika chimes in.

My mother’s mouth falls open.

She glares at Haze. “Now, who put that idea inside your head?”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “It’s probably me, I’m sorry.”

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