The Uneventful Life of Harvey Mackler

c h a p t e r | s i x

THE NEXT DAY, I wake up to the smell of something burning. Precisely food burning.

Now usually, my main suspect would be Hollis. He has this thing where he likes to treat food more like a fun experiment rather than something you were actually supposed to eat, and that meant most of his food creations end up producing potentially noxious gases and/or causing a fire.

But seeing as Hollis doesn't come back from his one-week summer camp until tomorrow (and is also banned from being in the kitchen unsupervised), I know it can't possibly be him.

With a groan, I force myself to get out of bed to find out what exactly is the source of the smell before the fire alarms go off.

Thinking about it longer, I decide it probably isn't Hunter either because he is actually a pretty descent cook. And you'd have to pay Hayden money before he'd proactively cook anything for someone other than himself — and he wouldn't burn his own food. That meant it could only be...

No.

They wouldn't.

Not even they were capable of that level of stupidness.

You don't know that, Harvey, my conscience taunts me.

Visions of a the kitchen on fire with an oblivious 5-year old prancing amongst the flames run through my head. I groan louder, quickening my pace down the stairs.

As if out of nowhere, Hunter pops in front of me with a suspiciously innocent smile on his face.

"Oh, hey, Harvey. You're up early." He's blocking the hallway. I'm forced to stop.

I narrow my eyes at him. "It's currently eleven thirty..."

"Well, yes. You see, I just wanted you to have a lie-in to make up for yesterday."

Yesterday?

Right, the party. That reminds me...

"You know, I'm still mad at you."

"And you have every right to," Hunter agrees. "However, if you could displace that... anger for a couple hours, there is a Harvey-themed gourmet breakfast with your name on it in the kitchen."

"Gourmet breakfast?" I snort. "You mean, the thing that's causing the smoke?"

"Burning...?" Hunter sniffs the air; his eyes widen. "Lancer! Bro! You were supposed to be watching the food!"

Better Lancer dancing in flames than Harry, at least.

Hunter pushes me aside, darting straight for the kitchen. Rolling my eyes, I trail after him, confused.

"Why is Lancer here?" I ask curiously, while Hunter forcefully pushes his drowsy looking best friend away from the stove to salvage what he could of his so-called gourmet breakfast.

"He stayed over, and helped me clean up the junk from the party this morning," Hunter explains. "Would've got Hayden to help out, but apparently, he got a job and he used the excuse of work to bail out on me. So instead, I'm stuck with this hungover loser."

"I'm sorry, man, okay?" Lancer mutters disinterestedly into the sink, which I sincerely hope isn't covered in puke.

"Shouldn't you be hungover too?" I ask.