Slate | ✓

SIXTEEN | WILL

The steaming mass of scrambled eggs sits in a puddle of its own juices and jiggles as it's placed before me. Beside the eggs an untoasted piece of white bread absorbs the excess liquids. To my right, Damien digs into his own food, forking the eggs onto the soggy slice of bread.

Damien's mom—her short, dyed blonde hair curling behind her ears—looks at me expectantly over reading glasses. I try for a wide, convincing smile. "I'm so hungry, Ms. McDougal, this is great. Thank you."

She returns the smile and sits down at the opposite end of the table. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her stout nose. Her attention returns to the magazine left open before her. "Absolutely no trouble at all, Will." She says, not looking up. "You're always welcome. It's nice to have you with us."

I mutter more thanks and force myself to pick up the fork despite the revolt in my stomach. Something strange has been going on with my appetite. Like I know I haven't eaten, but no matter what I still feel full. I decide to blame it on the cigarettes.

"I've already made the couch up for you," Maggie says, taking a break from glaring suspiciously at Damien to address me. With her dark hair and dark eyes, she looks like the female version of her nephew. "You need anything else, just ask." When I try to thank her again, she waves me off with a careless grin. "Please, you're the only one of Damien's friends I don't hate."

Damien rolls his eyes. His cheeks bulge with food.

Maggie narrows her gaze. "Catherine, I think your son is high again."

Damien's mom peers up from the magazine. Her eyes narrow. "Is that true, Damien?"

Damien sets down his food. "No, Jesus. It's a normal time for dinner, why can't I just be hungry?" His voice is a pitch higher than normal in his scramble to defend himself. "I've been at school all day, Will knows, he's been with me."

"It's true," I lie. "He hasn't touched the stuff." In reality, I was helping him with eye drops outside the front door twenty minutes ago, and giving my approval when the red shots streaking around the dark brown of his eyes finally subsided.

Maggie ignores me. "It's not very mature of you to bring your friend into this."

Damien shakes his head, but returns his focus back to the food. "Whatever."

"Well," Damien's mom says, already engrossed back into what she's reading. "If they're both denying it, not much I can do, is there?"

"And also, Will," Maggie's scrutiny turns on me, like she's lost a battle but not the war. "I noticed some cigarette butts around Damien's window ledge. As you know, my ex-husband was a smoker, and I would really appreciate it if you could avoid doing it around the house while you're here. You know, if you can't stop altogether."

"Oh yeah, no problem," I respond, taking a hard gulp of the eggs. "I was thinking about quitting, actually." It's a product of complete improvisation.

Damien shoots me a curious look. He raises a single eyebrow.

Maggie offers me a warm smile. "That's great, honey. You know, it really is a disease, people just don't think of it that way because it's everywhere."

I shrug and look down at my plate. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Never really thought of it."

She takes a sip of her tea. "Well, good for you. Nobody stays young forever, even though that's what everyone believes at your age. These things always come back to haunt you."

Beside me, Damien begins to finish his food, and, with horror, I realize I've barely eaten half of mine. I send him a pleading look. He stands up, urging me to do the same."If it's alright with you guys, Will and I have a lot of homework to catch up on so I think we'll just finish this in my room." Damien announces as he chews on his last bites of bread.