Page 11 of We Are the Stars

“Not until therealnew week starts on Monday.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Just trust me here. I know things.”

“Fair enough,” she concedes.

Dad slides his fist over Erik’s way for a bump. He’s handled that exactly as Dad handles most things, proving you don’t have to be bound by blood to be alike.

“What’s everyone’s plans for the day?” Mom asks.

“No idea. I’m tired though.” Dad rolls his eyes at Fish’s answer.

“We have a hair appointment at three to get Erik’s ’fro trimmed down. It’s getting big, dude.”

“Can’t I keep it?”

“Are you going to take care of it?” He looks sheepish as he doesn’t answer, knowing full well he’ll only keep it for a week before wanting it trimmed down. “That’s what I thought,” Mom says.

“Can I get something else then?”

“Something like what?”

“Like this.” He motions like he’s making a mohawk. “Brett has one now.”

Mom and Dad share a glance before Mom shrugs, saying, “I don’t see why not, but you have to keep the long part in check. Promise?” He nods. “Good. Fish, you interested in tagging along? You could use a trim too.”

Since Fish scarcely leaves the house nowadays, his hair has now grown out to where it’s nearly touching his shoulders. While he’s always kept his hair on the longer side, this is by far the longest it’s ever been—another result of the accident, more evidence of how much it has changed his life.

“Uh…can I think on it?”

“Sure,” Mom says with the patience of a saint. “Nigel?”

“We’re watching the baseball game down at Sid’s later. Meeting there about four.”

“The game doesn’t start until six thirty. That means you fools have too much time to get into trouble.”

“Oh, please, Kaye. We’re all well-behaved gentlemen.”

“That’s the biggest lie I have ever heard.”

“Is it, Kaye? Is it really?” he teases. She throws a carrot stick at him and he dodges it. “I’m not picking that up.”

“Trust me, dear, I didn’t expect you to.”

I may be biased here because they’re the only parents I’ve known my entire life, but their love is the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed. I’m not saying they don’t have their faults—everyone does—but they always appear as a united front. They’re strong together and seem to be able to withstand anything. If I ever enter into a long-term relationship with someone, I want it to be exactly like my parents’—something strong and lasting with someone who communicates with me, even if it’s only through a stare.

“And you, Elliott?”

Pushing my clean plate away from me, I slide down into my seat more. “I like Fish’s plan to sleep.”

“Not going to talk with Jase?”

“What’s going on with Jase?” Fish interjects.

“Nothing. Everything. He’s on my nerves.”

“What happened?”

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