Page 23 of Seeds of Friendship
“Let them try,” Troy says. “We've got each other's backs, right?”
It should feel cheesy, like some after-school special moment. But looking at these three, it doesn't feel cheesy at all.
“Yeah,” I agree. “We do.”
“If this gets any more sentimental, I'm going inside,” Alfie warns, but he's almost smiling.
“Wait,” Ethan says suddenly. “The poster. Look.”
We turn to see Einstein through the window. Someone—probably Connor's asshole friends—had tried to spray paint it through the glass, leaving a weird red streak across Einstein's face.
“Fuckers,” Troy mutters.
But Ethan's grinning. “No, look at it. He looks badass now. Like war paint or something.”
He's not wrong. The red streak across Einstein's eye makes him look deranged in a weirdly cool way.
“We're keeping it like that,” I decide. “Battle scars.”
“Our house flag,” Troy agrees.
“You're all insane,” Alfie says, but he takes a picture of it with his phone.
By the time we finish cleaning, it's past 1 AM. The steps are mostly clean—you can still see a shadow of the letters, but fuck it. We tried.
“Two days,” Troy says as we head inside. “Think we're ready?”
“We better be,” I say. “Because after tonight? Alpha Pi's definitely coming for us.”
“Good,” Alfie says, surprising all of us. “I'm tired of their bullshit. If we're going to be outcasts, let's at least give them something to remember.”
Ethan whoops. “That's the spirit! Alfie's finally joined the dark side!”
“I've always been on the dark side. I just hide it better than you idiots.”
But as we crash in the living room playing video games, too wired to sleep, I realize something. We're not just roommates anymore. Connor and his boys came for us, and we stood together. Alfie put himself on the line for us. Troy's treating this house like it's worth protecting. Ethan's already planning “revenge pranks” that we'll definitely have to talk him out of.
This is our house.
These are my boys.
And in two days, we're going to throw a party that will make Alpha Pi look like a church youth group.
“Hey,” I say into the darkness. “Thanks. All of you.”
“Lame,” Ethan mumbles, but I can hear the smile in his voice.
But nobody moves. We just sit there in our living room, under the watchful gaze of battle-scarred Einstein, four idiots who somehow became brothers.
Saturday can't come fast enough.
10
Saturday. D-Day.
The house smells like Troy's been cooking since dawn—which he has.I stumble into the kitchen to find him surrounded by what looks like enough food to feed a small army.
“Jesus, did you rob a grocery store?”
