“Beats me.” Spike glanced askance at the brightly-lit screen, wriggling his own phone. “Why can’t Micah tell us himself? I haven’t heard from him all day.”
On the screen, the message read, Dad says he’ll see you guys at home instead of at the office.
“Think he wants us to go to the office anyway?” Spike asked, eyeing the chemistry building. They’d been at basketball practice, Kai’s ankle healed enough that he was back with his team, playing practice games for the new season.
And that scholarship appeal he’d submitted... he hadn’t heard anything about it.
“He might be busy,” Kai said. “Let’s head back. Start dinner or something. Give him a surprise.”
Spike perked up at that. “Sounds good.”
“Wanna stop by Pigeon’s? If he’s that caught up in work, he might appreciate a gift. We haven’t really talked about the baby.”
Spike wriggled in delight. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around. Let’s go.”
Kai snorted, turning the car out of the parking lot. “That’s all you keep me around for.”
It wasn’t true, but more often than not, Spike had been wrapping himself around Micah in their bed, holding possessively onto him as they slept. Kai had been on the outside of that, and it didn’t feel quite as good, watching Micah murmur to Spike, I love you.
Would Micah ever love Kai? Or was that slipped-up endearment in the bathroom all Kai would ever hear from him? It wasn’t like Kai was staying in Meadowfall for long, anyway, if Micah didn’t need him around.
He shoved away the pang of envy in his chest, heading for the largest department store.
The baby section was vast—stacks of onesies, mittens, and socks, and shelves of stuffed toys and blankets. They paused at the edge of the section, momentarily stumped for words.
“I think Micah will find his way around here a lot easier,” Spike finally said, scratching his neck. “What do you think he wants?”
Kai had peeked into Micah’s closet—he hadn’t been able to find any of York’s baby things, except for a small drawer half-full of tiny, fire-damaged clothes. “Clothes, I think,” Kai eventually said. All babies needed clothes, right? “But I hear they outgrow clothes damn fast.”
“What if we get some big ones?” Spike headed for a rack of PJs for two-year-olds.
Kai thought about it. “The baby can’t wear these for two whole years. Maybe some six-month clothes, some twelve-month clothes, some eighteen-month ones. Three of each.”
“Three is enough, right?” Spike asked, glancing at the price tags. “They’ll add up fast.”
Kai sighed. He’d taken up a second part-time job, too, trying to fund his studies. Money was still tight—they’d been insisting that Micah take more than the rent he asked for; he’d been buying food for them, too. But that left them with... not a lot of extra cash to go around. At least Kai’s ankle had mostly healed, so he could walk and play basketball with his team again.
Spike looked at him sidelong. “We keep trying to save up,” Spike murmured. “And yet I think this is hardly a drop compared to the kind of money Micah makes.”
“He’s way out of our league.” Kai had known that for a while. He hadn’t wanted to remind Spike, though.
“He’s ours,” Spike said, but he looked more uncertain now. “I won’t disappoint him.”
“Neither will I.”
Spike’s phone buzzed. He opened the new message; Kai looked over his shoulder. Spike had been having a conversation with their mom, asking how she’d been doing.
Not so great, she answered. The car broke down. I had to fix my transmission, but I’ll need to take up more hours to pay for it. Hours are hard to come by lately.
Kai stared at the message, his heart sinking. For the longest time, Kai remembered Mom teaching him and Spike to keep an emergency fund, so they could deal with things like this. But emergency funds weren’t always enough. Sometimes, you needed far more than you had.
Spike sighed, resigned. “How much do you wanna send her way?”
The phone buzzed with another message. DON’T give me more money, Mom wrote. I can manage.
Spike snorted. “Yeah, right, Mom. That’s not how we roll.”
Yeah, it really wasn’t. “Transmissions are expensive. Heard someone paying a grand to get theirs done.” Kai grimaced. “We could scrape together five hundred.”
“How much does that leave us?”
“Negative fifty. I get paid this Friday.”
Spike’s throat worked. He pulled open his wallet, fingering the bills he had left. “So... are we still doing the baby clothes for Micah?”
Kai wanted to. And from the look on Spike’s face, Spike did, too. “We’ll do one of each size,” Kai finally said. “And a rain check on multiples.”
It wasn’t much, but Spike cheered up some. “I feel so cheap, getting him one of each size. He can buy like, five each himself, easy.”
Kai exhaled. He wanted to do more for Micah. He wanted to show how much he appreciated that omega. But short of taking up a third job and tanking his grades even further... “We’ll think of something,” Kai said. “Fix dinners every day instead of just helping out. So he has time to himself.”
Spike nodded eagerly. “Yeah, we’ll do that.”
At the cashier, Kai cracked open his wallet, handing Spike what little money he had left. It wasn’t much. But the joy on Spike’s face when the transaction went through—that was worth it.
Spike clutched the bag of baby clothes as they headed out of Pigeons, a tiny skip in his step. “I think Micah will love these.”
Kai cheered up. “Yeah, me too.”
They found Micah’s car back at the apartment. The doors on the driver’s side had been replaced—instead of white like the rest of the car, the new doors were a matte black. It had been weeks since the crash, but the sight jarred Kai every time.
“Someday, I swear, I’m going to make enough to give Micah everything he needs,” Spike muttered.
That future seemed so far away.
The moment Kai stepped through the apartment door, the scent of tomato-y pasta sauce filled his nose. He followed Spike into the
