"Stay. Please." Dad looks at me with pleading eyes, grabbing my wrist to stop me from walking away.

"Not right now. Sander needs help babysitting his siblings and I have to study. Besides, it's Monday! I have classes tomorrow."

"The upcoming weekend?"

"I don't know, Dad. I need to study and I'm not sure how long Sander's siblings will be with us. What's with the hurry?"

"It's not a hurry, it's losing my patience. I've asked you to spend time with me for months, but you're always 'busy'. I just want some time with you. I barely see you. This... this is what's making your mother feel like I'm replacing you guys with Chuck; you don't give me the chance to talk to you."

My heart sinks a bit as I look down, nodding. "I understand, but especially right now, I can't disappear for a whole weekend. Maybe during winter break."

His gaze softens lightly. "Okay. Better send me a date."

"I will. Must go now, though. See you."

Before I get to walk out of the door, Dad embraces me with a hug. I peek at the living room one last time. At his new son and wife. At Sonya, who decided to stay with Dad instead of Mom for once.

"Bye, Newton."

I nod one last time, then finally close the door behind me. I need to visit the supermarket, take the train back home, catch up with Randy, Rico, Mal, and Kieran before they kill me, and help Sander with Claire and Ledger again.

Twenty minutes later, the groceries are in my hands. My feet automatically move to the right spot–it's not that far away from home. Just a few streets. Sonya and Sander used to meet up very often because of this.

Once I'm in front of his house, I stop for a moment.

It's a terraced one. The bricks are a shade of brown, streaked dirte, as though the house itself has been neglected for years. The mortar is crumbling in places, and a deep crack snakes up one corner of the building.

The front door, once painted white, is now peeling and gray, with rusted parts that squeal loudly whenever it's opened. The single window on the first floor is clouded with dirt from cigarettes and general dust. Faded lace curtains hang limply on the inside, more for blocking prying eyes than for decoration.

A narrow strip of what might have once been a garden separates the house from the pavement. Now, it's just a patch of dry dirt with a few weeds poking through. A bicycle leans against the wall. The mailbox, dented and crooked, clings to the wall by a single loose screw.

The roof is missing a few tiles. The gutter threatens to fall off any moment. Trash collects by the front steps—cigarette butts, scraps of paper, and a crushed soda can.

I put the bag of groceries down in front of the door, ring the bell, and walk off.

✧

Peter Files

Rico: you said youd meet up with us newt

Mal: Yeah man. Where are u

Me: Sorry, I lost track of time and it's too late now. Gotta help Sander

Randy: Fag's always stealing you from us

I slip my phone in my pocket, swallowing as I open the door to the dorm. A heavy smell of food immediately enters my nose. Then the noise starts.

Claire is watching TV, Minho is sitting on the ground with Ledger, and Sander and Thomas are looking at a laptop together.

"Noot!" Ledger screams, so loudly that I quickly close the door before a teacher finds out we're hiding kids.

I put my jacket away. "Hi, there."

"Hey!" Minho grabs Ledger just when he tries to waddle over to me. "I was teaching him some important things! Don't interrupt."

"Your definition of important is no good." Opening the fridge, I touch my chin. "Do we have any leftovers?"

"Choco pud," Ledger calls out.

"No more pudding, Ledger," Sander warns. The glow from the laptop–which balances scarily on his lap–- highlights his face. His hair is slightly messy, like he ran his hands through it a few too many times. He's focused, his brows knitting together as he scrolls on the laptop again.

I shake my head and turn back to the fridge. Eventually, I warm some leftover pasta up in the microwave, sitting down on a chair.

"Newt, I'm obsessed with this kid," Minho announces. "He's so adorable."

I pull a face at his enthusiasm. I've never seen him this... sweet? Sort of.

"And I know you like him, too," he adds before turning back to Ledger. He fixes the kid's messy hair. "We just made a deal, right, Ledger?"

Ledger claps in his hands. "Over sleep!"

"Sleepover, yes," Minho corrects. "We're having a sleepover."

Sander looks up again. "You're not taking him to your dorm, Minho."

"Then I'll steal your bed."

"No. I need to stay with Claire."

"No, you don't. She doesn't even sleep in the same bed. She'll be fine. Right, Claire?"

Uninterested, the little girl shrugs.

"I want to stay, too," Thomas joins in with that stupid pout of his.

"We don't have space for that," Sander groans.

Minho gives him a dry look. "Thomas takes the couch, Claire takes the air mattress in Sander's room, and Ledger and I take his bed. Newt and Sander can simply share Newt's bed."

Sander freezes at Minho's suggestion, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as if they've suddenly forgotten how to move. His eyes dart toward me for a split second, then back to the laptop.

"Minho," I say flatly, "we're not doing that."

"What?" Minho shrugs, entirely unfazed. "It's the most logical arrangement. I have a feeling it's not the first time, either."

I glare at him, but he just ruffles Ledger's hair again.

"Uh, yeah, we're not doing that," Sander points out again.

"Wow. You always bring so much joy, especially when you leave the room." Minho rolls his eyes. "You're both adults. What's the big deal?"

Sander slams the laptop shut with a little too much force, causing Claire to look over briefly before returning her attention to the TV. "Do you ever wonder what your life would've been like if you'd gotten enough oxygen at birth?"

"Oh, that was too good." Minho throws his head back. "Where do you get these from?"

"Why are you two in an unspoken competition of insults?" Thomas wonders.

"Yeah, I don't know, but it's funny."

"Mini funny!" Ledger squeals.

"Oh, there we go again." As Sander throws his head back in annoynace, it's like a flash of heat streaks through me. The motion revealed something I've tried not to think of. The curve of his neck, the way his lips part—it's too close to that night.

I clear my throat. "You're not going to let us refuse, are you?"

Minho shakes his head. "Correct. It's homosapien for a reason, Newtie. Not heterosapien."

When my gaze darkens, Thomas innocently adds, "It's not gay if you say 'no homo' after."

"Wow, you guys make me feel so gay because of this," Sander shoots back. "My middle finger literally gets a boner."

"The kids are around!" Minho gasps dramatically, falling onto the ground. "I say we bring them to bed. You coming, T? We'll leave the lovebirds to fight it out. Or make out."

He picks Ledger up with exaggerated effort. "Come on, buddy. Let's find your PJs."

Thomas does the same with Claire. Before I know it, they've vanished.

I catch Sander's gaze. He's watching me, his expression unreadable. I feel a flicker of heat crawl up the back of my neck, and I quickly look away, pretending to be occupied with wiping the counter.

"Guess we have no choice," he murmurs.

The room feels tense now that Minho and Thomas have left with the kids. I sit back down at the table, pretending to focus on the last few bites of pasta, but my appetite's long gone.

"It's just for one night. Doesn't mean anything."

I look up. "I didn't say it did."

He huffs. "You didn't have to. I can tell by how tense you are every time they bring up... that."

Not responding, I put my empty bowl in the dishwasher.

"By the way," he speaks again, "it's really nice that you haven't been bringing people to your bed lately. Thanks for that."

"Yeah, you're welcome," I grumble a bit.

"So, what do you think? At least you'll remember this time."

My whole body stops moving for a few seconds. "Translate that into something less... Sander-ish."

"Oh, you know. It was a joke, though."

"Was it now?"

"Well, I mean, if you insist it's not..."

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the way my heart speeds up. "Hell no."

"Thought so." Even though I can't see him, I can hear the proud grin on his face.