“Yeah!” said Wynonna. “We’re rescuing him from the Evil Corporate Agenda. You know, the one that steals fathers from their homes, making them slaves to the system, while their children die of parental neglect and loneliness.”

“Actually,” I said, “Leif’s restaurant is a small, independently owned—Ow!”

Wynonna punched me in the arm.

“Yeah!” said Holden, nodding his head, getting more and more pumped by the second. “The Evil Corporate Agenda! Hell yeah!”

It was like his entire existence had prepared him for this one critical moment—which was beyond stupid. But I sighed and let him have it.

Imogen massaged her temples, like this was all just a bad dream. Not the mission. Mostly just Holden.

Of course, we had just finished performing a two-and-a-half-hour play directly after school ended. The four of us were experiencing varying degrees of starvation. We resolved to hit up IHOP, snarf down some pancakes, and strategize. We all agreed any form of a game plan sounded nice, and pancakes sounded even nicer.

It was decided. I went directly to my parents to tell them we were going out for food and also to be smothered in their love and adoration.

Willow looked relieved. She’d been on the receiving end of enough love and adoration to last a lifetime.

“Hey, there he is!” said Dad. He ruffled my hair—the way I was almost ashamed to admit that I loved—and then pulled me in for a hug. “You did great, bud, real great.”

“Okay, okay, Mom’s turn, hand him over,” said Mom.

She literally pried Dad’s arms open, stole me from his grasp, and hugged me even harder.

“You were excellent,” she said into my ear. “You and Willow. We’re so proud of both of you.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Hey, my friends and I were wanting to grab dinner together at IHOP, is that okay?”

My parents looked wounded—as if I had presented them with DNA evidence that I was adopted, and this was the first they’d heard of it.

“Oh,” said Dad. “Well, your mother and I were thinking of taking you and Willow out to dinner as well… but…”

“But it’s fine,” said Mom, in a damaged tone that indicated the opposite. “You have friends. We understand.”

“Yeah…” said Dad, nodding sadly. “Sure…”

“It’s okay…” said Mom, and I thought she might cry.

Even Willow looked devastated. Like I had just filed for my own parents’ divorce.

“But…” I said, “um…”

I stole a sideways glance at Wynonna, Imogen, and Holden, standing a distance away, but not far enough to look like they weren’t shamelessly eavesdropping.

Wynonna sighed. Nodded that it was okay. Forced a weak smile in the name of family.

“But… you could meet us there?” I said. “And sit and eat with us? If you’d like?”

“Oh!” said Mom, and her entire countenance changed. “Are you sure?”

“We wouldn’t be intruding?” said Dad.