Emery [bxb]

53

Emery's first ever full-course meal is a garden salad with cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, and pepper; rice; breaded, store-bought chicken, and a soup his grandma used to make him that he's trying all by himself for the first time.

I'm starving. Yes, school is demanding. But girls are even more demanding. My girlfriend wanted us to take a selfie yesterday. She wanted it to be just us so she gave Emery a look that clearly said: please move. But I pulled him back into the frame and tilted her phone to make it a selfie of just Emery and I. She was pissed, and I've spent the last twenty-four hours talking her down from an aneurysm.

I know he spent a lot of his extremely precious and scarce time on this, and the look on his face says that he's very proud of it.

"Oh...mmm." I cough upon trying the soup. "Wow," I clear my throat. "This is...really good, E."

"You really think so?"

I nod, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay. I grab a glass of water and down it. The soup is watery, bland and mushy, with little gritty bits of I-don't-know-what getting stuck in my throat.

"I know you're lying," he sighs, "but I'll get better."

I knock his shoulder lightly.

"No, no. You will, but seriously, this is good. Thank you."

Emery beams back at me.