Aftershocks ➳ Philkas/Eyewitness

10

Episode 10: Orange Lilies

Philip drizzles maple syrup on his stack of warm, golden pancakes, watching the thick liquid slowly drip onto his plate. He takes a few bites in an attempt to soothe the growling hunger clawing at his ribcage. He washes down the sticky food with a gulp of orange juice. Across the table, Gabe stifles a laugh, and Philip looks up with a mouthful of pancakes, syrup dripping from the corners of his mouth.

"What?" he asks, still chewing his food.

Gabe just shakes his head. "You're acting like you're starving."

"I'm just hungry. Thanks for making breakfast, Helen," he tells his foster mother, nodding in her direction. He grabs a piece of bacon from the center of the table and takes a small nibble. "Everything is really delicious."

Helen hums, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear. She's dressed in her sheriff uniform and has her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. "You're welcome."

Philip licks his lips, tasting the lingering flavor of sugary maple. "So, I was wondering if I could have you sign something," he says, pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper from his backpack.

Helen raises an eyebrow. "That better not be a detention slip."

Philip shakes his head, laughing under his breath. "No, no. It's just a permission slip. To join a club at school."

Gabe lifts his head with interest. "A club?"

"Yeah. The school newspaper."

"I didn't know you were a writer," Helen says, eyes scanning across the page.

"I'm not. They need a photographer."

"That's wonderful, Philip," Helen muses. She continues to read more information about the journalism club, feeling warmth blossom in her stomach. Honestly, she's a little relieved to see Philip socializing with people other than Lukas. "It says the club meets after school on Mondays and Wednesdays," she reads aloud.

"Yeah," Philip murmurs, twiddling his thumbs. "I know I'm technically still grounded, but—

"It's fine, dear," Helen interrupts, raising her hand. "I think we can make an exception for extracurriculars."

"This is great, son," Gabe praises, clasping his large palm on Philip's shoulder. A toothy grin is spread across his thin, pale lips.

Philip smiles shyly as Helen scribbles her signature across the bottom of the permission slip. Philip thanks her quietly and stuffs it in his backpack alongside spiral-bound notebooks and colorful folders. He's smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt. He still can't believe the kids in the journalism club want to be his friend, despite all the rumors surrounding Philip's reputation. Everyone else thinks he's a stalker, a freak, a weird queer from the city.

"I'm glad you're making friends," Helen admits.

Philip blushes. "Well, I wouldn't say they're my friends quite yet," he mumbles. "More like friendly acquaintances."

Gabe laughs dryly. "Still, it's good to know not every kid at Red Hook is a total asshole."

Helen scoffs. "Gabe!"

"What?"

"You can't just call the children at Philip's school assholes."

Philip's laughs so hard he chokes on his bacon. He coughs a few times and tries to catch his breath. When he finally does, his face is as red as a cherry.

"He's almost eighteen years old, Helen. I think he can handle a little mild cursing."

Helen just rolls her eyes, but she can't hide the small smile that curls on her mouth.