In The Morning

Awkward

"Do you have any friends?"

    "Sure."

"Who are they? I never see you with anyone."

   "You never will."
___

Chapter 3

     No one with more brain cells than a peanut could deny that breakfast the next morning was awkward.
    But, hell, their dad could try.

   In a sense, he forced Ryver to sit at the table to eat with their father and new "brother," and now that he had his family all together, he was trying desperately to get them to converse.   
   Ryver watched him set his fork down after a bite before he said, "Narvi, Ryver here will be showing you around your school tomorrow after you're enrolled. This is their third year, so if you ever get lost, find them; they will help you."
     His voice was stern in the last sentence, that no-nonsense tone that Ryver was used to and felt he would use more often now that this kid was living with them.
   "Yeah," they mumbled; they nearly added 'whatever' to their affirmation, but they didn't want to face the consequences if they did.
  Narvi nodded and said nothing.

       Their father only let dinner stay silent for a few more moments.
  "Tell us about yourself, Narvi." Ryver thought it was less an order and more a suggestion, but they saw Narvi look up suddenly with a subtle fear in his eyes. 
  Ryver rolled theirs.
       "Wh-what do you mean?"
Ryver cringed and tried to hide it by shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes into their mouth. Their father didn't miss a beat, "We would like to know simple things. Your favorite colors, sports; what do you like to do?" He took a bite of steamed carrots, then motioned at Ryver,
  "Ryver will go next." They stiffened. Of course.
  They felt Narvi tense up, and they spared another glance at him. He was clutching his fork surprisingly tight, and Ryver nearly chuckled at the idea of him bending it out of pure fear. He coughed, and as he opened his mouth to talk, Ryver wondered if he was going to have a panic attack at the breakfast table.
   It still took him a few damn minutes, and even then all he said was,
"I like stars."

  Ryver's fingers suddenly gripped their fork. Dammit.
   That phrase- that stupid cottdamn sentence triggered their fight or flight response, and oh norns he sounded so young.
      Ryver had know that he was only fourteen, but actually witnessing the gravity of that fact- well, they suddenly felt pity for the kid.
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
     "That's interesting. Astronomy and astrology happen to be a couple of my favorite subjects. I have a few books in my office if you'd like to take a look."
  Narvi nodded, and Ryver knew that their father would be expecting those books back in his office by the next morning.
    "What do you like about them?"
Narvi shifted, shrugged. Their father let the meal continue silently as he waited for Narvi to answer. He never did.

Ryver supposed their dad was done getting the kid to open up for one day. He let Narvi go back to his new room;  
  Ryver followed suit.