Six Things Before Breakfast

16

When Sanders come homes for the weekend to celebrate with his family (Becks can't come, she has extra training with her coach), his mom pulls him aside to ask him to drive her to her tennis match.

Except, of course, with Mahika, it's never just a drive to her tennis match.

It takes them a drive-thru for coffee and donuts for her to speak up. Sanders knows she's been holding it in, her and Hathai, ever since they went to dinner at Hugo's almost a month ago, and they haven't...really touched on the subject again. It's a little...touchy.

Then. Not anymore. Sanders is fine.

"So," his mom starts, munching on her donut, and Sanders takes another look at her bright pink pair of a tank top and track pants, and he can't keep himself from smiling. "How are things? How's school?"

"Mom, you can just ask me about Becks," he says, shifting the gear stick to park once the light turns red. He glances at his mother and takes a sip of his coffee. "I know you've been wanting to. You and Mâae aren't exactly subtle."

She huffs. "Fine. How are things with Becks? Yes to the wedding? No to the wedding...?"

Sanders shrugs with one shoulder. "We're fine. We're...getting back on track? I don't know, I've decided to tone down my feelings a lot. We're best friends."

"Huh." Mahika's eyebrows draw together as she leans back on her seat, but she faces her son and lifts one leg up. "You sound indifferent."

"Not indifferent, Mom." He smiles at her and places his drink back in its cupholder. "Look, she got me this." He raises his wrist to show her. "And she planned a whole celebration for me, baked me a fuckin' cake and everything. Anyway, we're good, I'm good, we are fine."

She nods slowly, not entirely convinced. She has brown powder on the corner of her mouth, and Sanders wipes it off with a tissue. "Okay..." she says slowly, pursing her lips. "Okay, if that's what you say. The light's green, sweetie."

"Right." Sanders steps on it. "Right."

Mahika puts a hand on his arm, and Sanders shoots her a one-second glance, as fast as one heartbeat, and he sees that she's worried, and loving, and kind. "Sanders. I'm just worried for your heart. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," he says, laughing, putting a hand over hers. "Yeah, Mom, I know. But I promise I'm fine. My heart's fine."

Or so he thinks.

Maxon and Kaitlyn are in the kitchen, they're cooking up something delicious for dinner, and Suho's eating straight from the peanut butter jar with a spoon, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Becks comes out of her room, freshly-showered, in a sweater and basketball shorts, and her curls are still a little damp and frizzy on her head, and she flops down on the couch beside Sanders and he smells her body wash, but he doesn't take his eyes off his phone as he's scrolling through his social media, and he doesn't move until Becks pinches his arm.

"Hey," she says, and Sanders looks up, blinking.

"What?" he mutters.

"You have a game this Friday, right?"

Sanders didn't even remember. He pauses the video playing on his screen and sends her a small smile. "Yeah. You remembered."

She shrugs and kicks her feet up, puts them over his lap, and Sanders freezes like a fucking idiot, stops breathing, but she lies down on the armrest and sighs. "'Course I remembered, you dumbass. It's a big game, lots of national team recruiters. I might probably be late, we're ending training just as the game's starting, but Adan and I will be there before the second set."