They headed for the first door at the beginning of the hallway. Opening it revealed a creamsicle-colored bathroom. The walls, towels, and fuzzy bath mat were all a bright shade of orange. This one room was candy-coated in more color than every inch of the group home combined. Evan laughed at Jack’s giggling.

“It’s pretty ugly, isn’t it?” he asked.

“It looks like a popsicle,” Jack said, struggling to keep it together. 

“I have an idea,” Evan said, urgently walking down the hall towards the front room. Jack followed as he rounded the corner.

The archway into the kitchen also led through it into the living room at the back of the house. The kitchen itself was pretty plain. Counters lined opposite walls, and the far side was a half wall in the middle to let natural light in from the back room. The stove was too clean. It didn’t seem to get used.

Evan opened the freezer. It was half full of frozen prepackaged meals. He shoved his arm in towards the back and rooted around for the familiar packaging. After a minute of rummaging, he gave up.

“No dice on the popsicles. How do you feel about pizza rolls?” he asked.

“Uh, sure,” Jack shrugged, staying near the archway. His stomach should have been twisted with nerves, but it wasn't. He had an appetite for once. Evan slapped the bag onto the counter. It hit the tile with a loud ceramic clank.

“How do you feel now?” Evan asked, setting a loaded plate in the microwave for five minutes. 

“Better,” Jack said, stretching out his fingers. Clean air had helped clear his head a bit. He could feel his hands again as the white noise faded. 

Light dimly flashed through the windows. A delayed rumble rolled past. Evan nodded, still facing the microwave.

“It was getting pretty stuffy in there. You turned kind of gray.” He tapped his knuckles on the tile counter. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything if that’s what-”

“No, it’s nothing,” Jack interrupted, his ears burning.

“Are you sure? I can avoid bringing it up if I know what it is.” Evan turned to watch his expression.

“I’m just really stoned,” he insisted, his tone biting. He crossed his arms.

“Alright,” Evan backed off despite not being convinced. They didn't know each other well enough for him to press.

Low rumbles echoed in the distance. Evan tapped his knuckles against the counter, counting out the seconds between the flash and the thunder. The microwave whirred.

“You seem uh...” Jack couldn’t find the right word. “Not on the moon?”

“Yea. I should probably take a tolerance break.” He laughed like it was a joke.

“I think I’d melt if I felt like this all the time.” Jack let his arms fall back at his sides.

“What do you mean?” Evan’s eyebrows scrunched together.

“Um..” He had to focus on stringing the right words together in a sentence. “It’s like my brain slowed down.”

“Hah, yea. You get used to it.” Evan leaned back against the counter. “I think too many things at once when I’m sober. It makes it hard to think about anything.”

“My brain’s already slow,” Jack said, unable to relate. Evan smirked.

“You said it, not me.” He raised his hands defensively.

“Shut up.” Jack mirrored his smirk. 

The windows in the backroom flashed. Their panes rattled with the succeeding thunder. Evan watched the rain come on. He looked past the trees, worried.

“Did it hit something?” Jack asked, stepping further into the kitchen to see through the half-wall. Evan shook off the expression.

“No. I’ll have to move wood into the shed. I was planning on a bonfire for Halloween. It won't be dry by Friday if it sits in this.” He headed for the sliding glass door in the back room. 

Jack glanced at the microwave. It still had three minutes on it. He would have to stand in this unfamiliar kitchen for however long it took Evan to get back. Alone with his thoughts.

“Need a hand?” Jack followed after him.

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s fine.”

“Thanks.” He pulled back the door. A cold breeze blew into the house. The rain knocked loose yellow leaves from their trees. They swirled in the wind, unable to rest on the ground. “Ya know, when I heard about the whole Heather thing I pictured Kyle Jr.” Evan stepped out into the downpour. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Jack said, watching the dark clouds churn above.

“I’m not complaining. Knowing someone else who’s ‘not good with girls’ is cool,” he joked, using air quotes. The rain suddenly felt colder.

“Shut up.”