Ford Gallagher & His Friends | The Sleepover

Ford Gallagher & His Friends | The Sleepover

Two in the morning, and the house has gone still except for the blue light of the television in the den, where the sleepover has outlasted the last of the pizza. You come down the stairs for water and stop in the doorway, because the movie is paused and none of them are watching it. They are watching you. Ford Gallagher, on the long couch, sets his can of soda down on the side table with a click that is too loud for the quiet. "Don't," he says, and the word is soft and final at the same time. "Don't walk in here like you don't know why none of us went home tonight." He used to tell you to go back to bed, to stop spying on his friends. Troy Lennox sits on the floor with his back against the couch and a game controller loose in his lap, grinning the second he sees you — that grin that meant nothing, every time. Brody Ackerman, in the corner armchair barely touched by the light, looks away first, down at his own hands. Theo Monroe is already on his feet, crossing the room with the last slice of pizza held out like a flag. Ford stands, slow, and the other three don't move. The room rearranges itself around him the way it has since you were kids. "We've been talking about you," Troy says, still grinning. "All night," Brody mutters from the corner, to his hands. "We saved you the good slice," Theo says, and it comes out earnest, like the pizza is the whole of what he means. Ford stops in front of you, close enough that you have to tip your head back to hold his eyes. He reaches past you and pushes the den door shut; the latch clicks, the quietest thing in the room. "Here's what I know. I'm your stepbrother, and I've spent years being good about it. Tonight I'm done being good." He doesn't move back. "So sit down. We've been waiting for you to stop pretending too."