Calling Alan upset was an understatement. The moment he stepped into the room, the laughter died instantly. Without a single word wasted, he ordered both Jake and Austin straight to bed.
Normally, Austin would've fought to stay up until the New Year's countdown ended—but his tired, eleven-year-old body betrayed him. By half past ten, he was out cold.
The next morning, he woke with a groan, Jake's foot planted firmly on his stomach. With disgust, he shoved it away and sat up, rubbing his eyes. His hair stuck up in all directions as he stumbled toward the bathroom, toothbrush dangling from his mouth.
As he brushed, he caught his reflection in the mirror and frowned.
Wait… am I forgetting something?
He stared at himself for a second, foam gathering at the corners of his mouth, before his eyes widened.
"Mh gad, ei fgorot auobt da cehck en!" he garbled through a mouthful of toothpaste.
Spitting into the sink, he urgently called out, "System!"
The familiar blue light shimmered to life before his eyes:
[INTERSTELLAR QUEST SYSTEM]
Planet: Earth
Last Check-in: 10 years ago (Birth)
Next Check-in: Available
The word 'Available' carried a lot of emotion. He couldn't wait to unlock the new item. Before he could 'check in, Jake's desperate voice was heard from outside the door."Austin! Come out! I need to pee!"
"Wait a minute!" Austin shouted, toothbrush still between his teeth. "I'm almost done!"
"If you don't come out now, I'll pee on the door!"
"No, you won't," Austin said confidently. "Do that, and I'll tell everyone what you did in class."
"Just come out!" Jake's knocking only grew louder.
Austin sighed, yanked the door open, and before he could react, Jake grabbed his arm and shoved him out. The door slammed behind him.
"Jake!" Austin yelled, glaring at the closed door. He plopped down on a chair, toothbrush still bobbing in his mouth. With a muffled groan, he resumed brushing, looking around the hallway for another bathroom.
Austin decided he'd check in later—after breakfast. His stomach was growling louder than his curiosity, anyway. Still brushing, Austin wandered down the hallway in search of another bathroom. The house was quiet—only the distant crash of waves outside filled the silence. He turned a corner and nearly bumped straight into Uncle Charlie, who was carrying a mug of coffee and looked far too awake for this hour.
"Mh—mm, mawrey," Austin mumbled through a mouthful of foam.
Charlie grinned. "Easy there, champ. You brushing or foaming at the mouth?"
Austin pointed to the brush in his mouth and mimed turning the sink tap. Charlie, thankfully understanding what Austin was asking for, pointed to the bathroom. Austin spat out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth completely.
"Sorry about last night," he said, wiping his mouth. "Didn't mean to get you in trouble."
"Don't worry about it," said Charlie," Alan's like a pomeranian. He barks, but doesn't bite."
"Still," said Austin," I shouldn't have gambled. I was just bored."
"If being bored earns you money, then I wonder if you would become a millionaire if you're interested," said Charlie. He pulled out a thick wad of cash and rifled through it.
Austin frowned. "What's that?"
"Ninety bucks. Your winnings from last night." Charlie smirked proudly," I can't wait till you're older to take you to Vegas."
"Wait," Austin said, narrowing his eyes. "Wasn't the pot ninety-seven?"
Charlie took a sip of coffee. "House cut," he said matter-of-factly.
Austin crossed his arms, mock glaring. "You are stingier than I expected."
"Hey," Charlie shrugged," First rule of gambling, the house always wins. Anyway, take it. It's your money."
For a moment, Austin stared at the money. Ninety dollars—that was more than he'd ever held at once in this world. But after a beat, he pushed Charlie's hand back.
"I can't take this," said Austin.
"Of course, you won the money fair and square."
"What am I going to do with ninety dollars? I don't have any use for it. It's better spent getting Jake a nice birthday gift or something like that," said Austin, his heart bleeding.
Charlie froze, caught off guard. Then his usual grin softened into something more genuine. "You sure, kid?"
"Yeah," said Austin," If I take the money, I'll set a bad example for Jake. Poker should be for fun, not for money."
"Seriously, then we have different definitions of what poker is about," said Charlie. Still, Charlie took out forty dollars from the wad and stuffed it into his pocket."
"I can't take this," protested Austin.
"Just think of it as a gift from your uncle," said Charlie.
Austin left the money in his pocket and went back to his room. Before he left, Charlie said," Austin, Jake's the older one, not you."
…
The smell of toast and sizzling bacon wafted through the air by the time he joined the others in the kitchen. Alan stood by the counter, still in his work shirt, a mug of coffee steaming in his hand. Charlie sat at the table, pretending to read the paper but clearly avoiding eye contact with him. Jake was already eating, somberly spreading jam across his toast.
Alan looked up as Austin sat down. "Morning," he said, light-heartedly.
"Morning," Austin replied quietly, stabbing at his eggs. He could still feel the weight of Alan's disappointment from last night lingering like a storm cloud.
They ate in relative silence, save for Jake's hums and the clinking of utensils. When Alan finally set his mug down, the sound was final, almost commanding.
"Alright, boys," he said, straightening up. "As I told you yesterday, we're heading to Grandma's this morning. So finish up and pack your bags."
Austin looked up, blinking. "Wait—yesterday? You told us last night?"
Alan gave him a pointed look. "Yes, I did. But you were already half-asleep after your big poker night."
"Right," Austin muttered, rubbing his neck. "Guess I was."
"And you don't get to keep any money," said Alan.
"What money?" said Charlie, pulling out a stack of notes.
Alan was stunned. He gulped, looking at the stack of notes," Wait, exactly how much did he earn?"
"Fifty dollars," said Charlie.
Alan's jaw went slack. "Fifty dollars? You let my ten-year-old gamble fifty dollars?"
Charlie lifted his hands defensively, grinning sheepishly. "Technically, he won it. And he gave all the money back to me."
"Really, well, I'm proud of you, Austin," said Alan, happy that his son was 'responsible'.
"Proud enough to not go to grandma's," asked Austin hopefully.
"No," said Alan.
"Well, it was worth a shot," shrugged Austin.
Alan's expression softened, though his tone stayed firm. "You did the right thing, Austin. But that doesn't mean you're off the hook."
Austin sighed. "I know."
Alan stood and picked up his empty mug. "Finish breakfast and pack your things. We're leaving in an hour."
By the time Austin went back to the room to pack, the tension had ebbed, leaving behind the quiet hum of a normal morning. He folded his clothes neatly into his bag, grabbed his sketchbook and charger, and slung the strap over his shoulder.
"Austin! Dad says hurry up!"
"Coming!" he called back.
Austin and Jake stood by the doorway, backpacks slung over their shoulders, while Alan loaded their duffel bags into the car. The Malibu morning sun spilled golden light over the driveway, bouncing off Charlie's sunglasses as he leaned against the porch railing, coffee mug in hand.
Jake waved to Charlie as the car left the driveway.