“I need to confess something…” Natt’s Dad spoke, “I did it. Now, can you pass me the wine?”

“See, Natt? Told you I wasn’t the one who ate your cookies!” Liam cried.

A wave of laughter floated over the dinner table. Glasses clinked and the whiff of garlic bread wafted through the air.

Hunter hovered his fork over his plate, his thoughts lost in a different house, a different table where laughter was something unheard of.

“Pasta, Hunter?” Mrs Vaughn asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He nodded with a smile and watched as Natt’s mother rolled the cheesy strings into his plate.

“Beth here makes the best Pasta in the whole Edenside!” Mr. Vaughn raised his fork to declare his verdict.

“Is that so?” Mrs. Vaughn smirked, setting another batch of freshly baked garlic breads on the table.

The searing smell of garlic and herbs made Hunter’s mouth water.

Liam let out a tired sighed beside him. His round glasses fogged up with every bite.

“Dad, you gotta level up if you wanna win over mom.” Natt said as she twirled her wine glass. The wine flowed smoothly at its rim, threatening to spill.

“Or else the subscription’s getting cancelled.”

Hunter laughed— so did everyone at the table.

If anything that held his interest that dinner, it was the Vaughn Family.

Him and Liam shared meals countless times with Natt’s family— The Vaughns. Perhaps even break a glass or two. The table had been worn smooth, witnessing each chaotic meal. And a scribble of green ink at its right corner. Their **_Friendship Pact_** signed under Natt’s leadership in third grade.

Hunter tore a piece of his garlic bread and ate it. The bread melted on his tongue, giving way for its savory taste. Yep. It just kept getting better every time. Mrs Vaughn _is_ the best cook of Edenside.

“If you could perhaps put the phone down!” A sharp voice echoed from his memory.

The illusion of the Vaughn’s table shattered like glass. The warmth retreated. He suddenly found himself pulled back in time, at the Maverick Mansion. White cold light spilled from the chandelier over the dinner table.

“Can we just go through one dinner in peace?” His father slammed the silver fork into the table.

“We’re your family, Arthur! _When_ will you understand!” The chair skid. His mother stood up.

His sister sat across him— eyes fixed below. Fork scraping against the plate. Her black hairs were pulled up in a tight ponytail.

“Everything I do is for the family!” Arthur continued.

“I beg to differ.”

Hunter looked down at his plate adorned with most scrumptious delicacies money could buy. His curled his hands into a small fist, crinkling the fabric of his pants.

He shut his eyes, hoping to black out the noises.

“Right, Hunter?” Said a voice.

He opened his eyes. The dinner scene vanished. His pasta was untouched. The golden lights returned.

He looked around the table, and found Mr. Vaughn nodding expectantly at him.

Mrs Vaughn hand hovered over the pitcher. Her blue eyes, knowing, softened as his gaze met hers.

“I— Sorry…” he cleared his throat, “I wasn’t listening…”

Darn it. She knew something was wrong.

Hunter felt everyone’s eyes burning into him.

“Movie night, tomorrow.” Natt’s Dad grinned, “You up for it?”

“Can’t miss it.” Hunter smiled, shaking off the unease that crept over him. “Gotta keep up the 20 year long tradition.”

“Yep.” Liam pulled his glasses over his head, tired of his fogged view. “But we’re not watching Big Hero 6. I swear I saw Hunter tear up last time.”

“I DID NOT?” Hunter protested.

“BHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Natt threw her head back in a laugh.

Mrs. Vaughn chuckled. She patted his shoulder removing crumbs.

Hunter dragged his hand down his face. Yep. Definitely the folks he grew up with.