Page 36 of Lance

I shrug. “I like to add ranch to lots of stuff. It’s a Midwesterner thing.” He’s still watching me. “You wanna try it? It’s pretty good to dip your friesin.”

He shrugs, so I shake a little dollop on his plate before stealing a fry. “Hey!” he cries as I dip it into the ranch. “That’smine!”

“I traded you for the ranch,” I tell him before popping it in my mouth. “Mmm.Delicious.”

He laughs a little and picks up another fry, twirling it through the dressing before he eats it. His face takes on a serious expression as he chews. “That actually is prettygood.”

The words sound grown up coming from him and I laugh. “Told you. I like to put on my pizzatoo.”

He alternates fries and bites of cheeseburger for a while and I chew my sandwich, trying not to notice how hungry he seems. Once his plate is mostly clear he pulls the spaghetti over and starts carefully cutting it with a knife andfork.

“Don’t you like to twirl it?” Iask.

“I’m not subpost to,” he says. “Mom says I get messy because I slurp too much.” Then he looks up, his eyes hopeful. “Even though slurping is half thefun.”

I grin. “You know, staying in a hotel is kind of like being on vacation. I think it’s okay to bend some of the rules on vacation, don’t you? Not the big rules,” I say quickly when his lips turn up in a mischievous sort of way. “You still can’t hit or be mean to people and you can’t lie and all of that. But a little spaghetti twirling won’t hurtanyone.”

“I won’t be introuble?”

“Nope. Slurpaway.”

He does, grinning the entiretime.

“Why do you like Ahsoka Tano much?” he asks me, twirling his fork in the pasta for a secondbite.

“Well, she’s a really good Padawan. And it’s nice to see a girl be a good fighter—lots of shows leave that up to the boy characters. Why do you like Anakin somuch?”

He shrugs. “I just think he’s the coolest. He’s the most powerful Jediever. And the Jedi have been around for ages. That must make him reallygood.”

I nod. “Good point. IsClone Warsyour favoritethen?”

He slurps up some more spaghetti, shaking his head. “Nope.Captain America. He’s myfavorite.”

“Okay, high five for that,” I say, reaching across the table. He slaps my hand happily. “Do you like the comics more or themovies?”

“Both! I have a few comics in my bag,actually.”

“Will you show me afterdinner?’

His eyes go big at that and he attacks his spaghetti with gusto. Just when I think I should maybe stop him—how much can a little kid eat without getting sick?—he pushes the plate away. “I guess I’m getting prettyfull.”

“No problem,” I assure him. “You ate like achamp.”

I save our cookies on a napkin for later. Then I stack our mostly empty plates back on the tray and ask Simon to hold the door open so I can put it in the hallway. “You just leave it there?” he asks, soundingamazed.

“Yeah, someone will come getit.”

“Wow.”

“And they come and make up your bed in themorning.”

“Hotels areamazing!”

I laugh. “Pretty much. Okay, let’s see thesecomics.”

He goes to his bag and pulls out a few tattered editions. They’re pretty old and seem to come from a hodgepodge of different series. I have a feeling someone bought them at a garage sale orsomething.

“I’m pretty good at drawing the shield,” Simon tellsme.