With his eyes closed, Colby tensed up his facial muscles, bracing for Elaine’s punch. Not that it would do anything other than make him look like a prune.

  Hopefully, Elaine had not cast [Strengthen] before she punched his face off.

  But nothing happened.

  Either he had been punched so fast that the nerves in his face hadn't registered it yet, or it was such a devastating blow that he had died and was now a ghost that couldn’t feel anything other than an otherworldly urge to tend to any unfinished business.

  Then, he felt something. Two somethings. What he could only assume were two heavy logs on his shoulder. Those logs must’ve been rotten in the middle since they drooped down and slumped across his back.

  Fighting through the fear, he wrestled one eyelid open. The other remained stubbornly shut.

  What he saw through that single eye was a tangle of flaming red hair. It was immediately followed by a squeezing sensation that he could only describe as being crushed by a bear.

  “Elaine?” he asked, voice quivering.

  “I’m just glad you’re okay, Colby,” she said, her voice right next to his ear.

  “Weren’t you about to punch me?” he asked.

  “It’s called a fake out,” she said. “Don’t ever do anything that reckless again, okay?”

  “Reckless?” Porter asked. “Colby, what did you do?”

  Elaine finally released him from her bearish embrace and took a step back.

  “This guy took a shortcut through the roofs, but instead of climbing down like a normal person, he decided to jump off onto a pile of cheese below.”

  “Colby!” Porter screamed, rushing up to him in another embrace. Though this time, it didn’t feel like his guts were about to be squeezed out of every orifice. “Are you hurt anywhere? Did you hit your head?”

  “I’m okay, Port,” he said.

  Curds! He had really messed up. Making his best friend and ex-best friend needlessly worry about him, all because of his stupid height complex that he still refused to admit existed.

  “Group hug!” Elaine squealed in delight, rushing forward.

  All of a sudden, he felt his insides being squeezed into his outsides, and his feet were lifted off the soft, yellow sand.

  “Too tight!” he squeaked out.

  “Yeah, Elaine. Too tight!” Porter echoed.

  “Sorry,” she giggled, putting them down on the ground.

  “Wow, Elaine. You’re so strong. That’s amazing!” Porter asked.

  “Thanks, Port. But I may or may not have used [Strengthened],” she giggled

  “Next time, could you not do that?” Colby asked, as his hands danced around his body, making sure that his insides were still inside of him and not a part of his outsides. Thankfully, the only things sticking to him were sand, blue blood, shell bits, guts, and guilt for making his friends worry.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done something like that.”

  “Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” Elaine said, placing her hands on her hips, making her already big figure look even larger. In the next breath, she softened, hands by her sides. “And I shouldn’t have teased you like that. I didn’t realize you would do something like that over something so incredibly stupid.”

  “You are forgiven,” Colby said.

  “As are you,” she said.

  “And I forgive both of you, even though you haven’t done anything,” Porter chimed in.

  “So an IFU instead of an IOU? I graciously accept your offer, dear Porter,” Colby said.

  “As do I.”

  The three of them giggled at their theatrics.

  They were still knit as needles.

  That was one problem solved. Now, there was another.

  Colby looked around the cove. Shattered shells, spilled guts, and copper blue blood littered the beautiful sandy beach. They could let nature take its course, but boy, was she slow.

  “Does any one of you have a broom in their Inventory?” Colby asked.

  They both shook their heads.

  “Or a pot?”

  Porter shook his head. Elaine flapped her lips.

  “What do you need a pot for?”

  “I dunno. We have a bunch of fresh meat. Maybe we could make dinner or something?”

  “Dinner? Dinner! That’s it! That’s how we can celebrate!”

  “What are you talking about, Laine?”

  “We celebrate with dinner!”

  “You’re not talking about…”

  “Yes, I am,” she said, flashing a huge smile while slowly nodding her head.

  “I refuse.”

  “C’mon, Colbs. Please. You always refuse to try my cooking. It’ll mean a lot to me.” She leaned in close. Her hands clasped together, and she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  “I refuse again.”

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  “Fine. Let’s have a vote. Port, how do you feel about celebrating our accomplishments with a taste of my amazing cooking?”

  “I’m okay with it.”

  “That’s not fair,” Colby said. “It’s Porter we’re talking about. No offense, Port.”

  “It’s no biggie.”

  “Two against one, Colbs. You lose. Today, we celebrate with delicious lobster stew!”

  “Oh, gouda, please save me,” he whispered to himself.

  “What was that?” Elaine asked.

  “It’s better you don’t know,” he said.

  “If you say so. Now, both of you, separate out the usable meat from the nonusable ones while I try to come up with a recipe.“ She started pacing up and down, fingers stroking her chin as she tried to think about the best way to turn the monsters she had just eviscerated into something that could be eaten.

  “Sure thing, Elaine,” Porter said, picking up a Lob-stab shell that had bits of questionably edible mush—the sand and small bits of broken shell weren’t helping its cause either.

  “But we don’t even have a pot. How are you going to make stew?” Colby asked.

  “I know!” Porter exclaimed. “You can grab a pot from your kitchen and tell your parents about becoming a Knight-in-training!”

  Elaine paused in her tracks. Her lips quivered and her eyes softened. “I… That sounds like a great idea.”

  Porter waved his hands around in a panic, flinging chunks of Lob-stab mush and copper blue blood all over the place. “I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry, Elaine. You don’t have to go up there. I’ll run and buy a pot. I’m sorry, Elaine. I just thought that…I’m sorry, Elaine.”

  She took a deep breath and smiled.

  “No, it’s okay. You need to save up, right?”

  “Yes, but it’s no biggie, Elaine. It’s your celebration.”

  “And it’s yours too. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

  Colby highly doubted that.

  “Is it okay if I come with you?” he asked.

  “That’d be nice.” She smiled, yet her eyes revealed a deeper sadness that only he and Porter could recognize.

  They walked side by side out of the cove, stepping over the bits of lobsters, unless they wanted to waste even more of their potential dinner. At the entrance, Colby spotted the piles of [Cheese Pillow] that he had used to cushion his fall after being tossed around like a rag doll by Elaine. Even further beyond were the other [Cheese Pillows] from when he jumped off the roof. A terrible idea in hindsight, foresight, and just regular sight.

  He truly was blind. A bad friend.

  Even worse, he had wasted so much good cheese. It’s not like he could cut away the parts touched by sand. Grossness had already invaded their fluffiness. He had truly committed a grave sin.

  Elaine, despite her towering stature, seemed to shrink with every passing step. Worry coated her entire being, leaking out onto the ground in the form of lobster guts and blood that clung to her clothes.

  He knew exactly how to cheer her up.

  Then again…After that stunt from earlier, maybe not. At the very least, he knew how to distract her.

  “Laine, you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?” Colby asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Easy way.”

  Colby pointed towards the steps that Elaine had run down from, right next to the pile of wasted fluffiness. He dragged his finger upwards and to the side, tracing the path that led around the coast, creeping up towards the cliffs and stopping right at the lighthouse that sat high above the cove.

  “Hard way.”

  He turned around, finger shooting straight up the rocky surface right next to them.

  “I know you somehow managed to climb a tree, but I doubt you could climb up a sheer vertical cliff,” Elaine said.

  “When there’s a will, there’s a whey.”

  “In non-cheese terms, please.”

  “All I have to do is hold on to you while you climb.”

  “And I should do that because?”

  “Think of it as extra training, oh, Knight-in-training.”

  She stared at him for a good two seconds, mouth hung low as she processed his words. A puff of air blew out of her nostrils as she shook her head. “Fine. But if you fall down—”

  “I won’t,” Colby interrupted, showing off the goopy, sticky mozzarella [Cheese Gloves] he had just cast. “And even if I do”—he gestured to the twin piles of fluffiness—” the only thing broken is my heart from all of that wasted cheese.”

  Elaine shook her head again. She turned around, back facing him. “Just hop on.”

  He leaped onto her back, hands grasping her shoulders, and legs wrapped around her waist as a pair of extra sticky mozzarella [Cheese Boots] appeared over his shoes.

  “Do I even weigh anything to you?” Colby asked.

  “Not even a little.”

  Elaine inched closer toward the cliff of the alcove, tilting her head up. Colby did the same.

  It was so high up. This might’ve been a bad choice.

  Her fingers moved along the rock’s rough contour searching for a small little pocket to grip until they found one. She stuffed them in and pressed her shoes against the narrow ledges for support.

  Elaine pulled herself up with that inhumane strength of hers, gripping rock edge after rock edge. If she told him that she wasn’t even using [Strengthen], he’d believe it in a heartbeat—something that he had plenty to offer.

  The next thing Colby knew, the sandy ground below him grew further and further away. With every inch of height that they climbed, so did his pulse. His heart was doing the cha-cha, macarena, mambo, and fifty other dance moves all at the same time. Out of sheer morbid curiosity—more like stupidity—Colby glanced downwards.

  They were so high up.

  Something brown wanted to snake its way out of him.

  “Thanks, Colby,” Elaine whispered as they ascended a couple more inches of rock.

  “A-a-anything for you,” he stammered.

  They continued their climb in silence. Elaine focused on grabbing a ledge that wouldn’t crumble under their combined weight, while Colby focused on her blazing red hair.

  It was really red today. The way it flowed as a gentle breeze pushed through it reminded him of autumn leaves drifting to the ground—nope, wrong choice of thought.

  The way her hair flowed reminded him of… hair flowing? He was really bad at this. Bad was better than thinking about fall—nope, permission denied.

  Her red hair was flowing like flowing red hair. He truly was a wordsmith.

  “We’re here,” Elaine said, breaking him out of his horrible worded thoughts. Yeah, he should just stick to cheese.

  Colby looked down, a foolish choice if Elaine was tricking him.

  Too late for that.

  Below him, besides Elaine’s legs, was flat, solid ground. Tufts of green grass decorated the dirt.

  Thank gouda! He hadn’t fallen off.

  Colby unstuck himself from Elaine’s back, dropping to the floor. He’d kiss it if it weren’t so disgusting.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “No, I’m Colby,” he replied, laughing at his own joke.

  Shaking her head, she walked away towards the lighthouse. It was a round stone tower at the edge of the cliff. Rough bands of red and white stone climbed up the structure, clear even against the gray sea. At the top, a large crystal rested, awaiting the call of the night.

  Colby opened up his Inventory screen, sticking his hands and legs inside. When he retrieved them, the [Cheese Boots] and [Cheese Gloves] that covered his limbs were gone, stored within his Inventory.

  He could use the excuse that it was research to justify making them; that way, it wouldn’t be a waste of good cheese. Loopholes, his favorite type of hole.

  Colby jogged, catching up to Elaine’s long strides. She stopped right in front of the wooden door set into the curve of the stone. Bending slightly, she reached down and took his hand—despite the sticky white residue on it.

  “Are you okay?” Colby asked.

  She shook her head and tightened her grip, nearly turning his bones into paste. “I’m not.”

  Fighting through the pain, nothing compared to what Elaine was going through, he said, “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I have to do it eventually. Of all the things that brought me back here, I can’t believe it was a pot to make dinner.”

  “Laine…” his voice drew on, unsure what to say. The only thoughts that filled his mind were cheese: cheesy one-liners, cheesy puns, cheese recipes. Nothing with the emotional depth to handle what Elaine was going through.

  “It’s okay, Colbs,” Elaine said, gripping the doorknob. “It’s time to confront my parents.”

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