Looking Like Goob from Meet the Robinsons

Just then, Marcus yawned, rubbing sleep from his eyes and dragging a hand down his face. "Hey Ash… you're back." He blinked a few times, still groggy. "Why does my face feel… itchy?"

Alia sat cross-legged on the chair, looking way too innocent.

"No clue," she said, blinking dramatically.

"Alia…" I warned, already seeing the mischief in her eyes.

She grinned.

Right on cue, the hospital room door creaked open, and a teenage boy with the snack bag—Mrs. Jennings' grandson, walked in. The one with the bushy brows.

Still chewing on a chip, he took one look at Marcus and nearly choked from laughing.

"Yo, bro…why you look like a failed TikTok filter?" he said pointing his finger.

Marcus blinked, confused. "What?"

The boy pointed again, cackling. "Nah, wait….wait. You look like a depressed French art student who got dumped through text."

"ALIA!" Marcus shouted, leaping to the IV cart mirror.

And when he saw it? The curled mustache. The fake mole. The unibrow?

"What did you do to me!?" he shouted.

He lost it. "I look like old Goob from meet the Robinsons."

One glance at his reflection and he let out a horrified groan.

Alia screamed with laughter and sprinted behind me for cover. "It was for art! I was channeling my creative process!"

The boy snorted.

Alia poked her head from behind my back. "Also… you said I couldn't draw, so this was personal."

"You look sophisticated," I said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"Yeah," the chip guy chimed in. "Sophisticated."

"You're both fired," Marcus muttered.

Marcus groaned again, but his lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. He shot me a glare. "Ash. Control your sibling."

"She's your responsibility now," I said, holding up my hands. "Good luck."

The chip boy offered him a crisp. "At least take a victory snack."

Marcus slapped it out of his hand. "I want justice. Not cholesterol."

Alia laughed so hard she fell to the floor.

Mrs. Jennings' grandson fist-bumped her. "You're evil. I like you."

"Thanks," Alia said proudly. "I've been practicing."

The door creaked again.

This time, it was June.

She walked in carrying a paper bag and two plastic containers. The second she saw Marcus's face, she nearly dropped the food.

"Oh my God." She doubled over, laughing. "Oh my god….Marcus, what in the 1800s portrait painter is going on with your face?"

"I was attacked," he muttered, pointing dramatically at Alia. "By this tiny bully."

"Come here, you tragic mustache boy," June said, already fishing out a packet of wipes from her pocket like she'd been waiting for this day.

"Bro, I legit look like Goob from Meet the Robinsons!" He laughed.

She gently scrubbed his face clean while he sat there grumbling under his breath.

"You let a forth grader vandalize your pores. Next time, charge her for modeling fee." June laughed.

"That fourth grader is Alia," Marcus grumbled.

"Y'all are lucky I'm not charging you for emotional damages," he added, wiping the last bit off.

"Yay! Dinner time!" Alia sang, clapping her hands.

June set the food down on the corner table near the window. "It's not much," she said, brushing her hands. "I brought what we had at home. Nothing fancy, but it's warm."

I started the set the table.

Meatloaf. Mashed potatoes with just a little too much pepper. A side of mac and cheese, still gooey. And canned green beans that no one asked for but showed up like a relative who couldn't take a hint.

It was… perfect.

We all sat, cross-legged on the floor leaning against the wall. The lights were dim. Alia tucked herself between June and Marcus.

I looked over and saw the chip kid still standing near the window, chomping down as usual.

"Hey!" I called out, waving. "Come join us, Chip Guy."

He raised a brow from his corner. "It's not chip guy. It's Henry," he said, grinning as he walked over with his eternal snack bag.

He snorted, sitting down beside Alia. "Only 'cause your sister bribed me earlier with Oreos."

"Right. Henry. With the thick brows and the chip addiction," June teased, passing him a plate.

We all gathered around the small corner of the room where there was enough space to sit on the floor, backs against the wall.

We laughed.