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He smiles, but this time it doesn't look as polite

"What about your name?" my mom asks

He looks at his dad When Carl widens his eyes like he doesn’t have a clue, Ezra looks down at his plate "One of the weirder Bible names,” he murmurs

"I don't think it's weird," my mom says quickly

"Sounds like an angel,” I say “But the Old Testament kind, where you don’t know if they’re holy or a villain that’ll kill you with a death stare” I pin Ezra with my own smirk as he chews

"I think it's a beautiful name," my mom says

For the nextwhat feels like two hours, I try to keep my head down and clean most of my plate

"Look at you," my mother says at one point—and I can't tell from her tone if she means me or Ezra I don't look up

"You're as good an eater as Josh Would you like seconds?" I glance up at Ezra's plate, and am surprised to find it empty

"Josh can always go for seconds,” Mom says

"Sometimes thirds," Carl teases

"Goes back to middle school," I mutter

Sotea, so I had to bulk up

"He was already eating plenty, but he was all elbows and knees then So he started eating two or three plates each meal"

I look up to find Ezra's eyes on rew out of that"

What the fuck? Is he calling me fat?

"We can't all be built like coked-out rock stars"

Mom says my name as Carl says, "Well damn, son Not you, Ez" Carl's hand co jovial even though I hear the edge in his drawl "That's not very nice"

"I was just joking”

"Joshua thinks I look like a rock star?"

I refuse to look at Ezra, but I can fucking hear the smirk in his voice "More like a weird model"

"What's that mean?" Ezra’s voice is low and soft