Wednesday evening Richie pulled his car to a stop at the curb and looked up
at Greg's house. He took a deep breath and got out. As he stepped on the
porch the buzz hit him; Greg was home. He knocked on the door and took a
few steps back. He heard the lock slowly turn.
"It's just me," he called.
The door opened. "I was hoping it was," Greg told him. "Why are you here?"
"Like you said, I'm banned from practice, and I can't work, I got all school stuff done, and we need to talk," Richie half-rambled. "Can I come in?"
"Of course," Greg stepped aside. "Have you eaten?"
"I'm not hungry." Richie followed him to the kitchen.
"This must be serious," Greg chuckled.
"It is," he scowled. "Stop cracking jokes."
"Okay, I'm sorry. Sit down, let's talk."
Richie sat at the table, got restless, got up and paced a little. "I've been thinking about this," he started. "Yesterday, I . I didn't give you a chance. I got upset and left. Surprise, I over reacted."
"No, you didn't."
"Just let me do this, huh?" Richie thought for a second. He took a deep breath and slowly blew it out while Greg patiently waited. "I've been thinking about this ."
"You said that."
"Dad!"
"Sorry."
"I've been- I just wanna know . I just wanna know that you tried. And why. Why when you saw me with Mac . why didn't you at least come say hi? Or something?" he rambled wondering if he was making any sense. "It's like you didn't even try. That it was all empty promises. Like you gave up."
Greg stood and put his hands on Richie's shoulders and bent down a little so they were eye to eye. "I looked for you Richie, I promise I did. Your records, they're confidential, nobody would tell me anything."
"But you were-"
"It didn't matter who I was. They wouldn't tell me. And when I saw you with . Mac . you looked so happy. You were laughing and goofin' off. I didn't want to take you away from that. For all I knew they were the foster parents you were put with right after you left."
"You didn't even ask. I would'a told you."
"You had found another immortal to take care of you," Greg told him. "That was my biggest worry; that something would happen and nobody would be there for you. I knew you would be okay."
"But . Dad, why couldn't it have been you?" Richie asked grimacing inwardly at the unintentional jab at Duncan.
"I thought you were readjusted. I thought that you were happy."
"You thought, Dad, you thought. You didn't know."
"I thought you had forgotten about me, Richie," Greg admitted quietly. "And if that was the case, I didn't want to hurt you again."
"Well, I thought you had forgotten about me," Richie countered. "I almost gave up. Then I decided to look for you. The only way I knew how."
"What do you mean?"
"I came here," Richie told him. "See, Mac and Tessa, the woman you saw me with, they kept bugging me about school. For a while my excuse was I didn't have the money. Then Mac said he'd pay, not like a loan, more like an investment, or something, I don't remember exactly. I kept sayin' no. Then after almost two years of waiting for you and telling them no, I realized Roberts had a mostly senior team. He needed freshman to fill the spots. I figured . if I could get in, just make the team, Mac would be thrilled and you, well, you follow Roberts. So if I made the team, you would know. And if you still cared, you'd come find me. And if you didn't, I still had everyone back home."
"Richie," Greg breathed. "I'm sorry; I don't what else to say. I messed up. I didn't think it through. I guess we know where you got that from," he laughed a little; Richie smiled. "All I can do is try to make it up to you. Let me be your father again. Let's just go back to the way things were. Like nothing ever happened."
"But stuff did happen," Richie told him quietly. "You might want to know some stuff before you decide you wanna be my dad again."
"Richie, what are you talking about?"
"Maybe we should sit down." Richie took a deep breath and told Greg everything. He told him about giving up on going to college, about getting arrested, sent to juvie for a year, breaking into Duncan's store, Tessa, everything. When he finished he looked down at the table and picked at an invisible piece of something.
"All that because of me?" Greg asked after a minute.
"You didn't force me to do it, nobody did, I just . did it," Richie admitted awkwardly still picking at the table.
"You did it because you gave up on me," Greg told him. "If I had just tried harder or came back to town to tell you what was going on. I mean, there are only so many Junior Highs in Seacouver I could have found like that."
"Dad, it's not you're fault," Richie insisted. "It's mine."
"If I had been there, you wouldn't have done it."
"But you weren't and I did. There's nothing we can do about it."
"You're right," Greg accepted. "Richie, Richie look at me." Richie slowly raised his eyes. "You messed up, I messed up; we both did. I'm not proud of what happened to you. And I'm not glad you did what you did, I thought I taught you better than that." Richie looked down again. Greg put his hand on his shoulder. "But it's partly if not all my fault ."
"Dad," Richie protested looking up again.
"Let me finish." He took a deep breath. "But if you can put it behind you and go on with what we had always planned, so can I."
Richie looked skeptical. "You can?"
"Of course I can, Rich. You're my son. Not legally, not biologically, but in every other way that counts. How could you think I couldn't?"
"I don't know. But, you can and that's all that matters to me. I'm sorry . I'm sorry I let you down like that."
"It's behind us, Rich. That's all there is to it." He reached over and hugged him; Richie gratefully returned it.
They sat and discussed what Richie was to do about his arm. Physically, he was perfectly okay; the cast was the only thing keeping him from playing. So, they decided to fake it. They found a specialist (an alias of Greg's) in Florida and one weekend Richie went for 'surgery'. He still had to miss out on the Big Twelve games (Somo didn't make it to the Final Four, OU beat them out), but he had the next three years. The benefit of the 'surgery' was the cast was taken off; all he had to wear was a removable brace that enabled him to take it off the play basketball at a private gym Greg belonged to and continue his weekly sparing matches with Miller.
Richie left his freshman year with a four point GPA, a steady girlfriend, the promise that Greg would be waiting for him next year when he returned to work on his law degree, and the overwhelming surge of relief that Alex O'Neal had graduated. He didn't take Greg up on his offer to move in for the summer; he went back to Washington to work at the dojo and help Joe out on weekends at the bar.
. . . . . .
"Hey, Rich!" Jordan, a regular at the dojo, greeted sticking his head in the office door. "When'd you get back?"
"Yesterday afternoon," Richie answered.
"Good to have you back, man. I don't think anyone realized how much you actually ran this place until you left."
"I realized," Richie grinned. "You guys just wouldn't listen to me."
Jordan laughed. "Well, we believe you now." He turned and left.
So went Richie's first day back at the dojo. People kept coming in to talk to him and he barely got any work done. He liked it though; it was nice for people to finally notice how much he did. Everyone might have considered him nothing more than a glorified towel boy before, but that had changed. How did the song go? 'Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone.'
"They paved paradise and put up a parking lot," Richie sang under his breath.
"What?" Duncan asked.
Richie looked up; he hadn't noticed Duncan come into the office he was so engrossed in the piles of paper work scattered around. "You know, Mac," he said with a grin. "It's sad that comparatively, I'm the organized one."
"Between you and me, I've always known that. I just can't seem to handle all this on my own anymore, I'm too used to having you around to do the stuff I didn't want to do," Duncan admitted returning the grin.
"Thanks, I think," Richie answered with a laugh.
"You know something? You're different," Duncan said gazing at Richie across the room.
"I am?" Richie asked quizzically. He knew he was different. John and Heather had mentioned it, too. Something about him changed when his dad came back. Richie left it at 'My dad's back, I'm happy' with them, but he hadn't told Duncan about Greg yet. Duncan didn't even know he existed.
"Yeah," Duncan frowned. "I don't know what it is, though."
"I'm just smarter," Richie teased. "Stronger, better looking ."
"No you're not."
"Hey!"
"It's your personality, your demeanor, there's something different about it."
Richie shrugged. "I don't know." Duncan tilted his head and stared at Richie. "What?"
"I don't know what it is," he complained.
"So give up already. I'm the same guy."
Duncan shook his head and grinned slightly. "I missed having you around, kid."
Richie blushed. "Well, I missed you, too. I missed being around."
"You up for a group dinner tonight?" Duncan asked.
"Sure, as long as you're buyin'," Richie answered with a grin.
"Of course, like you pay for anything anymore."
"You don't let me!" he protested.
"As it should be."
. . . . . . .
"Hey, barkeep, what does a guy have to do for a beer around here?" Richie barked slamming his fist down on the bar.
Joe turned around with a scowl that abruptly turned into a wide grin. "Turn twenty-one," he answered.
Richie cast a glance over his shoulder at Duncan who was talking to Adam. He leaned over the bar. "I'm close enough."
Joe mimicked his move. "When you're legal, come back." He put a bottle of coke on the bar.
Richie tried to look annoyed, but couldn't hide his grin. "Geeze, thanks a lot."
"Well, I don't know, maybe if you hadn't waited so long to come see me, I'd feel more generous," he shrugged.
"Sorry," Richie answered. "Mac had me kinda busy. The guy has no mind for business; I don't know how he ever survived without me."
"I've been hearing rumors about you." Joe changed the subject.
"Oh?" Richie twisted the top off the coke.
"Who's Greg Masters to you?"
Richie choked on his drink. Duncan turned at the sound of Richie's hacking cough. "You okay, Rich?"
Richie nodded and held up his hand. "Fine," he wheezed. Once he regained his ability to speak he looked up at Joe. "What do you know about him?"
"I know that you've been hanging out with him a lot. I just want to know why."
Richie looked at Joe calculatingly. "You already know why, don't you?"
"I was curious," he admitted. "What does Mac have to say about all this?" In response Richie looked nervously back over his shoulder. "You haven't told Mac," Joe observed.
"You're not going to are you?"
"Should I?"
"No," Richie insisted. "I will tell him, I just . have to figure out how. Give me some time."
"He needs to know, Richie."
"He will, I swear, just not now." As Richie finished his sentence his eyes dated toward the door. "Amanda," he told Joe.
"What you have caller ID, now?"
"I have a few tricks up my sleeve," Richie smirked.
"He saw her car," Duncan explained having over heard the last part of the conversation (to Richie's relief.)
"Richard," Amanda purred walking through the door. "I have something for you."
Richie quirked and eyebrow and looked at Mac. "Great, you're rubbing off on her."
"I'm not going to wait all day."
"Fine, fine," Richie relented walking towards her.
With quick speed Amanda grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to her planting a hard kiss on his lips. She held it for a few long seconds then let go. Richie stood staring at her in shock.
"Nice to see you, too," he managed quietly after a minute. Duncan, Adam, and Joe laughed at his reaction causing him to quickly regain his composure. "But I have a girlfriend," he added walking back to his discarded coke.
"Speaking of Heather," Amanda acknowledged. "When do we get to meet her?" Richie looked at her in slight annoyance. It was a constant question.
"What happened to dropping it?"
"I did," Amanda objected loftily. "You brought her up."
Richie's jaw dropped and Duncan turned to hide his grin; Amanda was crafty. "You mean you . just so I'd ." Richie stuttered. "You know what because of that, and you guys laughing," he added. "Not 'til next year."
"Aw, c'mon, Rich. We want to meet her," Duncan objected still grinning.
"Nope."
"Don't worry, Mac, I have connections," Joe put in.
Richie turned to Joe, back to Duncan, then towards the door. "Since my opinions don't seem to be appreciated around here, maybe I'll just go stay with her this summer," he said with a grin. "They did offer, you know."
"You're girlfriend's family offered to let you move in for the summer?" Adam asked.
"Yeah, you got a problem with that?"
"I do," Duncan interrupted.
"What?"
"You're down there nine moths out of the year for the next three years. You're staying here if I have to lock you in a closet."
"None of your closets have locks," Richie reminded him with a grin.
"The storeroom does," Joe suggested.
"Good idea," Duncan grinned mischievously and slowly walked toward Richie.
Richie backed away. "You were kidding, right?"
"You've said it before," Duncan grabbed him by his biceps. "I'm too serious for my own good." He started pushing Richie toward the storeroom.
"Mac!" Richie fought his grip, but wasn't doing much good.
"Don't worry, Rich," Joe called after him. "That's where I keep the beer!"
"Very funny!" Richie shot back as Adam opened the door for Duncan. "Mac!" He lifted his legs and braced himself against the door.
"Looks like you're trying to put a cat in a carrier," Adam chuckled holding the door ready to close it as soon as Richie was inside.
His comment did the trick Richie twisted to glare at him, with a grin Adam pushed Richie's foot off the doorframe giving Duncan the opportunity to push Richie into the small room. Richie never gained his footing and landed hard on his butt.
"See you at breakfast," Duncan chuckled as Adam closed the door.
"Hey!" Richie yelled as the door closed in his face. He heard the lock secure him inside. "Hey! C'mon!" he pounded the door with his fists. "This isn't funny!"
"Sure it is!" Adam yelled back.
"Lemme out!" The adults started laughing. "You guys!" Richie whined. "Joe! Amanda! Adam! Mac!"
Duncan grinned. "Here it comes, the patented Richie Ryan 'Maa-aac' whine."
"Daa-aad!"
Everything went silent. The adults stopped laughing and Richie stopped pounding.
"It's just me," he called.
The door opened. "I was hoping it was," Greg told him. "Why are you here?"
"Like you said, I'm banned from practice, and I can't work, I got all school stuff done, and we need to talk," Richie half-rambled. "Can I come in?"
"Of course," Greg stepped aside. "Have you eaten?"
"I'm not hungry." Richie followed him to the kitchen.
"This must be serious," Greg chuckled.
"It is," he scowled. "Stop cracking jokes."
"Okay, I'm sorry. Sit down, let's talk."
Richie sat at the table, got restless, got up and paced a little. "I've been thinking about this," he started. "Yesterday, I . I didn't give you a chance. I got upset and left. Surprise, I over reacted."
"No, you didn't."
"Just let me do this, huh?" Richie thought for a second. He took a deep breath and slowly blew it out while Greg patiently waited. "I've been thinking about this ."
"You said that."
"Dad!"
"Sorry."
"I've been- I just wanna know . I just wanna know that you tried. And why. Why when you saw me with Mac . why didn't you at least come say hi? Or something?" he rambled wondering if he was making any sense. "It's like you didn't even try. That it was all empty promises. Like you gave up."
Greg stood and put his hands on Richie's shoulders and bent down a little so they were eye to eye. "I looked for you Richie, I promise I did. Your records, they're confidential, nobody would tell me anything."
"But you were-"
"It didn't matter who I was. They wouldn't tell me. And when I saw you with . Mac . you looked so happy. You were laughing and goofin' off. I didn't want to take you away from that. For all I knew they were the foster parents you were put with right after you left."
"You didn't even ask. I would'a told you."
"You had found another immortal to take care of you," Greg told him. "That was my biggest worry; that something would happen and nobody would be there for you. I knew you would be okay."
"But . Dad, why couldn't it have been you?" Richie asked grimacing inwardly at the unintentional jab at Duncan.
"I thought you were readjusted. I thought that you were happy."
"You thought, Dad, you thought. You didn't know."
"I thought you had forgotten about me, Richie," Greg admitted quietly. "And if that was the case, I didn't want to hurt you again."
"Well, I thought you had forgotten about me," Richie countered. "I almost gave up. Then I decided to look for you. The only way I knew how."
"What do you mean?"
"I came here," Richie told him. "See, Mac and Tessa, the woman you saw me with, they kept bugging me about school. For a while my excuse was I didn't have the money. Then Mac said he'd pay, not like a loan, more like an investment, or something, I don't remember exactly. I kept sayin' no. Then after almost two years of waiting for you and telling them no, I realized Roberts had a mostly senior team. He needed freshman to fill the spots. I figured . if I could get in, just make the team, Mac would be thrilled and you, well, you follow Roberts. So if I made the team, you would know. And if you still cared, you'd come find me. And if you didn't, I still had everyone back home."
"Richie," Greg breathed. "I'm sorry; I don't what else to say. I messed up. I didn't think it through. I guess we know where you got that from," he laughed a little; Richie smiled. "All I can do is try to make it up to you. Let me be your father again. Let's just go back to the way things were. Like nothing ever happened."
"But stuff did happen," Richie told him quietly. "You might want to know some stuff before you decide you wanna be my dad again."
"Richie, what are you talking about?"
"Maybe we should sit down." Richie took a deep breath and told Greg everything. He told him about giving up on going to college, about getting arrested, sent to juvie for a year, breaking into Duncan's store, Tessa, everything. When he finished he looked down at the table and picked at an invisible piece of something.
"All that because of me?" Greg asked after a minute.
"You didn't force me to do it, nobody did, I just . did it," Richie admitted awkwardly still picking at the table.
"You did it because you gave up on me," Greg told him. "If I had just tried harder or came back to town to tell you what was going on. I mean, there are only so many Junior Highs in Seacouver I could have found like that."
"Dad, it's not you're fault," Richie insisted. "It's mine."
"If I had been there, you wouldn't have done it."
"But you weren't and I did. There's nothing we can do about it."
"You're right," Greg accepted. "Richie, Richie look at me." Richie slowly raised his eyes. "You messed up, I messed up; we both did. I'm not proud of what happened to you. And I'm not glad you did what you did, I thought I taught you better than that." Richie looked down again. Greg put his hand on his shoulder. "But it's partly if not all my fault ."
"Dad," Richie protested looking up again.
"Let me finish." He took a deep breath. "But if you can put it behind you and go on with what we had always planned, so can I."
Richie looked skeptical. "You can?"
"Of course I can, Rich. You're my son. Not legally, not biologically, but in every other way that counts. How could you think I couldn't?"
"I don't know. But, you can and that's all that matters to me. I'm sorry . I'm sorry I let you down like that."
"It's behind us, Rich. That's all there is to it." He reached over and hugged him; Richie gratefully returned it.
They sat and discussed what Richie was to do about his arm. Physically, he was perfectly okay; the cast was the only thing keeping him from playing. So, they decided to fake it. They found a specialist (an alias of Greg's) in Florida and one weekend Richie went for 'surgery'. He still had to miss out on the Big Twelve games (Somo didn't make it to the Final Four, OU beat them out), but he had the next three years. The benefit of the 'surgery' was the cast was taken off; all he had to wear was a removable brace that enabled him to take it off the play basketball at a private gym Greg belonged to and continue his weekly sparing matches with Miller.
Richie left his freshman year with a four point GPA, a steady girlfriend, the promise that Greg would be waiting for him next year when he returned to work on his law degree, and the overwhelming surge of relief that Alex O'Neal had graduated. He didn't take Greg up on his offer to move in for the summer; he went back to Washington to work at the dojo and help Joe out on weekends at the bar.
. . . . . .
"Hey, Rich!" Jordan, a regular at the dojo, greeted sticking his head in the office door. "When'd you get back?"
"Yesterday afternoon," Richie answered.
"Good to have you back, man. I don't think anyone realized how much you actually ran this place until you left."
"I realized," Richie grinned. "You guys just wouldn't listen to me."
Jordan laughed. "Well, we believe you now." He turned and left.
So went Richie's first day back at the dojo. People kept coming in to talk to him and he barely got any work done. He liked it though; it was nice for people to finally notice how much he did. Everyone might have considered him nothing more than a glorified towel boy before, but that had changed. How did the song go? 'Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone.'
"They paved paradise and put up a parking lot," Richie sang under his breath.
"What?" Duncan asked.
Richie looked up; he hadn't noticed Duncan come into the office he was so engrossed in the piles of paper work scattered around. "You know, Mac," he said with a grin. "It's sad that comparatively, I'm the organized one."
"Between you and me, I've always known that. I just can't seem to handle all this on my own anymore, I'm too used to having you around to do the stuff I didn't want to do," Duncan admitted returning the grin.
"Thanks, I think," Richie answered with a laugh.
"You know something? You're different," Duncan said gazing at Richie across the room.
"I am?" Richie asked quizzically. He knew he was different. John and Heather had mentioned it, too. Something about him changed when his dad came back. Richie left it at 'My dad's back, I'm happy' with them, but he hadn't told Duncan about Greg yet. Duncan didn't even know he existed.
"Yeah," Duncan frowned. "I don't know what it is, though."
"I'm just smarter," Richie teased. "Stronger, better looking ."
"No you're not."
"Hey!"
"It's your personality, your demeanor, there's something different about it."
Richie shrugged. "I don't know." Duncan tilted his head and stared at Richie. "What?"
"I don't know what it is," he complained.
"So give up already. I'm the same guy."
Duncan shook his head and grinned slightly. "I missed having you around, kid."
Richie blushed. "Well, I missed you, too. I missed being around."
"You up for a group dinner tonight?" Duncan asked.
"Sure, as long as you're buyin'," Richie answered with a grin.
"Of course, like you pay for anything anymore."
"You don't let me!" he protested.
"As it should be."
. . . . . . .
"Hey, barkeep, what does a guy have to do for a beer around here?" Richie barked slamming his fist down on the bar.
Joe turned around with a scowl that abruptly turned into a wide grin. "Turn twenty-one," he answered.
Richie cast a glance over his shoulder at Duncan who was talking to Adam. He leaned over the bar. "I'm close enough."
Joe mimicked his move. "When you're legal, come back." He put a bottle of coke on the bar.
Richie tried to look annoyed, but couldn't hide his grin. "Geeze, thanks a lot."
"Well, I don't know, maybe if you hadn't waited so long to come see me, I'd feel more generous," he shrugged.
"Sorry," Richie answered. "Mac had me kinda busy. The guy has no mind for business; I don't know how he ever survived without me."
"I've been hearing rumors about you." Joe changed the subject.
"Oh?" Richie twisted the top off the coke.
"Who's Greg Masters to you?"
Richie choked on his drink. Duncan turned at the sound of Richie's hacking cough. "You okay, Rich?"
Richie nodded and held up his hand. "Fine," he wheezed. Once he regained his ability to speak he looked up at Joe. "What do you know about him?"
"I know that you've been hanging out with him a lot. I just want to know why."
Richie looked at Joe calculatingly. "You already know why, don't you?"
"I was curious," he admitted. "What does Mac have to say about all this?" In response Richie looked nervously back over his shoulder. "You haven't told Mac," Joe observed.
"You're not going to are you?"
"Should I?"
"No," Richie insisted. "I will tell him, I just . have to figure out how. Give me some time."
"He needs to know, Richie."
"He will, I swear, just not now." As Richie finished his sentence his eyes dated toward the door. "Amanda," he told Joe.
"What you have caller ID, now?"
"I have a few tricks up my sleeve," Richie smirked.
"He saw her car," Duncan explained having over heard the last part of the conversation (to Richie's relief.)
"Richard," Amanda purred walking through the door. "I have something for you."
Richie quirked and eyebrow and looked at Mac. "Great, you're rubbing off on her."
"I'm not going to wait all day."
"Fine, fine," Richie relented walking towards her.
With quick speed Amanda grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to her planting a hard kiss on his lips. She held it for a few long seconds then let go. Richie stood staring at her in shock.
"Nice to see you, too," he managed quietly after a minute. Duncan, Adam, and Joe laughed at his reaction causing him to quickly regain his composure. "But I have a girlfriend," he added walking back to his discarded coke.
"Speaking of Heather," Amanda acknowledged. "When do we get to meet her?" Richie looked at her in slight annoyance. It was a constant question.
"What happened to dropping it?"
"I did," Amanda objected loftily. "You brought her up."
Richie's jaw dropped and Duncan turned to hide his grin; Amanda was crafty. "You mean you . just so I'd ." Richie stuttered. "You know what because of that, and you guys laughing," he added. "Not 'til next year."
"Aw, c'mon, Rich. We want to meet her," Duncan objected still grinning.
"Nope."
"Don't worry, Mac, I have connections," Joe put in.
Richie turned to Joe, back to Duncan, then towards the door. "Since my opinions don't seem to be appreciated around here, maybe I'll just go stay with her this summer," he said with a grin. "They did offer, you know."
"You're girlfriend's family offered to let you move in for the summer?" Adam asked.
"Yeah, you got a problem with that?"
"I do," Duncan interrupted.
"What?"
"You're down there nine moths out of the year for the next three years. You're staying here if I have to lock you in a closet."
"None of your closets have locks," Richie reminded him with a grin.
"The storeroom does," Joe suggested.
"Good idea," Duncan grinned mischievously and slowly walked toward Richie.
Richie backed away. "You were kidding, right?"
"You've said it before," Duncan grabbed him by his biceps. "I'm too serious for my own good." He started pushing Richie toward the storeroom.
"Mac!" Richie fought his grip, but wasn't doing much good.
"Don't worry, Rich," Joe called after him. "That's where I keep the beer!"
"Very funny!" Richie shot back as Adam opened the door for Duncan. "Mac!" He lifted his legs and braced himself against the door.
"Looks like you're trying to put a cat in a carrier," Adam chuckled holding the door ready to close it as soon as Richie was inside.
His comment did the trick Richie twisted to glare at him, with a grin Adam pushed Richie's foot off the doorframe giving Duncan the opportunity to push Richie into the small room. Richie never gained his footing and landed hard on his butt.
"See you at breakfast," Duncan chuckled as Adam closed the door.
"Hey!" Richie yelled as the door closed in his face. He heard the lock secure him inside. "Hey! C'mon!" he pounded the door with his fists. "This isn't funny!"
"Sure it is!" Adam yelled back.
"Lemme out!" The adults started laughing. "You guys!" Richie whined. "Joe! Amanda! Adam! Mac!"
Duncan grinned. "Here it comes, the patented Richie Ryan 'Maa-aac' whine."
"Daa-aad!"
Everything went silent. The adults stopped laughing and Richie stopped pounding.