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Major remembered when breakfast was something to look forward to. Fresh-squeezed orange juice (no hot sauce), baked goods (without bits of brain in them), eggs, bacon, toast, avocado, fresh fruits … all the bright and savory and sweet flavors that were lost on him now, when his idea of breakfast was a toasted bagel with brain tube mush spread on it. Having Liv around had helped make food seem at least somewhat interesting, but the way Liv had looked at him after the execution, he didn't think she was ever going to speak to him again.
Glumly, he carried the plate with the brain-spread bagel on it to the table, half-listening to Ravi's side of a phone conversation.
"Oh, yeah. Swedish. Plenty of hot rocks. And have the peeler get in there—I want to be flayed alive." As Major sat down, Ravi said, "Thanks," and ended the call, putting his phone down. "Know what I'm doing tomorrow?" he asked Major, digging his fork into a plate of eggs and bacon that Major wished smelled to him as tasty as they looked.
"Taking a super weird trip to IKEA?"
"This week, in all of New Seattle, no one got murdered. So I'm off to the spa for a me day."
"Aw. A me day?" Major asked in a syrupy sweet voice. Must be nice for Ravi to be able to celebrate a week with no murders. Major wished Fillmore Graves could say the same.
"I choose to ignore your tone."
"No, no, it's cool. I'd come with, but I'll be subduing terrorists … or dodging Molotov cocktails, you know, stuff that men do."
"Please. I've seen your, uh, skincare collection," Ravi retorted, pouring hot sauce on his eggs.
Major watched as his roommate banged on the bottom of the bottle, trying to shake the last dregs out of it, and it occurred to him that it was the third time in this brief conversation that Ravi had added hot sauce to his breakfast. He shoved the plate with his brain-covered bagel on it across the table toward Ravi. "Have some of this."
Ravi took a bite, and Major watched the utter bliss and relief that came over his face as the brains hit his system. Yup.
"Oh, my god. That is fantastic. What is this, strawberry cream cheese?" Ravi asked, his mouth still full of Major's breakfast.
"Actually, it's pulverized human brains."
Ravi stopped licking his fingers, his eyes widening in horror. "Oh, god. My monthlies." He leaned across the table, shoving the top of his head into Major's field of vision. "Is there any white showing yet?"
"No. But you do seem emotional." Major grabbed his phone. "Hey, make that face you made when you realized you were eating brains? I want to send a pic to Liv and Peyton." They'd both get a kick out of it. Maybe Liv would even respond.
Instead of the horror-struck face, Ravi made a face like he'd just had a really good and really terrible idea. "Peyton," he muttered.
"What about her?"
"Oh. Uh, nothing. she just made me think of Peyton … Manning."
"Peyton Manning," Major echoed. "Who played what sport, exactly?"
"Water polo?"
"Right. Most famous U.S. women's water polo captain ever."
"Exactly. Sorry, mate, have to run." Ravi dashed from the kitchen, leaving his hot sauce covered eggs, which Major finished. Not as good as they would have been once upon a time, but once he added some of the brain paste scraped off the last of his bagel, not half bad. He hoped whatever Ravi was doing, he wasn't about to get himself in trouble.
Hours later, he had his answer, as Liv came in with a clearly not well Ravi draped over her shoulder. She settled him on the couch. Ravi was moaning, and Liv was singing along, and Major was totally confused about what had happened since breakfast.
"Man, you do need that spa," Major said, frowning in concern as his roommate doubled up in agony, shaking and crying out.
"Comfy?" Liv asked as she tucked a blanket up around Ravi's shoulders.
"No. I, uh …" Ravi tried to focus past her at Major. "I ate the brain of a heroin addict."
So much for hoping he wouldn't do anything stupid. "I better hide my China White." Major took a bite of his lettuce wrap.
Ravi's eyes widened immediately. "You got some?"
Major frowned at him.
"Bucket," Ravi said urgently to Liv. "Bucket bucket bucket bucket bucket." She hastily snatched up the trash can and put it down next to him. But Ravi moaned again and shook his head. "No. It passed."
"And you're doing this why?" Major asked.
"To help a friend in need."
"Ravi, she specifically said not to do this," Liv told him.
"She?" Oh. Of course. That's what he meant by "Peyton" at breakfast. Major had to hand it to his roommate—he was devoted to winning Peyton back. "Ah! This is an 'impress Peyton' thing." He looked at Liv. "Why did Peyton—?"
But she wasn't listening to him or looking at him. Or, it seemed, answering his questions. "Ravi! Have your roommate make sure you don't do anything dumb. In fact, give him your wallet."
Apparently seeing the sense in this order even in his current extremity, Ravi dug his wallet out of his pocket and tried to toss it across the room to Major. It landed weakly next to the couch instead, and Liv retrieved it, setting it down on the coffee table.
"This seems like a bad idea," Major observed.
"I'm fine," Ravi protested. "I'm better since I barfed."
Liv turned to go and Major frowned at her. "What, you're just going to leave him here?"
"Well, this is where he lives. Unless you and your sandwich have more important plans."
She was acting weird again, and Major decided not to ask what brain she was on in favor of the more important questions. "Well, where are you off to?"
"I'll be saving the world," she told him dramatically, and headed out the door.
He wished her good luck. The world could use saving. He just wished she had saved Ravi from doing this really stupid thing before she headed off to leap tall buildings with a single bound.
Major stuck it out with Ravi until it was nearly time for his shift at Fillmore Graves. There were no signs of improvement in his roommate's condition, so he did the only thing he could think of—he texted Peyton, using a long-standing SOS code he and she and Liv had worked out back in college.
She took a little longer to get to the house than he had expected, leaving him worried that he would have to leave for work with Ravi in this condition. Fillmore Graves was short-staffed enough that not going in was a dire emergency kind of thing, something that Major would rather save for something more drastic than his roommate pulling a hare-brained stunt to impress a girl.
He opened the door as Peyton knocked on it imperatively. "You're here, thank god."
"Yeah, I'm here, and I'm having a heart attack. An SOS text at two in the morning? What's going on?"
Major would have thought that would be obvious. "I've got work—and Ravi can't be alone."
Peyton frowned at him. "He can't?"
"He already got into the medicine cabinet. I had to pry a bottle of cough syrup away from him. He bit me, I think he stole my only other work uniform but won't tell me where he put it … he offered to 'pleasure me' for my car keys." Major laughed at the absurdity, trying not to think about how much it had sucked watching someone he loved go through that. "Yeah, I think he was kidding, but I'm only sixty percent sure."
"I'm … I'm lost. What's wrong with Ravi?"
"He ate some junkie's brain. Thought he did it for you."
"He did?" Peyton looked blank. So she hadn't known—Ravi had gone off half-cocked and hadn't even told her.
"Yeah. He did. And he's really suffering, the idiot, so … be nice to him. Try to get him to eat some brain paste. I offered, but he won't do it. Maybe he will for you."
"Okay." Peyton seemed to be getting the situation into her head now. "Okay, you go. I'll take care of this."
Major went, but he wished he felt more certain of her ability to take care of it.