“I don’t think it’s a good idea to let the kids spend any more time with Mikey.”
“Why?” Haley asked, unable to help but frown as she pushed her glasses back up.
“Because she’s a bad influence,” Jason bit out with a glare leveled across the large dining room table at the twelve-year-old girl in question.
“You’re still not going,” Mikey said, pausing mid-roll of the baseball between her hands to take a bite out of the grilled cheese sandwich that he’d made her.
“You have eight tickets,” he pointed out between clenched teeth.
“True,” Mikey murmured thoughtfully before pointing out, “but I asked for ham in my sandwich.”