Mikey scrambled up from the couch. He knew they were talking and that they were talking about him, but he didn't care. They weren't heaping praise or affection, so it didn't matter.
He did, however, hear and respond to the announcement of food and he could smell the tuna. It was so wonderfully stinky.
"Milk please." He said, ignoring Evan. He had picked up the pleases from Niks. She said it often and it was starting to stick. Not that he said it with the same intention behind it, he was just copying somebody he fancied.
Mikey sat down in one of the chairs, drawing a knee up to his chest.