If you were gonna do something, stupid or no, you might as well commit to it. That included thieving ice cream, in Mike's view.
It was hard to be overly reverent about a place when you lived in it. Mike was still careful, but he did at least live in it like a home instead of like a museum he was allowed to sleep in now. Seeing the rest of his friends fling themselves around and spending a while in bed with his leg in a cast had helped too.
"If it's Bev's, then it was nice knowing you," he said. "You'll probably survive. You can give her the Bill eyes and say it was my fault. Just say something nice about me at the funeral."
He laughed. "I'd have said never. But here? No idea. Maybe there'll be one of those every month. We kind of have royalty in the family, right? Maybe you'll start having to make appearances. Are you heir to anything?" Mike teased. "I don't know. Maybe? If everybody's going, then probably, but I'd have to find something to wear too, and I don't really have any money yet. I was thinking about just searching all the closest here to see if there was anything to borrow if Eddie's manbun dad gave the okay." He paused and then asked, a little more carefully. "You're going with Stan, right?"