CHAPTER 357: DISASTER ZONE: POPULATION MICAH

The next morning, Micah dragged himself down the staircase, one hand gripping the railing while the other rubbed his eyes. His hair stuck up at odd angles, proof that he had been tossing around half the night. The faint smell of freshly made porridge and toasted bread drifted from the dining room, but even that wouldn’t lift his mood.

"Morning," he mumbled as he walked in, shoulders slouched. Without waiting for a reply, he slid into his chair at the long table.

The rest of the Ramsy family was already seated. The atmosphere was solemn, and with Micah’s subdued attitude, it only grew heavier.

Jacob felt the tense air becoming more unbearable with every passing second. He glanced at his son from across the table. He cleared his throat. "Micah, do you have time next week?"

Micah reached lazily for the butter knife, spreading a thin layer across his toast. He looked up with a puzzled glance. "Why?"

"Let’s go to Susu Island," Jacob suggested. "It has been too long since we went out as a family."

Micah paused in his chewing. "Dad, my mid-semester exams start then."

Jacob’s mood dropped. "Ah, I forgot..."

"But you all can go, no need to worry about me," Micah added absentmindedly, flicking crumbs from his fingers.

The sharp clang of a teaspoon striking porcelain cut him off. Everyone turned toward Elina. She sat perfectly upright, eyes narrowing as her spoon hit the saucer with a thud. "No need to worry?" she echoed, her tone razor-edged. "Are you suffering from memory loss too?"

Micah felt helpless. "Mum, I am not a child."

"Well, your behaviour doesn’t exactly back up your words."

"Fine then," Micah shot back, heat rising in his cheeks. "I’ll move out. I’ll show you I can take care of myself."

"Oh? You, living alone?" A disbelieving laugh escaped Elina as she leaned back in her chair. "The city council should declare your place a complete disaster zone!"

Micah winced at her mockery. "Dad! Help me!" He turned pleading eyes toward Jacob.

Jacob, caught between his wife’s glare and his son’s desperation, spoke again. "Honey, he survived two months in the dorm, didn’t he? With a daily housekeeper, I’m sure he can manage."

Elina’s gaze snapped toward him, sharp as a blade. "It was precisely because of that dorm that he stuffed himself with spicy, oily food until he got an ulcer! No. Absolutely not."

"Alright, alright, don’t get worked up. Micah won’t move out. With the dormitory rules relaxed, he will just come home every night, right?" Jacob said.

Micah’s nerves numbed. He stabbed his fork into his egg without enthusiasm. Great. Now, he was grounded on weekdays too. "Right," he agreed, sounding thoroughly disheartened.

Jacob gestured with his eyes to his daughters, hoping for them to break the ice between mother and son.

Willow set down her mug and asked. "Micah, what about going to the hot spring then? It’ll be just one night."

"Tonight? Didn’t you say I’ll go to that mixer?" Micah blurted out.

Elina’s eyes sharpened. "Do you have someone in mind for your brother?"

Willow smiled. "No, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt for him to meet his peers."

Micah popped a bite of egg into his mouth, chewing lazily as he marvelled at his sister’s smooth spin. She could twist anything into a perfect excuse. He wasn’t going to mingle; he was going on a mission.

"Are you going alone?" Elina’s interest piqued.

"Nah. Remember Emile? The guy from the Du Pont family? He is tagging along." Micah replied casually.

"Oh, good." Relief softened Elina’s features. "I was worried you would cause trouble there."

Micah, inwardly, rolled his eyes.

"Right, why don’t you bring Aria too?" Elina suggested suddenly, turning her attention toward her other daughter.

"Mum, I told you already. I am going to Mel’s graduation party," Aria said quickly.

"Too bad then." Elina sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "When can I ever hold my grandchildren? Willow’s marriage date is still up in the air. Aria always flees at the mention of dating. And you," she fixed Micah with a look sharp enough to cut steel. "If anyone could stand your temper, I would throw a party for seven days and nights."

"Mum! Why always pick on me?" Micah groaned. "For your information, your son is really popular!"

"Pff," Aria snorted. "Popular? Sure. Until you open your mouth. That’s when they all start screaming and running for their lives. Even your precious title of school flower couldn’t save you."

Micah grabbed a strawberry from the fruit bowl and hurled it at Aria. "That’s the pot calling the kettle black! You are no better!"

Aria grasped the strawberry mid-air with one hand, popped it into her mouth, and bit down with a smirk. "I like my freedom."

"Yeah, right," Micah scoffed, rolling his eyes. "My eyes went blind from rows of your suitors lining up!"

Aria leaned back smugly, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Anyway, I bet I’ll date sooner than you!"

"Deal!" Micah shot back, sitting straighter, a smug grin plastered on his face. "If I win, you’ll have to wear everything I pick and call me brother Micah every time, in the sweetest voice!"

Of course, he already had Clyde. Micah grinned foolishly. But showing up hand in hand to his family... nope, not yet. He wasn’t ready for that. Still, compared to Aria, he was miles ahead. Not to mention, he could easily delay the time Dean and Aria meet each other. His win was a sure thing. A devilish tail rose from the back of Micah, swinging left and right excitedly.

Aria’s lips twitched, but she didn’t back down. "Fine. If I win, you’ll carry my shopping bags for a year... without complaining!"

The brother and sister began an eye contest, full of energy, glaring in mock seriousness, neither willing to back down.

The rest of the Ramsy family let the bickering roll over them like background noise. Jacob sighed in relief and returned to his meal. Elina shook her head but hid a small smile behind her teacup. Willow nibbled her toast, watching with quiet amusement.

The solemn air lifted. The family’s troublemaker had managed to trap himself in a bet seeking a partner, completely forgetting the previous night’s fight.