Milo diligently watched the endless flow of donuts passing him by. His gloved hands were ready to right any abnormalities as the conveyor belt took them through icing, flipped them over, and then on toward the finishing station.

Clem’s Donuts was the region’s largest manufacturer and wholesaler of the sweet fried pastry, providing many of the city’s grocery stores with donuts made fresh daily. Milo worked as a “production associate.” Which meant he stood by for eight hours a day and made sure all the donuts made it from the fryers to packaging safely. It wasn’t the most exciting or impressive job, but it was full-time hours during weekdays, leaving his evenings flexible for his bartending job or spending time with family.

Finally, at six o’clock, the whistle blew, and the last of the donuts made their way down the line. The crew responsible for clean up and maintenance arrived, relieving Milo of his work for the day. He pulled off his blue latex gloves and threw them in a trash can on his way off the production floor.

In the employees’ room, the Friday night anticipation buzzed through the chatter of weekend plans. And with this Friday being payday, the checks automatically deposited in bank accounts, there seemed to be extra excitement in the air. Milo always felt apart from it. He was friendly but not particularly close with any of his co-workers, and they had stopped asking Milo about his plans when his answer had always been the same—he had to work. The money earned from bartending at Obsidian on the weekends was much too good to pass up.

Milo pulled off his hairnet and shoe covers, tossing them in the large bin where his co-workers were doing the same. Then he stripped out of his white coveralls with the company’s logo embroidered on the front above his name. The C for Clem was a ring donut with a bite taken from its side. Alice always thought it was cute and clever. She also thought that Milo had the coolest job in the world working at a donut factory, and his baby sister’s sweet admiration and approval meant more to him than she would know.

Metal hinges squeaked as Milo opened his locker. He pulled out his backpack, unzipped it, and placed his rolled up coveralls inside. Then he took his cardigan and jacket off the hook and put them on.

The factory had an older model time clock, and Milo found his time card on the giant wall rack. He lined up the spot on the card and pushed it into the machine. The time and date were stamped satisfyingly, and Milo put his card back on the rack in its designated spot.

The bus station was just a quick walk from the factory. Milo breathed in the crisp night air, and his exhale came out as fog. He would need to get Alice that new winter coat soon. Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he sat down on the bench to wait. There was just enough time to go home and check in with his family before he had to get ready and leave for work again.

With squealing breaks, the city bus pulled up to a stop in front of Milo. He got on and quickly found a seat. The factory was located on the outskirts of the city, and Milo watched out the window as lights became continuous blurs speeding by.

He got off the bus at the closest metro station, and from there, he switched rail lines once before the train dropped him off at his station. The whole commute took about forty minutes.

When Milo finally made it home, he took off his backpack, jacket, and shoes and slumped down on the couch next to Alice and Donovan. Raine had a shift at the restaurant that night.

One of Alice’s shows was on the TV, a sports anime she liked. And Don seemed to be watching just as intently. Milo smiled, and Alice leaned against him.

“Mmm, you always smell like sugar and vanilla after work,” she said.

“It’s because I’m just so sweet,” Milo said, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“Yeah, right,” Alice laughed, rolling her eyes. She went back to watching her anime.

“Hey, how was the science museum?” Milo asked. Alice’s eyes lit up, and Don groaned—he must have heard all the details already.

“It. Was. Awesome!” Alice sat up, giving Milo her full attention. “The submarine was ginormous. We couldn’t go in it, though. But they also had an airplane, a real Boeing 727. And we got to go inside that. And there was this maze. And a whole tornado too—they formed it with mist and air, they said it was an updraft.”

Milo remembered. He’d gone there on field trips, but their parents had taken them too. Alice would have been about six the last they went. Maybe she didn’t remember. Or maybe she didn’t want to remember. He was heartened to see she’d had so much fun, though. And it didn’t seem to be marred by painful thoughts.

Milo smiled at Alice and hoped it reached his eyes well enough. “Sounds like you had the best time.”

“Okay, okay,” Don said. “He can hear the rest later. We need to get him fed before he has to leave. There’s a plate for you in the microwave,” Don said.

Milo made himself get up from the couch, and as much as he wanted to stay and soak in Alice’s joy, he only had a half hour before he needed to head out again. “Thanks,” he said, going into the kitchen.

Donovan joined him as he opened the microwave to a plate of Hamburger Helper. He closed it again and started warming up his dinner.

Donovan sat at the table. “Hey, do you have some time before work at the club tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m free till seven-thirty. I was planning on being here with Alice. You’re working tomorrow, right?” Milo said, opening the utensil drawer for a fork.

“Job should be wrapped up by four. I needed to talk to you about something. And it also looks like you could use a trim.”

Milo touched his soft curls. It was true; it was getting a bit long, and Don was actually really good at cutting his hair. His gut clenched, though. What could Don need to talk with him about? Maybe he’d finally decided to move out, to live his own life, as Milo had encouraged him to do numerous times.

“I’ll be here,” Milo said, successfully keeping his voice from betraying his reeling emotions. The microwave beeped. Milo retrieved his food and sat across from Don.

“Great, and I’ll pick up pizzas on the way home. A friend from work has a brother who opened a new place by the campus, and he handed out gift cards for the crew.”

“We haven’t had pizza in forever, sounds good. Make sure there’s a plain cheese one.”

“—For Alice, I will,” Don said, smiling.

Don returned to watching TV with Alice, and Milo hurriedly ate, pushing his anxieties about what Don might have to say to the back of his mind. As much as he relied on Donovan’s help and support, he didn’t have to live in that tiny apartment with them. He didn’t have to contribute his hard-earned paycheck. He should be able to leave if he wanted to.

Milo paid the two bills from yesterday on his phone while he finished eating. Then he took his plate to the sink, noting with gratitude that the dishes had been done. He washed his plate and added it to the drying rack with the others. After drinking down a glass of water, Milo walked back through the living room to grab his bag. He left Alice and Don to their volleyball playing anime boys.

In his bedroom, Milo put his work coveralls in his hamper. Saturdays were his days to do laundry, and he’d have to remember to get his club outfit out to hide within his regular clothes. Looking at his phone as he put it on the charger, he had just enough time to shower off the smell of donuts before leaving.

The apartment’s one bathroom was tiny for the four people who shared it, but they made it work as best they could. Milo brushed his teeth, undressed, then got into the combination bathtub and shower. The bargain brands of shampoo and body wash did their best to eliminate the remnants of the donut factory, but Milo supposed there were worse things to smell like than sugar and vanilla, as Alice had noted.

Showers always seemed to stir the thoughts, so Milo did his best to steer them away from Mom’s worsening condition, his mess-up with the field trip money this morning, and the conversation Don wanted to have tomorrow. He focused instead on the simple task of getting clean and the full night of work ahead.

Milo turned off the shower spray before it had a chance to turn cold. He wrapped himself in his towel and headed to his room to finish getting ready. Friday nights were always packed at Obsidian, and there would be plenty to keep him sufficiently distracted.