Kira pulled his feet in, shined shoes on the edge of the seat, sequined arms wrapped around his knees. "I don't have to name them, I can pull up every emergency each of you has texted me during. Please teach your friends conflict resolution that isn't daddy's credit card."

It wasn't a real complaint: as things fell apart, it was kind of nice to indulge the problems of others. To know he was winning on the outside, that anyone would still look at him and think he had advice.

Anything was probably better than requests for the week's lottery numbers.

"I'm not down," he said, easy and automatic. He took what was offered, holding it up to the LED strip along the heavily tinted window like a jeweler inspecting his wares. "I'm conserving enthusiasm for your incredibly well funded prom."