One boy—Caspar, his name was—hadn’t even come over to join the Roci. Just to see Alex. The admiration in the boy’s face was impossible to miss. Watching them all together was like seeing an extended family that had come together for a wedding. Or a funeral. Alex hauled them all on a tour, showing them the Roci. He called it an orientation, but it was more like showing off a prized possession. Or no. Not that. A part of his life he’d only ever been able to tell stories about, and now could point to in the flesh.
