Fox in the Family Restaurant

My parents think I'm some kind of culinary spy just because I actually watch cooking videos on TikTok. They act like I'm gathering intelligence against their beloved restaurant, when really I'm just trying to figure out why nobody our age wants to eat there anymore.

"Marcus, you gotta bear with us," my dad says, sweat already staining his apron as dinner rush kicks in. "It's a classic menu. People love comfort food."

I love them, but I want to scream. Their idea of updating the menu is adding avocado toast. Last week, I literally had spinach stuck in my braces while trying to eat their signature dish, and not even my crush Lana pretending not to notice could save me.

But here's the thing—my nickname in theater club is Fox because I'm always scheming, always plotting. So yeah, maybe I AM kinda like a spy. And maybe I've been sneaking samples to school, letting people taste-test my ideas. Maybe I've been posting about it on Finsta.

The bull-headed part is that my dad refuses to change ANYTHING. Meanwhile, the restaurant's Instagram has twelve followers. Three of them are my bots.

"Watch this," I whisper to Lana as I bring out my test dish—spicy miso ramen with actual fresh spinach, not the canned stuff my dad uses. The whole drama club tries it and they're literally obsessed. Someone even said it's straight fire, which is high praise from teenagers who will literally complain about everything.

My dad tries it and gets real quiet. Then he tries mine again, then his.

"Okay, Fox," he finally says, and I can tell he's trying not to smile. "Maybe you're not just spying on my techniques. Maybe you're actually onto something."

Small victories, right? At least now when Lana comes over, I won't have spinach in my braces. That's character development, honestly.