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Milo looked at Zack in confusion.
“Did you really think that all my scars came from Murphy’s Law?”
Zack was even more confused now. “Yes? I mean, it would make sense.”
Milo sighed and sat back on the sofa, looking about as sad as Zack had ever seen him. But the look was gone in a second, replaced with a smile.
“Well, you see,” Milo began, “one thing that us Murphy’s are taught from an early age, is how we are perceived by others. How we are, at best, disliked.”
Zack had already begun to get a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew where this was going.
“It was extremely important to my dad that he explain how it works: Murphy’s Law, the probability ions, do not affect people’s morality or intentions. Murphy’s Law affects the probability of accidents. It is the fear of Murphy’s Law that causes people to lash out in anger.”
Zack remained silent. He simply continued to look at Milo with thinly veiled concern.
Milo laughed a bit, clearly forcing it. “So I’ve been injured by people a few times.”
Silence.
“I found out that getting stabbed isn’t so bad, it's kinda like getting punched in the stomach really hard,” he said with a big smile.
“You were stabbed? ”
“Yeah!” Milo said with his signature (fake) enthusiasm. He lifted his shirt to point at a rather large scar on his abdomen, very close to the bottom of his rib cage. “Only that one time though.”
Zack couldn’t take his eyes off that mark. He noticed one thing in particular: it was white, meaning it was old. It was one of those he’d been wanting to ask about; Milo was normally very happy to talk about his scars. That specific one had been on his mind recently, since the last time they went to the beach. Milo never had an issue being in public with his shirt off, and that one had caught his eye .
Zack looked back at Milo’s face. The boy hadn’t been able to mask his pain in time to hide it from Zack.
For the umpteenth time, Zack wondered how on earth Milo wasn't dead yet.
As if he had somehow read his mind, Milo spoke again. “Honestly, the reason most Murphy’s die is due to the malicious intentions of others.” The words came out of his mouth with ease, but Zack knew better.
Knowing Milo for 3 years now, he knew that Milo did, in fact, have fears. Specifically, he knew Milo would panic any time he was physically restrained. He’d always figured it stemmed from fear of not being able to react to Murphy’s Law in time. Now, he wasn’t sure.
“I, myself, was stabbed when I was six!”
Milo was holding a smile. Zack simply looked him dead in the eyes.
“That’s extremely fucked, dude.”
“I mean,” Milo backtracked, “you should see my dad! He’s got a ton more.”
“You get how that’s not better, right?”
Milo sighed, and finally let go of the smile, seemingly giving up on trying to put an abnormally positive spin on it.
“Like my dad says: Sticks and stones can damage your vital organs so always wear body armor.”
Zack knew now, those words hadn't been a joke.