The Opposition

Chapter 10: Carter

I'm back at my house.

It's the weekend and I'm left with no homework, no training, and no extracurriculars to hold me over. There are organized events, but try explaining to my parents that those are a valid excuse for not coming home and working a shift at the diner. I feel as though I've barely arrived at Fairridge, and they already want me making trips to help out at a diner which, by the way, I want nothing to do with. But, alas, they've called in a family favour and I'm not so much of an asshole that I'd lie and say I have a club meeting and fifty page pile of homework when I don't. It's honestly a shock that I have nothing to do because honours classes are never light on out-of-class studies.

I've coerced Dimitri and Landon into coming with me. It's not like I don't have anyone to hangout with back in my home town, but I'd rather spend my time with Landon and Dimitri. Even though I had to sit through three hours of listening to Landon complain that he's missing his unorganized football practices and Dimitri saying the school paper isn't going to write itself. I told them that they'd survive.

After a frustratingly crowded train ride and a way-too-long bus ride, we arrive at my childhood home. I guess you can say that visiting home doesn't put me in the best mood. The beige-bricked house is underwhelming due to its simplicity. The doors are painted navy, the roof has a blue tint, and the front yard homes several bushes that are dull from the winter cold. Down the road, there are crowds of kids playing hockey in the middle of the street, and I can't say I didn't laugh when one of the pucks hit Landon right in the middle of his back.

I knock on the door, only to be greeted by the face of my little brother. Conner stands in front of us in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his brown hair ruffled and his brown eyes glistening with excitement. His smile is bright as he runs up and hugs me around the middle, stepping back to hug Dimitri and Landon, who he's met several times.

"I thought you weren't coming," he says, pulling me into the house and slamming the door as I begin kicking off my boots onto the patterned doormat.

"Why would you think that?" I ask, looking around the house as if I hadn't been here just a couple weeks ago.

You can see the dining room from the entrance; a large glass table with six fabric chairs surrounding it. A large chandelier hangs above the table, one of the light bulbs dimmer than the rest. I see the living room, as well, with the same old brown couch and flatscreen TV being the main focuses of the room.

"I don't know, I just overheard mom and dad talking about how they didn't know if you'd want to come."

Huh, gossiping about me mom and dad?

"Of course I'd want to come. Only to see you, though, buddy." I ruffle up his hair more than it already is to drive home my point.

"Did you miss me, CoCo?" Landon smirks down at Conner, who has yet to hit his growth spurt and hates that nickname.

Conner frowns up at him. "Not one bit."

Landon places a hand over his heart, "I'm truly hurt."

"You should be, " Conner says, and then he turns to me. "Come to the kitchen. Mom and dad made grilled cheese."

As promised, I walk into the kitchen to find mom flipping the sandwiches on a large non-stick pan. When she sees me, she throws her arms open to embrace me. I wrap my arms around her petite frame, wrinkling her pink blouse. She's placed her messy brown curls into a high bun and black eyeliner rims her light green eyes.

"Carter! How's are you? How's school?" She's always been more supportive of me than dad.

Mom greets Dimitri and Landon while I take over flipping the grilled cheeses. I'm turning down the flame when a hand clasps me firmly on the shoulder. It's a usual gesture for my father, not quite affectionate, but acknowledging. He's wearing a blue button up shirt with dark washed jeans. He's almost completely bald–having shaved off his blonde mop of hair–and wears a pair of wayfarer glasses on the bridge of his nose. The frames are thick, the lenses slightly smudged, obscuring the view of his dark eyes. There are lines on his forehead and around the corners of his mouth. He doesn't smile to deepen them.