Stress Relief

Chit Chat

Call it intuition, or sixth sense, but the moment he walked through the door of his house after getting home from hanging out with his friends, he just knew his dad was about to call him.

"Chase!" He held back a groan.

Walking over to the pristine, upper-class kitchen, he tossed away his empty water bottle in favor for something with a little more flavor. As he tore open his fridge, he glanced around and frowned, wishing his mom had bought Canada Dry instead of the absurd about of Smartwater that filled half the middle shelf. He'd have to get his Ginger Ale fix from Diego later.

"Chase!"

"Coming!" He rolled his eyes, shutting the door before it could beep at him.

Walking out of the kitchen and through the living room, he went to a room in the back corner where his dad set up his office to be able to work from home when he was a child.

Now that he was eighteen, his dad was comfortable with him being by himself for long periods of time. Which usually meant he'd be out for pretty much the entire week, besides the weekend.

"What's up?" He asked once he entered his dad's office. It was sleek and put together. There was a lamp by the door and desks arraigned in a 'U' formation infront of the window, with his dad's computer monitor up against the wall on the left and his paperwork every where else, organized in neat piles, files put away in the drawers.

His dad stopped the scratching of his trimmed beard. He got his blonde hair from his dad, but his eyes from his mom while his dad's were brown. "How was school?"

He knew he was just asking so he could ease into questions about his grades, but he answered anyway. "Fine, we got introduced to our Coach's son today. He came with us to hang out." He was staring at the monitor, reading over his grades. English was okay, but he knew he was needing to work on the draft for his next paper. His College Readiness class was always good, the teacher was lenient with them and knew the seniors didn't give two shits and just wanted to get through their last year.

"And how'd that go?" Roman History was good, he liked that class. Environmental Science could be a little better.

"Fine." He said automatically, before his eyes landed on what his father wanted to talk about.

Calculus BC
55.8%

He cringed, looking at his father, whose head was already turned toward the overall grade and let out a sigh. "You need to get this one up." He pointed out, as if he hadn't already seen it. "Have you spoken to your teacher about making up your last quiz?"

His lips tightened as he frowned, recalling how he ended up caving at the last second and looking at his quiz before bolting to practice. "No, not yet."

"Well, you need to get this class up soon." His dad stressed. "The end of the first quarter is coming up, and I don't want your coach kicking you off the team."

"I know, dad."

"Talk to him tomorrow." His tone felt final, and so Chase sighed, and nodded.

"I will." Turning out of his dad's office, he crossed the living room once again and headed toward the direction of the stairs. There was a little corner right next to them that held a broom closet he avoided. He dragged his hand along the wooden ball that sat atop the start of the railing, a little fun habit he's developed since he was able to reach it, before letting his fingers slip away as he made his way up the stairs. Every step making his bag a pound heavier.