little blue suitcase ; e. dolan

7 : groceries

ethan grant dolan

✿ august 21st 2017 ✿

+ 3:29pm

my feet carry me slowly up the driveway after parking my car. my head is down as i watch my feet take me inside my house. i close the door behind me, my backpack hanging loosely on one side of my back.

"ethan, is that you?" i hear my dad from the kitchen table and i hum in response, walking in. i dump my backpack on a chair at the table and go to the fridge.

"how was school?" he asks as he flicks through a newspaper and i simply reply with a 'fine'. i reach for the jug of water and pour some into a glass that i grabbed. "how was it really?" i stay frozen after taking a sip, my eyes meeting his. i sigh, taking a seat next to him.

my mum wasn't here. my sister was nowhere to be found. i had this chance to be honest with him about something for once. had that chance the other week, but i froze. i was trying to not make it happen again.

"well, i guess fine isn't really the right word. i don't know, dad, it's not going all that well."

"how come you haven't spoken about this before?"

"i didn't want you to be disappointed in me. like the way mum is sometimes." he sets down his paper when i say that, propping his elbows on the table and rubbing his hands down his face.

"what's going on? have you slipped?"

"i-i can't concentrate. i have no one to motivate me like i used to." he knows what i'm talking about, so he simply sighs and nods.

"well, maybe we can bring in a tutor, or you could see a councillor. and i know you felt very strongly about that when your mother brought it up, but maybe it's what will help you."

"please, dad. no." just the idea of a councillor makes me shudder. i don't need some stranger telling me how i'm feeling.

"well we can't just do nothing, ethan-

"ethan, you're home early for once." my mother abruptly interrupts my father, swinging into the kitchen with grocery bags.

"it's normal time for school to finish." i say with a roll of my eyes. i glance over at my father who is saying nothing, his gaze downwards. he and i both see that the heart-to-heart with him is now over so i lift myself up to leave the table and go to my room but i feel my dad tug the sleeve of my long sleeve shirt, pulling me back into my seat.

"yes, but you're never home this quick after school." she starts emptying the bags and putting the produce in the fridge as i stay quiet. "an old friend called today, ethan."

"who? lola?" i obnoxiously scoff, my dad lightly hitting my arm for me to stop.

"no, elora. elora anderson. do you remember her from elementary school?"

i think back to that day at the lake when she saw me drunk. when i rudely dismissed her. guess i should have been nicer.

but what could i have done? she wanted to see him. what could i have said?

'oh yeah sure, he's at home now, let's go.'

or

'no, he died, sorry.'

"yes i remember her. what did she say?"

"well she's back in town now and she missed you guys very much. she wanted to visit."