Chapter Text
-- Zeke --
"Ugh"
I hear the groan from downstairs right after the loud bang of the front door hitting the wall. I smile. The sound of the front door being slammed shut and his bag being tossed on the couch comes next.
I get up from my desk hair and tip toe to the top of the stairs. I call out Carters name. He usually hears me from upstairs, even if I'm at the desk in my room at the end of the hallway. But I get no response. Maybe he's wearing headphones.
The fridge door opens with the bottles clinking in the door. I can hear Carter mumbling rapidly with a heavy use of the word 'Fuck'.
I slowly make my way down the steps and watch him aggressively making a sandwich before tossing the knife he used into the sink. I cringe at the loud sound.
When he turns around he spots me standing at the foot of the stairs.
He doesn't say anything, doesn't smile or acknowledge my presence in any way other than a passive glance before walking past me to grab his bag from the couch, the sandwich in his hand.
"Hey", I say. It sounds more like a question than a greeting. Carter grunts in response, shoves the rest of the sandwich into his mouth before walking past me down the stairs to the gym.
I silently walk after him. He doesn't look like he changed or showered after hockey practice, so he's in workout clothes and his shirt and hair are slightly sweaty.
He hops on the treadmill and punches the buttons to get it to start.
"Everything okay?", I hover in the doorway, unsure what to do.
Another grunt.
"Did anything happen at practice?"
No response. I'm starting the get worried but I'm also starting to get a bit mad. I felt like he passed the stage of passive aggressive communication that leads nowhere. At least with me.
"Carter, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong", he grunts, already breathing a bit harder with the fast pace he set on the treadmill.
"Mh, well, I kinda feel like it is", I tell him.
"Well, you're wrong."
"Carter-", I start.
"Look, can you just drop it?", he looks up and almost sneers at me. If I didn't know him better I'd be intimidated by his tone and stare.
He punches a button on the treadmill and jumps off, yanking his duffle bag open to grab his water bottle.
"I know you're always wanting to talk about feelings and shit, but maybe you can leave me be this one time, just once", he says. I take a step back. That hurt. I don't know what to say.
"Just leave, okay? I want to be alone."
Carter doesn't look at me when I start to make my way back up the stairs without another word. I glance back at the last moment. He's back on the treadmill at a faster pace than before and keeping his head down.