1. Ordinary
a. with no special or distinctive features; normal/ n. (the ordinary) a law person, a judge
phrases; out of the ordinary, unusual
The table Matt was sitting at was generally acknowledged to serve the multipurpose of being a dining table, lounge area, and study desk. Right now, unfortunately, it was the latter.
Two English textbooks and a dog-eared copy of Oliver Twist were sprawled amongst the empty coffee mugs and remnants of several days breakfast. There was even half a solitaire deck peeking out from underneath GCSE English Literature B. Matt was seated at the only clear spot on the table, one hand poised to write, the other barely holding up his head. "Crime in Oliver Twist." That was the title. What was he supposed to write? A list? For the fifth time in as many minutes, Matt reached out for his copy of the book and flicked absently through several pages. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, just a big glowing sign saying; "Essay answers this way."
That was probably too much to hope for.
Groaning in frustration, Matt tossed the book back down on the table and pushed his blank sheets of file paper to the side. It was surreal, really. Absurd. Not three weeks ago he was being held captive by a group of, honest to god, witches, was almost killed in a human sacrifice, and (to top it all off) found out he was one of five children who would be responsible for saving the Earth. And now here he was, with Richard, the Nexus, everyone, expecting him to just carry on with normal life; Go to school, do homework, make friends. Matt wanted to go back to a normal life, he did, but clearly that was something easier said than done.
How could a person switch from ultimate responsibility and power one day, to being normal, a nobody, the next? And what was the point of all these attempts at normalcy when everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the Nexus, or the next bunch of crazy guardians, came along to destroy his life again. Matt may not be able to wax poetical on "crime in Oliver Twist", but what about "Explore the significance of Oliver's lack of control, when compared with the succession of overpowering adult figures in his life (NB: Be sure to include incidences of kidnap, attempted sacrifice, and any mentions of the phrase; "Of course, it's your decision" or derivatives thereof)."
Homework left to fester for the moment, Matt got up and made his way over to the staircase that led up to his room. He grabbed a plastic container of leftover pasta from the fridge, along with a fork, on his way out of the kitchen. As he did, Matt glanced over at the wall clock.
9:17pm. Richard would surely be back soon.
Richard. That was another problem.
Almost a month and they hadn't heard anything from the Nexus. Honestly, if it wasn't for Richard, their shared experience, Matt probably would have started to think he had imagined the whole crazy adventure.
Matt liked Richard, he really did; Aside from his real parents, Matt's only experience of guardians stemmed from a childhood of Gwenda and Brian, followed by a brief stint with Jane Deverill (Although Matt wasn't sure that counted). It wasn't surprising that Richard seemed more like an older, slightly parental, brother in comparison. But that was the issue. Matt didn't know what he was: Richard would let him stay up as late as he liked, didn't tell him what to do, and never talked down to Matt as if he was anything less than responsible and perfectly capable of making his own decisions - Despite Matt's background. But at the same time as being a closet master on the playstation, Richard was also an adult, with a real job - no thanks to Matt - and a life that would undoubtedly be easier without a messed up teenager around the house. And that was without even getting into the world of the Five and the Old Ones.
Reaching his room, Matt flicked the television on and settled down with his makeshift dinner, absently sorting through the channels. For a few minutes the only sounds were the faint rumble of voices from the TV, and the scrape of a fork against plastic. The programme was unremarkable, a sitcom probably on its tenth rerun, based around a mother, father, and their two teenage children living in modern day London.
He should probably change the channel.
Matt shivered slightly in the cool air of the loft and rose to his feet to retrieve the duvet from his bed. Wrapping it around himself like a cocoon, something he didn't remember doing since his parents had died, Matt sat back down on the floor with his food.
Matt would happily have stayed with Richard at the Shambles, but it seemed to him only a matter of time before going back to the LEAF Project became the only option.
He didn't change the channel.
Richard Cole was tired.
It was a bone-weariness, a soreness of the eyes, that stuck with him throughout the day, and was there to greet him when he woke up in the morning. It was the sort of tiredness that stemmed from too many hours sat indoors, on a computer, or driving the commute to and from work.
Thank God it's the weekend, was Richard's first thought as he pushed open the front door and made his way inside the flat in The Shambles. It was just gone half past ten, not too bad for him. Usually the editor in Leeds kept Richard on for what seemed as long as possible at the end of the day.
"Matt. I'm back."
No reply.
Richard glanced at the kitchen table and saw Matt's schoolwork spread out amongst the mess. A knot inside his stomach relaxed.
There was always a small twinge of worry that Richard felt on arriving home: Would Matt still be there? Would something have happened again? But the mess of textbooks and pens, so normal, calmed any doubts he might have.
"Matt?" Richard called out again. No answer.
Frowning slightly, despite his tiredness, Richard slung his bag down by the front door and made for the stairs. Matt was clearly home, but maybe Richard should go and check on him - After all, that was what guardians were supposed to do, wasn't it?
If he was honest, Richard had no idea. He was only in his mid-twenties himself. He knew that by normal standards he was probably a terrible guardian - He was rarely back before seven in the evening, he constantly forgot to buy food; Hell, Matt had cooked his own dinner more times than Richard had managed to microwave something for the both of them.
But that's the thing, Richard supposed, These aren't normal circumstances and Matt certainly isn't a normal teenager.
Funny thing was, Richard wasn't really thinking about the powers, being one of the Five, although that was important too. But Matt had been through so much, experienced and seen things that would drive most people crazy with fear and nightmares. The kid just brushed it off. He was strong, and he kept his guard up, most of the time.
Passing his own floor and reaching Matt's room - a small, loft-like space that until recently had been filled to bursting with neglected boxes and piles of junk - Richard was surprised to find Matt, still in his Forrest Hill uniform and wrapped in a duvet, asleep on the floor in front of the TV. An empty tupperware box lay on its side nearby.
Richard found himself fighting back a small smile. He padded across the room to pick up the container. Matt didn't stir in the slightest. He finally looked his own age, his face relaxed and without the usual slight frown lines and downwards tilt of the mouth.
Like someone his age should look, thought Richard.
He seemed to use that phrase a lot since meeting Matt. "Someone his age" should be out messing about with friends. "Someone his age" should be worrying about girls and grades, about not getting detention, about the newest games console, about that one kid he didn't get on with at school. "Someone his age" should have a future that was made up of A-Levels, maybe even University, a life.
But Richard supposed it was too late to torment himself, and Matt, with those facts. Matt was the way he was. The kid wasn't unhappy, but he wasn't exactly happy either. He was dealing with it as well as would be expected of anyone.
Richard stepped lightly past Matt to switch off the television (now half an hour in to an episode of Deal or No Deal) before making his way out, pausing only to flick off the lights, and to glance back one last time at the sleeping form on the floor.
Maybe a 'proper' guardian would wake the teenager up and tell him to get changed and go to bed, but to hell with it. Richard wasn't a 'proper' gurdian. Heck, he probably wasn't even legally supposed to be looking after Matt at all. But he liked the kid, and planned or not, Richard couldn't, didn't want to, get rid of him now.
Richard headed down the stairs, tupperware in hand, and a reassuring sense of resolve in his mind. He'd never had much of a family, but he was starting to think he had an idea what it might be like.
*major spoilers for Oblivion mentioned*
I'm not sure what exactly this is, but after reading Oblivion it just sort of happened. Has it struck anyone else that Anthony Horowitz, he's great and all, but he really lacks in 3D characters, or even character development? I sat down to write as Matt, and realised that the way Matt speaks is the same way as Richard, Jamie, Scarlett, and even Salamanda (sorry, completely random choices here) speak, essentially. And there's no significant thoughts or tone within the narrative to give us anything else about the characters. And when Matt dies, I want a bit more than "Richard was upset." Give me some gesture, or just more than a sentence here or there and half a page of vague, generalized sadness.
All that being said, from the moment Matt read his own story, I was hooked. And of course, Anthony Horowitz is the one who earns a living writing books, so what do I know?
Love his plot lines, but some character depth couldn't hurt.
...
And to anyone who might have come here from "You Again?" or "Family Bonding"...uh, hi...about those updates? Well, I haven't abandoned the stories, I've just hit a creative rock, or a creative landslide perhaps... But trust me, haven't given up on them!