"Ratonhnhaké:ton," said Ziio. "You ok?"
Connor huffed and continued to stare outside the window as they drove along. The doctor came back with the results and it wasn't good. Connor had a grade 3 sprain. That means he'll be on crutches for a couple of weeks. Upon hearing the information that he'll have to rest for a few weeks, Connor's mood turned sour. He wanted to play soccer. Soon, his ankle was wrapped and his prescription was filled. Then, Connor and Ziio left for home. Connor didn't respond to his mother's question.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton," said Ziio, giving Connor's shoulder a little shake.
"I don't want to talk," grumbled Connor.
Ziio sighed. She knew that when Connor was in a bad mood, he was in a bad mood. Trying to talk to him would only result in a screaming match and Ziio didn't want to deal with that. So they stayed silent throughout the whole ride home. Once Ziio pulled the car into the driveway, Connor reached in the back, grabbed the crutches, and walked up to the house. He had to wait for his mother to unlock the front door before he could go inside. He was going to go upstairs but his father's voice stopped him.
"Connor," Haytham called, coming out of the kitchen.
He stopped in the kitchen doorway, looking at Connor.
"How bad was the sprain?" Haytham asked in concern, rushing over to his son.
Connor didn't answer. He turned to go upstairs but Haytham stopped him by gently grabbing his arm.
"Connor..." Haytham started before Connor interrupted him.
"I don't want to talk," Connor snapped.
Haytham and Ziio frowned.
"Watch your tone," Ziio warned him.
Connor turned to her.
"I don't care Ista," Connor snapped again. "I really don't care."
"Mind your attitude, young man," Haytham warned.
"Like I said," said Connor, now shouting, "I don't care!"
"Ratonhnhaké:ton!" snapped Haytham.
"Just leave me alone!" Connor shouted. "I don't want to talk!"
Then, the teenager turned and went upstairs. Haytham was going to follow but Ziio stopped him.
"Leave him," said Ziio, sighing. "Let him calm down first."
"Ziio..." Haytham started.
"Leave him," Ziio repeated firmly.
Haytham sighed but nodded. "I didn't know what to make for supper," said Haytham, changing the subject, "so I just got out one of your cookbooks."
Ziio smiled and walked with Haytham into the kitchen to start dinner.