After a sorta maybe long/shortish hiatus, I am back.
...Not sure why I didn't submit this chapter earlier... It was done.
Oh weel!
Enjoy the tension (and sass?)!
August was meditating in his room when he was called down for dinner. Despite not being able to concentrate before, there was no strange urge to help Heather anymore. 'Probably because I am finally acting on it,' August grumbles. He heads down the stairs, finding the family at the kitchen table. A delicious dinner is set at the center. There are two empty spots left. He sits next to Noah, with one seat between him and Heather.
She doesn't look at him, but he can feel the animosity coming from her like a tsunami. 'Guess I don't have to be a Force wielder to understand that,' he muses, remembering one of Josh's favorite movies.
August looks at Heather, ready to greet her, but she looks at him without turning her head.
He instead turns to her grandmother, "This looks delicious."
"Hungry?" Noah chuckles.
August nods, "I only had snacks on the way here. …And stopped once for lunch." He starts to reach for the mash potatoes.
"August."
He looks up at Lucille across from him.
"We have yet to say grace."
August looks at her with mild confusion, but then he pieces together what she means. "Sorry. My family doesn't pray so-"
"It's quite alright," Lucille says, "but here we do. Noah?"
August watches the three bow their heads, though Heather didn't have to go far because she was staring at the table already. August follows their lead as Noah starts speaking.
"Dear Lord, bless this food unto our bodies, and bless that hands that made it. Amen."
Lucille repeats the amen. August looks up hesitantly as he hears clinking silverware. He then starts serving himself up. Lucille helps Heather with putting food on her plate, but she keeps it minimal. August remembers Heather barely eating back at the Tower.
"So, August, how early do you get up?" Noah asks, cutting into his food.
"Uhh… well," August says, pausing in getting a serving of corn, "school starts at nine, so I'd be up at maybe…" August doesn't bring up how he's not a morning person. "Seven?"
There are chuckles from the adults, "Son, you might want to get up sooner than that."
"Like when?" August asks, internally cringing.
"Mm… about five," Lucille says, but then chuckles when August makes a face.
"Don't listen to her," Noah says, "five forty-five to six at the earliest. Heather is the one that would get up before the sun."
"Oh?" August asks. He sees Heather pause in picking carrots off her plate.
"Oh yes, she loves to get up at the crack of dawn," Lucille adds.
"…I don't think I could do that. I'm used to long nights, not early mornings," August says.
"Then why are you here?" Heather asks. The moment August registers she's speaking, she has his full attention. "You don't belong, so what's the point of staying?"
August clears his throat. "You need a friend around."
"You are not my friend," Heather says, at the same volume as the first thing she said to him since he arrived. "...You know nothing about me."
August takes a mental breath. "Did you want some corn-?"
"I want you to leave," Heather answers. August puts the corn down, looking at her grandparents subtly. They look concerned. "Josh was my friend, but he isn't here. Why?"
"He has responsibilities back home. He wanted to, but he needs to finish school and there's the team-"
"Aren't you the leader?"
"He's the leader in my absence."
Heather scoffs, "You should just go home, August. That's where you belong."
"What makes you think that?" August says, turning to look at her properly, though she won't look at him.
Heather laughs wryly, "You're a city boy. Your friends said you'd be the last to leave New York."
"And yet I'm here."
"You'll regret it eventually. You made a rash decision without thinking-"
"I thought about it pretty thoroughly, actually," August says, raising his voice to match hers as she starts to sit up more.
"You're just a small time hero thinking he can be Captain America, but is just a scared bird with broken wings," Heather says, finally turning to look at him.
August swallows a pill in his throat, 'she's not the greatest people reader, but that wasn't too far.' He realizes she's staring, waiting for him to yell at her. "That may or may not be true," he says calmly, "but you need someone here that understands what you are going-"
"And that's you?" Heather scoffs. "You don't understand! You can't possibly understand! You weren't there!"
"Heather, that's enough," Lucille scolds, "be kind to our guest."
"Like you have much authority to tell me what I can feel!" Heather stops, staring at her grandma. August can tell she doesn't yell at her grandma much, if ever. Heather looks like she's going to apologize, but then she looks at her lap. She tries to push her chair back, one hand going to her wheelchair behind her. She looks at her grandfather for assistance.
"No Heather, stay for the rest of the meal," Noah says firmly. Heather then looks back at her lap. Silverware slowly starts clinking again. Heather grabs her fork after a minute, but only pushes her food around. First it's just swirls, but then she piles everything, only to smush it down again. She catches August watching her slow actions, so she glares at him, but doesn't start telling him off again. He looks away, focusing on clearing his plate, and a few questions that Noah asks him.
"You don't know me, Heather," August says, his quiet a generous contrast to her outburst.
Heather cross her arms, looking down passed the table's edge, "Let's keep it that way."
The adults share a look, then Noah turns to his granddaughter, "Are you going to eat anymore, Heather?"
"…No," Heather says.
"Then you may be excused. …Would you like help with-"
"Yes."
Noah gets up, helping her with the wheelchair. She then takes herself to her room, closing and locking the door behind her.
My baby boy is trying so hard, but my darling girl is not giving him an inch.
...
;)
I will try to get the next chapter up after Easter.
...Wow, this story used to be ahead of us (time wise), but now it needs to catch up. THEY AREN'T EVEN IN THE NEW YEAR YET!
And... I need to work on her origin story. Major revisions will be underway.
~CtW
P.S. Okay, writer question: how do you write thoughts?
I usually do so like this: 'I wonder why he's here,' Heather thought.
But I was told in a writing workshop that the correct way is like this: I wonder why he's here, Heather thought.
I'd like to hear your thoughts, because this is the first time I've ever been told that it was unclear how I write thoughts.