As of now, we are moving into third grade (FINALLY!) and this little guy is basically a wrap up of all that happened in second grade, and, if you're a title of the chapter reader, obviously the end of Mr. Knight. I feel relieved, and really sad...
"Hey, mommy, er, mom?" Kendall called, sitting at the kitchen table and scribbling a picture of the super-mega-awesome-amazing hockey stick he was going to make. He blushed at the "baby" term and made sure to correct himself quickly. His mother was busy doing dishes, her long pony tail bobbing as she scrubbed.
"Yes, honey?" she asked, turning to face him a little, but her hands never leaving the soapy water as she set to work on a particularly large and disgusting pot that had previously been filled with spaghetti sauce for the masses. It had been the Knight's turn to treat all of the boys and their families to dinner, and, despite her red hair, Mrs. Knight was fantastic when it came to cooking Italian. Kendall smushed his bangs up to the top of his head and out of his face, a habit he hadn't quite gotten out of, and frowned.
"When is daddy coming home?"
The pot clattered to the ground.
"!" James called, slamming his still tiny fist into the door as hard as he could, threatening to knock it down. In fact, all the effort he had been putting in was starting to make him sweat. And James did not like being sweaty. Scent was as important to his image as hair; even an first grader would know that. Carlos crossed his arms next to him, scowling a bit.
"Dude, that is not the way to break down a door," his little voice scratchy from yelling. They had been trying to get Kendall to come out of his room for an hour and a half. Logan was currently outside throwing rocks at his window. Judging by how sore James's hands were, he was figuring Logie's arm was getting really tired. Even Mrs. Knight was getting annoyed by their constant yelling and pounding, but she was desperate to get her son out of his bedroom.
"Yeah?" James asked with a huff, blowing his damp hair out of his eyes. "How do you think I should do it?" Carlos bit his lip and looked to his left for a minute before smiling and strapping his helmet to his head. Without any warning, he let out a battle cry and ran straight into Kendall's door, throwing himself at it with all his might. The hinges tore off the frame, and, jackpot, they were in! James rushed over and threw open Kendall's bedroom window. "Hey, Logan!" he called, dodging to avoid a rock, "It's cool! We're in! Come on up!"
Logan ran into the house and up the stairs. However, when he reached Kendall's room, he realized they hadn't made much progress. "Kendall, just come out!" Carlos begged a closed closet door. Light peeped out from the crack between it and the floor, and it didn't take a genius like himself to figure out the blonde was hiding in there.
"He's gone from his room to his closet," James confirmed, an old tiredness taking over his young eyes. "He won't come out, and Carlos is too dizzy to try to break down another door." Logan looked over to the wreckage in the hallway and nodded, rubbing his sore shoulder. He had wanted to play baseball in the Garcia's backyard on the first day of summer. Not this.
Logan walked over to the closet and stuck his fingers between the wooden slats of the door, trying to peer through. "Kendall?" Logan asked, his voice low and about as hoarse as Carlos's. The shuffling of hangers revealed a pair of green eyes staring back at him, and Logan took this as a response. "I lost my daddy, too." There was a sniffle.
"But mine picked to leave," Kendall said, his voice welcomed but his words sad. Logan frowned.
"And mine didn't," he answered, the sadness in his tone crippling. Kendall's face disappeared, and for a second, Logan thought he lost him. However, the turning of the doorknob proved him wrong, and he moved away. Kendall peeked out and James put on his best smile.
"Come on out, buddy," James goaded, his eyes softening at the sight of his friend's messy hair and not fully grown in yet front tooth. A few tears slipped down Kendall's cheek. Suddenly, Carlos had an arm wrapped around his shoulders, leading him out from underneath the dress pants and button up shirts.
"We missed you."
It's lacking my usual hurt/comfort part, but I feel like it doesn't need it. If you guys think you need some of it, then I'd be happy to make a part two!
For the record, some of the words in this might have been wrong-ish. That was intended to make them seem younger. Like usual.
