Chapter Six: Homecoming
Craig quickly made off toward home, cutting through several backyards and finally arriving at his back door. He tried to be quiet as he pushed open the screen door and entered the kitchen. Unluckily for him, however, his father was sitting at the kitchen table. The room was dark, and Craig's heart was beating wildly. He tried to play it cool.
"Hi dad. Sorry I missed dinner . . . " he began, dropping his camera and bag by the door and reaching for the light switch. His father was quicker than that, though, and grabbed his sore wrist before he even came close.
"I work all day to put food on the table, Craig, and you just let it go to waste. Do you know how late you are?"
"Dad, you're hurting me." Craig spoke quietly, attempting to calm the growing rage of his father. He tried to pull away, but his father's grip only strengthened.
"Where were you?" he growled, pulling his son closer. Craig attempted to force his voice into light tones.
"I was catching up with Chloe. You remember Chloe Davidson? She's back from France . . . " Craig's father nodded. "She said she's been writing me. I haven't been getting any letters. Do you think Joey might not be forwarding them?"
"I thought I told you never to mention his name in this house. What are you accusing me of?" His father asked, and Craig could feel the danger in the question.
"Nothing! Nothing, dad, I wasn't accusing you of anything . . . " Craig attempted to change the path of the conversation but was failing miserably.
"If I did withhold any letters it was for your own good." His father spoke, shaking Craig by the wrist and causing pain to shoot up his arm. He felt the anger swell up in him.
"My own good? You mean you have Chloe's letters?" he finally ripped his arm away from his father's iron grip. "You had no right to do that!"
"I have every right. I'm your father. Do not speak to me in that tone, Craig."
He tried to move out of reach but his father grabbed him again. Gripping him by the back of the neck, Craig's father pulled him roughly upstairs and tossed him into his room. Craig landed on the ground in an untidy pile, making an awful crashing sound.
"Don't miss dinner again." He growled before slamming the door. Craig stood quickly and tried to open the door again. Even though the door locked from the inside, some moronic architect had designed all the doors in the death trap of a house to open out, so a chair lodged under the doorknob could prevent the door from opening. After a moment's struggle he gave up and collapsed back onto the bed, rubbing his wrist. He eventually fell into a fitful sleep.
"I can't believe you danced with him!" Manny cried, flopping down on Emma's bed, where Emma herself already lay. Emma pushed back a stuffed animal that had fallen on her head and sighed contentedly.
"I know, Manny. And he remembered me, too! I knew there had to be something good that would come out of having grade nines' at Degrassi!" Emma cooed, turning over to face her friend. "Not that it matters, I mean, I still like Sean."
"Yeah, of course. What about me, though? Couldn't you just picture us together?" Manny asked, eyes growing dreamy. Emma frowned quietly.
"You like him?" She asked, catching herself before she said more. Manny thought for a minute.
"Yeah, I guess I do. You don't mind, do you? I mean, I know you sort of like him and all, but like you just said, you still have Sean." Manny questioned, and Emma began to wonder. She knew she liked Sean. She always had. But the truth was, since she had seen Craig that morning she had noticed a growing sense of longing. It shouldn't have bothered her so much that her best friend liked him; she did deserve him after all. Finally quelling the waves of uneasiness in her heart she smiled.
"It's fine, Manny. You can like whoever you want. I do have Sean, and one man is more than enough for me." Emma replied, causing Manny to smile uncontrollably.
"Oh thank you Emma! You're the greatest friend ever!" Manny cried, wrapping her arms around her friend. Emma smiled weakly. Manny was right. She was the greatest friend. So why didn't she feel that way?
Craig quickly made off toward home, cutting through several backyards and finally arriving at his back door. He tried to be quiet as he pushed open the screen door and entered the kitchen. Unluckily for him, however, his father was sitting at the kitchen table. The room was dark, and Craig's heart was beating wildly. He tried to play it cool.
"Hi dad. Sorry I missed dinner . . . " he began, dropping his camera and bag by the door and reaching for the light switch. His father was quicker than that, though, and grabbed his sore wrist before he even came close.
"I work all day to put food on the table, Craig, and you just let it go to waste. Do you know how late you are?"
"Dad, you're hurting me." Craig spoke quietly, attempting to calm the growing rage of his father. He tried to pull away, but his father's grip only strengthened.
"Where were you?" he growled, pulling his son closer. Craig attempted to force his voice into light tones.
"I was catching up with Chloe. You remember Chloe Davidson? She's back from France . . . " Craig's father nodded. "She said she's been writing me. I haven't been getting any letters. Do you think Joey might not be forwarding them?"
"I thought I told you never to mention his name in this house. What are you accusing me of?" His father asked, and Craig could feel the danger in the question.
"Nothing! Nothing, dad, I wasn't accusing you of anything . . . " Craig attempted to change the path of the conversation but was failing miserably.
"If I did withhold any letters it was for your own good." His father spoke, shaking Craig by the wrist and causing pain to shoot up his arm. He felt the anger swell up in him.
"My own good? You mean you have Chloe's letters?" he finally ripped his arm away from his father's iron grip. "You had no right to do that!"
"I have every right. I'm your father. Do not speak to me in that tone, Craig."
He tried to move out of reach but his father grabbed him again. Gripping him by the back of the neck, Craig's father pulled him roughly upstairs and tossed him into his room. Craig landed on the ground in an untidy pile, making an awful crashing sound.
"Don't miss dinner again." He growled before slamming the door. Craig stood quickly and tried to open the door again. Even though the door locked from the inside, some moronic architect had designed all the doors in the death trap of a house to open out, so a chair lodged under the doorknob could prevent the door from opening. After a moment's struggle he gave up and collapsed back onto the bed, rubbing his wrist. He eventually fell into a fitful sleep.
"I can't believe you danced with him!" Manny cried, flopping down on Emma's bed, where Emma herself already lay. Emma pushed back a stuffed animal that had fallen on her head and sighed contentedly.
"I know, Manny. And he remembered me, too! I knew there had to be something good that would come out of having grade nines' at Degrassi!" Emma cooed, turning over to face her friend. "Not that it matters, I mean, I still like Sean."
"Yeah, of course. What about me, though? Couldn't you just picture us together?" Manny asked, eyes growing dreamy. Emma frowned quietly.
"You like him?" She asked, catching herself before she said more. Manny thought for a minute.
"Yeah, I guess I do. You don't mind, do you? I mean, I know you sort of like him and all, but like you just said, you still have Sean." Manny questioned, and Emma began to wonder. She knew she liked Sean. She always had. But the truth was, since she had seen Craig that morning she had noticed a growing sense of longing. It shouldn't have bothered her so much that her best friend liked him; she did deserve him after all. Finally quelling the waves of uneasiness in her heart she smiled.
"It's fine, Manny. You can like whoever you want. I do have Sean, and one man is more than enough for me." Emma replied, causing Manny to smile uncontrollably.
"Oh thank you Emma! You're the greatest friend ever!" Manny cried, wrapping her arms around her friend. Emma smiled weakly. Manny was right. She was the greatest friend. So why didn't she feel that way?