head over heels

43 ~ keep up

The drive back home was an ominous one. 

They left the lake at noon. It was cloudy, and the air around them was cool. 

He'd had to drag himself away from Kei, wistfully staring as him and Oliver set off. He caught Kei shooting him a similar look back, which made him feel only marginally better.

Evan sat in the back as they drove, handing the front happily to Riley so her and Ethan could chat in the front. Willow had a book in her lap, so Evan just slapped his headphones on, and stared out the window, fighting the way his unease mounted.

He was dreading stepping foot in the door. God. Being away even for a day had made him realise all too much how the depressing atmosphere at home was getting to him.

Much to his surprise he'd actually enjoyed the weekend, like a lot. It had been a pocket of freedom from everything that had been desperately stressing him out.

Evan considered just dropping his bags off and making a break for Kei's house as he'd offered.

He didn't even know what to do. Should he try to mend his relationship with his Dad? Or should he just give up. He was leaning towards the latter, but really, he had another year at home where he'd have to put up with them, which made him feel more torn up about it than anything.

Maybe he could find some halfway between the two, just so he could get by without going fucking insane.

They dropped Riley off, then Willow, then he clambered into the front seat.

"Emma said Dad's still angry," Ethan said as soon as they were alone.

"Great," Evan sighed, feeling dread creep up his spine even further.

Ethan seemed to be trying to brainstorm ways to defuse the tension between them, but Evan wasn't really hearing it, his dread mounting.

"Maybe he'll forget about it if you keep laying low?" Ethan tried.

"Mhm."

"Or like, maybe once the season starts next week he'll come to his senses, especially with you playing again?"

"I don't know," he mumbled.

That one felt bitter even thinking about it. Evan had once thought that maybe his dad just liked the fact that Ethan played volleyball, since he'd been so enraged when Evan had quit. But now he was playing again, and well— everything was arguably worse.

"I hate this," Ethan uttered, voice tight with frustration, "He's always been bad, but recently it's just," he sighed, "It pisses me off."

Evan stared out the window. 

"Yeah," he uttered.

Ethan kept talking, but Evan wasn't really hearing it. 

It was becoming clear that Dad hated him, just because of everything he was, and not a single thing he did could change that.

It was depressingly simple.

They pulled into the house. He felt robotic as he picked up his bags, and followed Ethan into the door.

Immediately, Evan felt stifled by the hallway. It was like the walls were closing in on him. He grit his teeth. Dammit. He just had to get used to it again, that was it.

Ethan, as if testing the waters, paused in the hallway and peered into the living room.

Evan heard the TV going, he assumed their parents were there.

"Ethan, welcome back son," a gruff voice said.

Evan took two steps in and glanced at his Dad, who for half a second, caught his eye, and in it, he saw a flicker of disgust. He despised the genuine hurt that flickered in his chest. He turned quickly, heading for the stairs.