As Mark headed back upstairs from the bathroom, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Mom.
He answered immediately.
"Hello Mom, what's up?"
Mark climbed the stairs toward his room, away from the pounding music and shouting downstairs.
"Hello, Mark. How are you doing?"
His mother's voice came through the speaker. In the background he could hear papers shuffling and distant hospital announcements.
"I'm good. What about you?"
Mark sat on the edge of his bed.
"Busy, but managing."
She sighed softly.
"I'm calling because you won't have to cook tonight. I'm getting off work earlier than usual."
Mark's eyes widened.
His mom getting home early was about as rare as seeing a unicorn crossing the street.
"How early are we talking?" he asked. "Because I'm getting pretty hungry."
His mother laughed.
A genuine laugh.
The kind he hadn't heard much since moving to Brookhaven.
"I'll be there in about an hour and a half."
Mark could hear a zipper close as she packed her bag.
"And make sure the house is clean, okay?"
Mark glanced around his room.
Not terrible.
Downstairs, however...
A cold sweat formed.
"Yeah. No problem."
"Good. I'll see you soon."
"See you, Mom."
The call ended.
For exactly three seconds Mark sat frozen.
Then realization hit him.
"Oh no."
He launched himself off the bed and sprinted downstairs.
The moment he reached the living room, his soul nearly left his body.
Cups everywhere.
Pizza boxes.
Someone had somehow gotten chips stuck to the ceiling.
There was a guy asleep upside down on the couch.
Mark didn't even want to know how.
He climbed onto the coffee table and grabbed the speaker remote.
The music cut instantly.
The entire house groaned.
"What the hell?"
"Bro!"
"Put the music back on!"
Mark ignored them all.
"ALRIGHT EVERYONE!"
His voice echoed through the house.
The crowd slowly quieted.
"Party's over. Time for all of you to go home."
A chorus of complaints immediately followed.
"Aww come on!"
"It was just getting good!"
"One more hour!"
Mark crossed his arms.
"Good things end too."
He pointed toward the door.
"Now go."
Most people immediately started gathering their things.
Nobody wanted problems.
Well...
Almost nobody.
A familiar guy stepped forward.
The same idiot Mark had nearly tasered earlier.
He smirked.
"What if we refuse?"
The room went quiet.
Several people looked between him and Mark.
Mark opened his mouth.
Before he could respond—
Connor appeared from absolutely nowhere.
One second the guy was standing confidently.
The next second—
YANK.
The entire room heard the sound.
The guy's eyes widened.
His soul briefly exited his body.
Connor had somehow given him the most devastating atomic wedgie in recorded history.
The victim let out a scream that could probably be heard three neighborhoods away.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
The room exploded into laughter.
Several people collapsed onto furniture.
One girl dropped her drink.
Someone started recording.
Connor casually held up his own phone.
"Then you'll end up like this guy."
He pointed the camera directly at the victim.
"Now say hi to the stream."
The guy's face turned bright red.
His dignity had been publicly executed.
"I WON'T FORGET THIS, CONNOR PRICE!"
He pulled up his pants and ran out the front door at full speed.
Connor leaned over the banister.
"Wasn't expecting you to, SpongeBob boxers!"
The laughter somehow got louder.
Connor ended the stream and shoved his phone into his pocket.
Within minutes the remaining guests decided leaving was the safest option.
The house emptied surprisingly fast.
Mark released a long breath.
Crisis avoided.
Mostly.
Connor walked over.
"You good, bruh?"
"Yeah."
Mark smiled.
"Thanks for the assist."
Connor grinned.
"Anytime, Marky boy."
Mark nodded thoughtfully.
"That's great."
Connor immediately narrowed his eyes.
That tone sounded dangerous.
"What?"
Mark placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Since you're such a helpful friend..."
Connor's grin slowly disappeared.
"...I hope you're ready to help clean this place."
Silence.
Connor stared at him.
Mark stared back.
A battle of wills commenced.
Connor finally laughed.
"Well played."
He pointed at him.
"That was dirty."
"So you'll help?"
Connor sighed dramatically.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll help."
"We'll help too."
Mary's voice came from nearby.
Mark turned.
Mary stood there with several of her friends behind her.
One girl was already carrying a trash bag.
Another had somehow acquired cleaning supplies.
Mark nearly cried from relief.
"Thank God."
Mary rolled her eyes.
"Don't get emotional."
"Too late."
Mark grabbed a nearby broom.
"Then this should go pretty quickly."
The group split up immediately.
Connor collected cups while complaining the entire time.
Mary organized people like a military commander.
One of her friends vacuumed.
Another cleaned the kitchen.
For the first time all night, the house felt peaceful.
Mark swept the floor and smiled.
An hour ago this place looked like a disaster zone.
Now?
It almost looked normal.
Almost.
Then Connor walked into the room holding a slice of pizza he found behind a bookshelf.
"Dude."
Mark looked over.
"How old do you think this is?"
Mark stared.
Connor stared.
The pizza stared back.
Nobody touched it.
"Throw it away."
"Agreed."
And just like that, the cleanup continued.
---
It took them about an hour to finish cleaning.
An hour of sweeping.
An hour of moving furniture back where it belonged.
An hour of Connor somehow making every task take twice as long as necessary.
By the time they were done, everyone collapsed into the living room.
"Finally," Connor groaned dramatically. "I think I've earned a vacation."
"You spent half the time recording people cleaning," Mary replied.
"Content doesn't create itself."
Alicia rolled her eyes.
The girls gathered around the coffee table and eventually pulled out a board game.
Before long, everyone was arguing over rules and laughing at terrible dice rolls.
For a little while, it felt normal.
Then the front door opened.
Mark's mother stepped inside carrying her work bag.
She paused.
The living room was full of teenagers.
The board game.
The snacks.
The noise.
For a moment she simply blinked.
"Hey, Mom," Mary said, waving.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Their mother smiled as she stepped further inside.
"Did you decide to have a little get-together with your friends?"
"It was Sunday and I was bored."
Mary shrugged.
"Besides, we cleaned everything afterward."
"Everything?" their mother asked suspiciously.
Mark immediately looked away.
Connor suddenly found the ceiling fascinating.
The girls tried not to laugh.
Their mother narrowed her eyes.
"Should I ask?"
"No," everyone answered at once.
That answer told her everything she needed to know.
Chuckling to herself, she walked into the kitchen and placed her bag on the counter.
As she unpacked her things, her eyes drifted back toward the living room.
Almost immediately they landed on Connor.
The bright red hair made him impossible to miss.
"So who's the cute red-haired friend?"
Mary nearly dropped her game piece.
"Mom!"
"What?" she replied innocently.
"It ain't like that."
Mary folded her arms.
"Besides, he's Mark's friend."
That answer surprised her mother.
She poked her head around the corner.
"Wait."
Her eyes landed on Mark.
"Mark invited a friend over?"
Mark immediately regretted existing.
Connor, meanwhile, looked incredibly proud of himself.
"That's right, Mrs. Wilson. Mark and I are basically brothers."
"We've known each other for like a week," Mark replied.
"A week of friendship is still friendship."
Connor nodded wisely.
Nobody knew what that meant.
Their mother laughed.
"I never thought I'd see the day."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mark asked.
"It means you've always been a bit of a loner."
Mark couldn't even argue.
She wasn't wrong.
The conversation continued while she started preparing dinner.
The smell gradually filled the house.
Even Connor stopped talking once the food was ready.
Which was probably the biggest compliment a cook could receive.
Everyone gathered around the table.
Mark's mother got to know Mary's friends while Connor somehow managed to tell three different stories that became more ridiculous every time he spoke.
By the end of dinner everyone was laughing.
Eventually the evening came to an end.
One by one, the guests headed home.
Connor was the last to leave.
"See you tomorrow, Marky boy."
"See you."
Connor flashed a grin before disappearing through the front door.
The house became quiet again.
After helping clean the dishes, Mark headed upstairs.
His body still ached from the fights.
His ribs still hurt every time he moved.
But despite that, he felt better than he had in days.
He climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow would be another day at Silver High.
Another day of training.
Another day of surviving Brookhaven.
With that thought, Mark closed his eyes.
Sleep came quickly.
Unfortunately for him, chaos never slept.
And somewhere out in the city, trouble was already waiting for morning.
---