Eric entered the apartment with a small smile on his lips, not wanting to concern his brother but he knew it was a second to late. The price boys knew how to sniff out one anothers problems in record time. He leaned casually against the counter, trying to think of a way to casually introduce the idea that he wasn’t going to be following the plan and coming to join his big brother’s. He shouldn’t bring up their mother, not with the bad blood between Charles and her but it was the dominant reasoning in his decision. “Ugh- you know how I told you I was starting to move stuff into my dorm room last week?” He asked, feeling suddenly much younger and smaller than he was. It was typically a feeling he reserved for the presence of his father, though it made sense that it reared it’s head in his anxious state now.
“Well I didn’t. I just didn’t want you to think-” He stumbled over his words before walking to the mini-fridge and pulling a beer just so he could have something to occupy his hands, immediately he begun to rip at the label. He wished he’d taken his medication today, it may’ve made it a little easier. Rather than beat about the bush any longer however, he stared at the wall just right of Charles face and blurted, “I’m not going.”
Following Eric into the kitchen, Charles leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for his brother to start speaking. When he brought up moving onto campur, Charles nodded, both in encouragement and agreement. “Yeah of course--about a month too late if you ask me, they would definitely have let you move in as early as you wanted to.” Their name could get them just about anything they wanted if they used it strategically enough. Was moving the cause of Eric’s agitation? “So what about it? You know if you need help, I can get some buddies of mine from the frat to help haul it all up the stairs.”
Despite his attempts to solve the problem, Charles knew he hadn’t yet gotten to the core of what was bothering Eric when his younger brother pulled a beer out of the fridge. Raising his eyebrows, Charles took a step further into the room. “Bringing out the big guns,” he half-joked. “Spit it out, kid.” It had to be related to their father, he was the only person who could make Eric--who could make any of them--so on edge. He was a second away from opening his mouth again when finally his brother confessed. He blinked a moment, caught off guard by the statement he wasn’t expecting before echoing him. “What do you mean you’re not going? To college?” he asked, bewildered.
