To Live Forever || p.maximoff

Arferol (Normal)

             "But it's the middle of summer! They can't expect me to go to summer school for missing freaking P.E!" Enid exclaimed, picking absentmindedly at her scrambled eggs. It was early in the morning. Way too early for waking up on summer break. "It sucks!" She added, stabbing her fork into her eggs.

               "Well, maybe you should have given them the doctor's notes, Enid," Katarina mumbled. She was sitting across from her younger sister, doing her college homework. It was awful. Between her older sister at online University and her mother taking care of her new baby boy, Enid was always coming second. She was sick of it. "And I doubt stabbing your eggs is going to solve your problems. If you're not going to eat, take your plate to the sink."

                 "You know I don't like talking to doctors," Enid replied. She got up from the kitchen table and put her plate in the sink. 

                  "Fine, it's your grade," Katarina said. "But you're still going to summer school."

                  Enid frowned, plopping down on the couch and bringing her knees to her chest. "No, I'm not."

                 Katarina's eyes narrowed. "I really don't need your attitude right now." Enid stuck her tongue out and blew her sister a raspberry. That was the breaking point. "God, you are such a child!" Katarina yelled, slamming her book closed and walking over to the couch. She was nearly a foot taller than Enid and towered over the couch like an ogre. "Get up." Katarina said. Enid didn't. "Get up!"

                 "NO!" Enid shouted.

                Katarina grabbed Enid by the arm and pulled her off the couch. "Go get your bags and leave right now. We both know that mother doesn't need you waking the baby."

                Enid scoffed, leaning down and grabbing her book-bag from the floor. "Fine," she said. "I know when I'm not wanted."

                With that, Enid opened the door and slammed it shut behind her. The baby started crying.

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                "Just because I left doesn't mean I have to go to damned summer school," Enid mumbled, kicking rocks across the sidewalk. It wasn't often that Katarina voiced her anger like that, but Enid could sense it in her sister like a beacon of death. Katarina hated her. She knew that. 

                 Enid continued down the sidewalk and started humming under her breath. It was a song she had heard on the radio recently. "I should be better off without yoo-oo-oo-ooo. You take a pride in making me blue--ooo-ooo-ooo. I'm telling you my friend--"

                 "It's got to be the end. We're through," a voice piped up behind her. Enid flipped around. Her heart was beating out of her chest. 

                  Seeing who it was, Enid let out a groan. "Damn you, Peter," she said, shoving him playfully. Her companion was a friend of hers, one of the first people who talked to her when she moved to D.C. with her family. He was odd, she gave him that, but he was nice to her. And had good taste in music. 

                  "Nice to see you, too," Peter grinned. "And what are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" He raised a quizzical brow.

                 Enid rolled her eyes. "My sister is forcing me to do summer school," she replied. "And, of all the subjects, it has to be P.E."

                 Peter got in front of her and started jogging backwards. "Well, lucky for you, I'm also doing summer school," he said, grinning widely.

                 "That's not a surprise." 

                 "Ouch," he sucked in a sharp breath. Then his eyes lit up. "Hey, wanna ditch school and play Pac Man at my house?"

                  Enid sighed. "I mean, my sister'd probably kill me," she said, then bit her lip. "But my sister will probably kill me anyways, so count me in!"

                  The two changed course to Peter's house, which was only a few blocks away from Enid's. In exactly two minutes, they reached the front gate (white picket, of course. This is suburbia.) and burst through it. Enid had visited Peter's house at least ten times in the past two months and spent most of that time losing at arcade games in his dungeon. But this time, Enid was hellbent on beating Peter's Pac Man record-- a whopping 333572, just shy of a perfect game. She got close last time, missing him by only a thousand points, but she knew she could do better. It only depended on how much Peter was going to distract her today.

                   "So, you ready to lose?" Peter taunted, plopping down on his couch and crossing his arms. He smirked.

                  "I know you are," Enid replied, settling in front of the PacMan machine and stretching out her fingers. Her knuckles cracked. "Mark my words, Peter. Today is the day I beat your stupid Pac Man score." He let out an amused hum. With that, she pressed 'start' and the machine came whizzing to life. 

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                  "Ha, only 2000 points," Peter teased, leaning against the machine. "You wanna let a pro show you how it's done?" 

                  "Hell no," Enid exclaimed, pushing him playfully. "You really think I'm gonna give up that easy?"

                  He raised an eyebrow. Enid scoffed and pushed 'start' again. Instead of being interrupted by Peter throwing twinkies at her, the front door slammed shut upstairs. "Dammit," she muttered, whacking the side of the box with her hand. 

                   "Peter?" A voice called. A woman then came walking down the stairs. It was Ms. Maximoff. She looked tired. "Oh, Enid! Nice to see you," she said, then turned to her son. "Aren't you supposed to be at summer school right now?"

                   "Er....it got out early?"

                   Ms. Maximoff sighed. "You're going tomorrow," she replied. "And you're picking Lorna up from day care." She was up the stairs before Peter could wriggle his way out of his 'punishment'. 

                   He rolled his eyes, then collapsed on the couch again and unwrapped another twinkie. "With all the twinkies you eat, it's a wonder you aren't fat," Enid said, plopping down next to him and stealing a twinkie from his stash. "I envy your metabolism." 

                   Peter hopped up from his seat and stood in front of the PacMan machine, pressing 'start'. "That's not the only thing you can envy," he smirked, his hands navigating the push-buttons and lever like it was second nature. Now it was Enid's turn to throw twinkies at him.

                   He still finished at nearly his top score. Enid sprung up from her seat, eyed the numbers flashing on the screen and Peter's smug expression, then exclaimed, "This thing must be rigged!", at which moment Enid felt her chest tighten.

                   Peter's smirk dropped. "Hey, Enid? You okay?" He asked, putting a hand to her forehead. She wasn't warm. 

                   "I'm probably fine," Enid said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. Her mind was telling herself otherwise. "This happens a lot. Only lasts a few seconds at most." As soon as the words left her lips, she felt her heart release. 

                   "You didn't look fine," Peter said, crossing his arms. 

                  "If I tell you I'm fine, I'm fine," Enid said. 

If only words were that powerful.