Unexpected arrival

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK

The sound echoed through the house — firm, deliberate. Conversation stopped mid-sentence. Forks paused in mid-air. All eyes turned toward the hallway, where the front door waited.

And just like that, everything paused.

“Are we expecting anyone?” asked Ethan

“Not that I know of. Who can it be?” replied Elise

“Probably Jehovah's witnesses” said Nick

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

“I’ll get it.” offered Blake jumping from his seat.

He went through the hallway and to the door, grabbed the handle and swung the door open.

There stood his sister, Claire, wearing a smug smile.

“Miss me?”

“Shut up!” said Blake as he hugged his sister.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at uni right now?” he asked not breaking the hug.

“I am, but not if that means my brother is going to be sulking for days after his loss.” teased Claire.

“Oh, come on! I wasn’t going to be sulking!” exclaimed Blake

“Oh, you sure were. I'm your sister, you can’t hide anything from me” she told him, “Alright, let me go greet everyone.”

Blake stepped aside, still grinning as Claire brushed past him into the hallway. The moment she turned the corner, Nick’s exaggerated gasp broke the silence.

“Is that the ghost of Claire Hartley?” he said, throwing his arms up like he’d seen an apparition.

Ethan’s eyes widened. “You actually came home? I thought you were glued to your dorm by now.”

Claire smirked. “Surprise,” she said, stepping into the warm glow of the dining room like she’d never left.

After the initial round of hugs and sarcastic jabs, Claire sat down at her usual spot, the table finally feeling complete.

As Elise disappeared into the kitchen to grab dessert, Claire leaned back in her chair, arms crossed with a playful grin. “So… the basement still standing, or did Nick finally lose a game so badly he burned it down?”

“Oh, ha-ha,” Nick muttered, rolling his eyes.

“You wish,” Blake said, standing up. “Come on, we’ll show you. It’s exactly how you remember it — maybe even better.”

Claire’s eyes lit up. “Perfect. I could use a rematch on that racing game.”

“Not before I destroy everyone at air hockey,” Nick added, already heading for the stairs.

“Dessert after!” Elise called from the kitchen.

“Dessert later,” Blake said over his shoulder. “This is more important.”

And with that, they descended into the basement, the air buzzing with nostalgia and friendly rivalry.

“I missed this,” Claire said with a happy sigh when they got down, “ so what’s it gonna be? Need for speed? Pool? Donkey Kong?”

“How about Mario Kart?” asked Ethan, already reaching for a controller.

Everyone agreed with a chorus of “yes” and “you’re on,” and they all settled onto the big sectional couch. Blake powered on the console and handed out controllers.

“Alright, everyone ready?” he asked, glancing around at the competitive smirks forming on each face.

The first race was tight — Ethan and Nick were neck and neck the whole way, trading red shells and banana peels until the last corner, where Ethan barely edged ahead with a lucky mushroom boost. Blake came in third, not far behind, and Claire fourth after an unfortunate encounter with a fake item box.

Race two flipped things around — Nick pulled off a flawless drift-heavy run on Rainbow Road, claiming first while Ethan landed second. Blake managed another third-place finish, while Claire was slowly finding her rhythm, notching fourth again but closer this time.

After two rounds, Ethan and Nick were tied for first, Blake trailed by just two points, and Claire sat one point behind him.

“Still got time to catch up,” Claire said, cracking her knuckles. In race three, the tension ramped up. It was anyone’s game until the final lap, when Ethan took the lead… only for Nick to sideswipe him with a well-timed bump on a sharp turn. The maneuver knocked Ethan just enough off-course for Nick to cross the finish line first — arms raised in mock victory.

“Are you kidding me?” Ethan groaned.

“That’s how the pros do it,” Nick said with a cocky grin

Blake finished third again, Claire just behind him. The updated standings showed Nick now ahead by five points, Ethan just behind, Blake in third, and Claire still within reach — two points off the lead.

The fourth and final race started off like the rest — chaotic. Items flew, shortcuts were gambled on, and then, just as Nick rounded the final lap in first place, the dreaded sound echoed through the room.

“Blue shell!” Claire shouted.

Everyone looked at the screen. Nick's character looked up in terror, and a second later, he was spinning mid-air as the blue shell detonated.

Ethan surged past him, followed by Blake and Claire. The final standings flashed on the screen:

1st: Ethan

2nd: Blake

3rd: Claire

4th: Nick

“No way,” Nick said, tossing his controller onto the couch in defeat. “Blue shell? Seriously?”

“Justice,” Ethan said, grinning. “That’s what you get for that dirty bump last race.”

Blake laughed. “Maybe next time, champ.

“Now, Blake,” said Claire as she turned to look at her younger brother, a playful glint in her eyes. “I believe I had to get **** in one game.”

“Oh, you want to play pool?” Blake raised an eyebrow. “You know you lost last time.”

“Not happening again,” she said, already standing and stretching like an athlete preparing for battle.

The others gathered around the pool table like spectators before a title match.

Blake broke, scattering the balls cleanly. He sank one, then two, before missing a tight corner shot. Claire stepped up without hesitation, and to nobody’s surprise she sank three in a row, barely blinking.

“Okay, okay,” Blake muttered, chalking his cue with exaggerated focus. “Game on.”

The match was tight. Blake pulled off a perfect bank shot. Claire answered with a delicate combo that cleared two stripes in one go. They were evenly matched, trading shots, smiles, and light jabs the whole way through.

By the end, it was down to one ball each — Blake on solids, Claire on stripes, and the eight ball waiting ominously in the middle.

Blake lined up his final shot. He took his time, aimed carefully… and missed by a hair.

Claire didn’t waste the opportunity. One clean shot, a perfect angle, and her stripe dropped. The room held its breath as she lined up the eight ball. She gave it one steady push — it rolled, kissed the corner pocket, and fell in with a satisfying clunk.

“Yes!” Claire threw her arms up in triumph.

Blake sighed dramatically. “Great. First Ethan beats me at Mario Kart, now this.”

“I told you,” Claire said with a grin, cue still in hand. “Not happening again.”