Jupiter Falls ✓

o11| tree like teen

Chapter 11 

Walking through my front door at 7 am, I could already smell the alcohol and weed. Damn, Hays was gonna freak.

The air's heavy weight downed on me like some metal block, as it pushed my shoulders to the ground like I was some god of Olympus to be left with wearing a weight equivalent of the earth because you know air is technically natural so technically it's the earth... 

I just hope whatever "friends" Ollie had over are gone because dealing with waved and baked teens is not my forte, I can only just about muster Ollie and all his six-foot-three-lankiness, imagine me with more of his younger kind—and having zero patience for them. I feel bad for them already and I haven't even met these so called"friends" anyway.

Walking into the living room, I can still see the circle-sized clock hanging on the wall and the TV still standing too. Feeling slightly relieved I look over at the sofas, no humans draped like stained blankets—thank the heavens, but then I nearly fall to my knees at the sight of dried vomit.

Dried vomit, I'm pretty sure the smell of it was contributing to the stench of the room. It could rival the rubbish collection truck for the smelliest thing on this earth right now.

I specially told that boy, no vomit!

My nose twitches away from the smell, my hand goes to cover it, my feet and I leave looking for one room in particular: Ollie's room; and he's going to feel my wrath and it won't be pretty, at all.

Before stepping into his room, I place my hand on the cream painted corridor wall. Thinking of all the energy and endurance I'd need to deal with this version of Ollie (due to last times experience); I took a deep breath in.

I push the door open, and I feel disgusted already, my face already scrunching in the same emotion. The room still seems to be dark, but that type of grey shadow coming from the closed curtain; dark. The bed in the middle of the room looked like it had a rough night too. The pillows on the floor at either side, the bed sheets spilling from the wooden bed frame and well the duvet covers looking more abused than dirty laundry.

Hoping that to let the bright sunshine in would equate to a loud, hard slap on the face I opened Ollie's curtains. With a look of devilish wonder, lopsided smirk and dark eyes, I looked back at Ollie's bed and it all fell as fast as the season two for "The Tomorrow People" fell to the shitty holes of "never happening".

That damned boy wants to sleep off his hangover, well he can fucking scrub away the remains of his night with a toothbrush on the sofa. It's nearly seven thirty and he's sleeping when he should be cleaning.

"Get up Ollie!" I shouted and I'm pretty sure that a few pigeons on the windowsill flew away at the loud sound as if I were some monster there to kill them, put a cocktail stick through them and roast them in the oven—as if! That's what Hays would do if she saw what I've seen this morning.

She's always been a neat freak.

He better be thanking me for going to see Hays' after work and basically be with her during her paperwork filled over time. If I hadn't I wouldn't know what time she'd be back and could possibly see all this mess and well lose her shit. Who knew there was charts and paperwork when you're a personal trainer huh, but yeah. I sat on her desk while she worked and we talked. It was nice to spend time like that with her, but that's not the point. The point is that she won't be back till some time after eight, but I'm gonna say eight just in case.