A Night on Fire (An Olli Herman Fanfiction) #Wattys2016

Chapter Eleven

A/N: You might be wondering when handsome devil Olli will be back in the story. Well, don't you worry because that'll happen soon! Hey! I have to make my readers miss him at least a little. ;)

August slowly crept forward, its summer heat dominated in my bedroom by the air conditioner. Weeks worth of dirty clothes littered my once-spotless, citron-colored carpet. Empty pop cans lied scattered on the dresser, and styrofoam ramen cups sat for days on my nightstand. Curled up underneath the sheets like a grub, I glued my baggy eyes to the TV across the bed from me. Family Guy, the only show that could crack a smile on my face when I wanted to cry, had been unsuccessful for weeks, though I kept trying by binge watching it. My fingers twirled the used tissue around in my right hand as Peter Griffin annoyed his family with "Surfin' Bird." All of a sudden, my door hurled open. Beverly stood in the doorway with eyes wondering about my room and her mouth dropped.

"Sasha!" she gasped. "What the hell?!"

"How did you get in?"

"I came to see how you were because I haven't heard from you in a few days, and we barely hang out anymore."

"But how did you get in?" I repeated.

"Your door was unlocked....But what the hell happened here?! Why are you in your pajamas at three in the afternoon?! Why are you camping in your bedroom?! Why haven't you been wanting to spend time with me?!"

I opened my mouth to respond, but I had no good reasons for any of her questions, so I shut it and looked at the tissue in my hand, completely ashamed.

She frowned. "You're depressed, aren't you?"

"I don't know," I whispered.

She sighed, walked toward me, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Listen, you need to get out and do something. You can't be lying around in a pigsty because that's not going to help you. Why are you depressed?"

"It's just..." I started to tear up again. "I miss Olli."

Beverly rolled her eyes and huffed in irritation. The falsies on her lash line could have her flutter away if she I got too annoying for her.

"You've been going on and on about Olli ever since you hooked up with him," she complained. "Things like this happen! You meet up, fuck, and move on! You'll find another guy later on!"

"Bev, I already tried that," I groaned.

"With who? Only one other guy? You can't give up on them all because two weren't for you! You know what? I'm contacting your sister." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened the Facebook app. "You need a little vacation to get your old self back. I'm seeing if she's available the weekend after next because you're going to visit her."

"I need to check in with my boss first."

"You can do that, but I doubt he'll say no."

Her golden acrylic fingernails tapped against the phone screen. I felt bad for ignoring my best friend. My state of mind hasn't been normal for a while. I felt like I lost myself. Is this what it is like to be depressed?

"Beverly, I'm sorry I haven't been spending time with you. My energy is down, and I haven't been at all happy. All I've been wanting to do is lie in bed all day. The only time I left my house during the past month was for work and grocery shopping."

"It's ok," she said, putting her phone away. "I just want my bestie back." She looked around my room and clicked her tongue. "This needs to be cleaned! Get up. I'll help you out."

********

Dragging my purple luggage behind me, my eyes swept the Los Angeles International Airport in search of my 31-year-old sister. A female voice boomed over the intercom above the chatty, busy crowd, updating travelers that flight 14 would be delayed by half an hour. Standing on my tiptoes, I tried to peer over people's heads without much help and blew air out in frustration. Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned around.

"Hey!" Carla squealed with her arms outstretched.

I hadn't visited my sister in about four years due to her being extremely occupied in chasing her career to be a plastic surgeon. I've seen her posts on social media and pictures she'd texted me, but I could hardly believe how different she looked compared to her appearance all those ages ago. Her hair was shorter—shoulder-length actually—straight, and jet black with edgy bangs. Her skin had bronzed, and she grew more skillful with her makeup, especially with her full, bright red lips and sharply winged eyeliner. I also noticed the gorgeous designer apparel she wore: an olive back crisscross midi dress that hugged her neck in a classy and elegant fashion and, on her feet, nude plump heels.

I embraced my sister tightly.

"Oh, I missed you so much!" she said and pulled back, grabbing one of my rolling suitcases to head to her car. "I'm sorry I've been such a stranger, but I'm going to make it up to you. What would you like to do this weekend? Treat's on me."

"Don't worry. I can pay for myself."

"Ha ha ha! No, I will not allow that!"

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, then. I'd like to get drinks with you later."

"Sounds good to me!"