Theo Palarie: Falling From Olympus (#Wattys2018)

6 Mezuzah

Tylin pulls into the library driveway, piloting aunt Jackie's silver Citroen. A tiny car which has earned its permanent keep by chauffeuring us and sometimes the drum kit for the past year or so. It looks like Herby and a smart phone had a lovechild, and this little humbug can speak in beeps and monotones through the dashboard.

I deposit my satchel into the back seat and enter shotgun, silencing the seatbelt warning that's bitching about my safety through the dash. Tylin though frowns at the stop sign, looking impatient but overall the same. Long, scruff reaching, surfer frizzled hair, brown eyes and his trademarked woollen cap —safety pinned with a collection of button badges. His style is very Shawn-White-esque, complimented by leather wrist bands that haven't hung loosely in while. He isn't the toughest of guys out there, but he should have strong arms from all the drumming.

He pulls out the driveway, turning his back on the way he came, and opts for a traffic-evasive drive through the suburban backstreets. It's barely quiet in the car. The sound of rubber, rolling over the kernelled rough of road, fading as Tylin refuses his designated listener role.

"This is the road that takes us behind the metro's road blocks, hey?" He asks.

"Sure. Taxi driver used it coming here. You should take a right before the gas station." I advise, feeling criminally helpful.

"So what have you been up to?" He asks. His question unable to separate his eyes from the rarely charted route.

Just as well. My answer is bound to be as anti climactic as his 'just got off from work' sentence, since all I've done is wake up maimed, count scratch marks on my neck, and investigate the truth about faeries when I'm not suffering at the intrusive hands which have puppet my mild case of insomnia. I want to keep him at arm's length about everything. Everything interesting by the looks of it.

"Studying." I say, instantly regretting the slump that could spoil our interaction. "I did book an interview for a job though. That's on Friday." I recover graciously.

"Now I wish my brother would do something like that. All he does is sleep in all day." He complains.

I narrow my eyes. "What are you on about? He has a job."

"Which he hasn't gone to in weeks. All Ashley does is stay in, sleeping. It's how I find him when I wake up and I bet we'll find him doing the same thing. And Theo, I don't know if you've been paying attention to the house lately but it's filthy." He vents, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

I guess we've all got our issues but Ash seems to be a master of avoidance. He latches onto the good-times when he finds them, then forgets to deal with his problems altogether. Meanwhile Tylin is at boiling point concerning the apartment's domestic situation.

"I'm the guy cleaning up after everyone." He isn't done. "I get home tired but I have to wash dishes and cook. The litter box stinks so I clean that out, then I feed Merlin's stupid cat just to have the thing perpetuate the cycle. I'm honestly sick of it. What's gon' happen after I get a place of my own?"

I scowl in worry. "You're moving out?"

His huff tells me he's already made up his mind on the matter. And I've learnt enough about Tylin to take him seriously whenever his tipping point -of namely cat shit- is mentioned. Him moving out is a necessary extreme down a course of action. Plus the edgy look he's wore on his face lately, suggests he might flee our Coo Coo's nest on a whim.

"Then what's gonna happen with Ash, when he clashes heads with Merlin? Me and Jackie can't referee those two. We'll give up and you will be called an accessory to murder for such negligence."