Figuring You Out

Chapter Twenty- One

"Alright, I'd better go," Red smiles, we had given up maths about ten minutes ago and were talking. Just talking. It was nice, it felt natural and safe with him.

"Ok, I'll see you Monday," I say, letting him end the call with an agreement to revise together on Monday after school again. I sit back in my chair and my glance lands on the notebook I had been working on for the past hour, it was neat and, regretfully, it looked like Mr Fryday's whiteboard at the end of a particularly difficult maths lesson. I close it and move towards the bathroom to shower, when Dad calls, "What?"

"Don't just leave the washing like that," he scolds, I bite back a laugh and move downstairs.

"Sorry," I mumble, throwing the washing that was on the floor into a nearby basket, "I'm going for a shower,"

"Alright, night," he says, running the coffee machine again. I head upstairs and to the shower.

I squint at my phone light, as a text from Liam pops up on my screen, I grab it and turn down the brightness before reading his text; Thinking of a 5k run before the game, you in?

Sure, I reply, moving out of bed and to my wardrobe where I dress into a grey t shirt and sweats and jog downstairs to the kitchen where Dad is standing eating a bowl of granola.

"I'm off for a run with Liam," I say, snapping a banana off the hook.

"Ok," he replies, rather tiredly.

"How are the rewrites going?" I ask, popping opening the fridge to get the orange juice.

"Nearly done, now, yeah," he says, nodding. Somethings up.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing," he smiles far too brightly for a Sunday morning. I roll my eyes and finish the banana with a swig of orange juice. I scroll through my phone finding mine and Liam's joint running playlist, "Oliver, we are picking your mum up from Heathrow at twelve, ok? So, I want you back by eleven please," Dad says from his laptop yet again.

"Yes, Dad, you've said," I say, checking my wallet for money only to see a crumpled five-pound note. Then a twenty-pound note appears under my nose.

"Here," Dad smiles, I take it and slide it into my wallet, "Get something for you and Liam,"

"We're just going on a run," I say, chuckling a little, but taking the note swiftly.

"Well, coffee's expensive nowadays," he comments, dismissively. I thank him and head outside pushing on the playlist and jogging towards Liam's who's waiting outside his place.

"Normal route?" He asks, linking his song to mine so they play at the same time.

"Yeah," I agree, breaking into a strong jog to the Arctic Monkeys.

"Come on let's stop for some drinks," I suggest, stopping at a coffee shop named the Roasted Bean, it seemed posh but the twenty-pound note should get us a few waters.

"Fine, you're paying," Liam grumbles, running a hand through his dripping hair. I roll my eyes and push open the door which emits a short ringing sound, and approach the shelves that had the waters.

"Four pounds for a bottle of water!" Liam hisses, but picking two up in his hand anyway, "Posh place this, what?"

"Yeah," I laugh at his astonishment and hand over the note to the cashier with a slight nod.

"Don't look now, but book boys over there," Liam hisses to me, my breath catches in my throat as I realise who he was talking about- Red. I turn slowly as Liam faces the cashier, and I see him, sitting with a coffee and a book in his hands complete oblivious to the world wrapped up in a navy corduroy jumper. He reaches for his coffee and meets my eye; I give him a small wave which he returns with a smile before returning to his book.

"Come on, we have a game at two,"

"Which is in literally like," I check my phone, "Five hours,"

"Perfect time for gaming and pizza,"

"No can do, my mum is flying back from Paris, I have to go pick her up with my Dad," I say, collecting the change from the cashier. 

"After then?" he groans, knowing we hadn't had a proper games night in a while.

"Definitely," I confirm, shoving him in the shoulder as we walk along. We take the Tube back to his area and jump off before parting ways and I get home to shower and change before getting in the car with Dad to the airport.

"So," Dad breaks the silence as we stop at the red light, "How's school?"

"Six hours," I reply dryly, I side eye him and we both snigger a laugh, "Nah, it's good, the revision is helping,"

"I'm glad to hear it," he comments, nodding as the light turns green and he accelerates, "Me and your mum were going to watch the game today, that ok?"

"Yeah, been a long time since you've come to see me play," I say, twisting my turns.

"It hasn't been that long," he laughs off.

"Nearly a year," I mutter, he turns to me so suddenly we nearly crash.

"Shit, has it really been that long?" the guilt is clear in his voice and I instantly feel bad.

"Don't worry about it- "

"I'm sorry,"

"Yeah, it's fine," I dismiss, he looks over to me sceptically with a hurt expression, "It's fine," I insist, "You're coming today, aren't you? So, don't worry," I press on, firmer this time, now feeling that I was comforting him.

"Emily's coming over this weekend," Dad says, awkwardly trying and failing to change the subject, "It will be nice to see her,"

"Yeah," I sigh, as he leans out of the window to get the ticket for the car park. He pulls into a parking spot and we get out of the car in silence, get in the lift in silence, wait in the collection point in silence. It's only when I see a familiar black overthrow jacket and cropped brown- ginger hair do we start conversation again.

"Hello, darling," Dad gushes, like a teenager and pulls Mum in for a hug and kiss which I avert my eyes away from hastily, Mum turns to me and pulls me into an embrace.

"How's my Olly?" she squeals and puts me at arm's length taking a good look at me like she hadn't seen me in years.

"Your Olly's good," I reply, mockingly.

"He's ready for his game later," Dad smiles, taking Mum's suitcase in one hand.

"Aww good luck, Olly, me and David have a team meeting, I'm afraid, which is a complete pain in the- "

"Well," Dad interrupts, looking at me concerned like I'm about to go ape shit, "I was thinking me and you could go with him, watch him play,"

"I'm sorry, this meeting's really important; catching up the books and monitoring the sales since we have been away," she rambles on, Dad looks concerned and rather pissed off himself but focuses on lifting the suitcase over the ramp. He's struggling so I go over to help.

"I'll take it," I say quietly, grabbing the handle.

"I've got it," he assures.

"Of course, you have," I challenge, he laughs it off gently and lets me take the handle and lift it with ease over the ramp and to the car. Mum continues rambling about her time in Paris, to which I quickly plugged in my earphones and blast the Artic Moneys again from this morning. We arrive home halfway through their latest album, Dad beats me to Mum's suitcase but is visibly struggling again yet this time I leave him anxious to get to the game.