Murder at Monroe High

Ollie

PART II 

OLLIE 

'Drewberry Academy of Arts. Where stars are born!'

I stare at the words, reading them over and over. My mind is split in two – one half is full of hopeless longing, imagining a life of possibility, of hope, of a future I might like. And the other half is telling me to get over myself and to know it will never happen.

Yet, still, I open the brochure and look at the pictures of smiling faces. I think about what my face would look like if I follow my parents dream of becoming a businessman. Not smiling that's for sure. Probably sagged. Wrinkled through stress. Prematurely grey. I shudder at the thought and glance at my brown hair in the mirror, just in case. I brush a hand through my locks and smirk. How can my parents think this face doesn't belong on TV?

There's a knock at the door and I shove the brochure underneath my school books. I look at the door and see my mother's head appear.

"I have to go to work, Ollie. Will you be okay by yourself?"

I nod. "When will you be home?"

"Not until the morning," she says, looking guilty. "Invite some friends over, if you want. Perhaps Ivy's free?"

I hold in a scoff. I have a feeling spending the night alone with me isn't Ivy's idea of fun. In fact, I've barely seen her alone in the past couple of months.

"Yeah, I'll see. Have a nice night."

Mom smiles. "You too, sweetie," she says, before leaving.

I slide the brochure back out to give it one last stare. I imagine myself on a stage somewhere, dressed in some ridiculous costume, crowd cheering for me. If only. The sound of the front door closing brings me back to reality.

I pull myself off the desk chair and down to the kitchen. Whenever my mom works nights, I make dinner for myself. Considering I am an awful cook, it's usually ramen or burnt toast.

I open the refridgerator when I hear a buzz. I look for the noise and see my mom's phone on the counter.

"Mom?" I call, receiving no surprise. She must have left her phone. Oh well, her loss. I grab the milk and am about to take the carton to my room when the phone buzzes again. And again. And again. I frown. Maybe I should look at the phone... in case it's... important...? Hell, I just want to know who's messaging my mom this much.

I pick up the phone and see a flurry of texts from the same number. Pete... Who the hell is Pete? I read through the texts and feel my skin turn cold.

'Here already. How long will be?"

'I'll get the bed warm ;)'.

'Hey, they have the same chocolates as the hotel in Vegas.'

'Man, what a trip.'

'Can't wait to have you in my arms again.'

'Here's a sneak preview to hurry you up ;)'

Then, there's a photo- oh my gosh. OH MY GOSH! I drop the phone on the counter. My eyes! I will never be able to recover from that. Why would he send my mom that?! Why is my mom going to meet him at the hotel? As if they are... well, as if they are in a relationship. Nah, that's crazy. My mom loves my dad, more than anything. She'd never jeopardise that. Right?

I grab the milk once more and bound up the stairs to get to my room. There is no way I am going to spend the night alone with my thoughts. I get out my own phone and message the group chat, inviting them round. I quickly receive five responses of 'hell yeah' and one of 'can I bring liam'. I scoff and type out a yes. I don't much like Liam, but I figure I'll have to get used to him.