Salty

Thirty-Two | The Green Pepper Strikes Back

Thirty-Two | Ollie

It had been years since I'd fallen asleep in my car. Wrapped in nothing but my coat, I made it to Mulligan's alleyway before dropping the seat back and giving in. A walk across the restaurant and up the flight of stairs was not manageable after the night I had. The change of scenery, unfortunately, did not stop a night terror. Watching my dad take his last step was enough to jolt me upright, with my chest colliding with the steering wheel. Just once, I wanted a time where I could climb the rafters fast enough without my hand landing on a wasp's nest. Many people assured me Dad died instantly, but they weren't there to see him struggle for air. The same noise could be heard from me every time I awoke from a nightmare.

I left little time to ready myself for a Monday and eventually opted to skip the shower and dress for a school day as fast as I could. I was out of the car and back in within a half-hour's time, putting myself back on schedule for the day. There was little surprise to see various missed calls flashing from the phone on the passenger seat. Kit, Mom, and Shelby all had voicemails waiting for me, and I knew they all revolved around Mikah and last night.

There was also a text from Sloan that resulted in a heavy intake of air and an exhale that made my lungs ache.

One swipe of my thumb, and a red delete option removed Sloan Smith's message. I'd stupidly broken my rules, and this was the punishment. Never the same girl twice. Never an employee. Never a student—that one was for sure coming back to bite me in the ass today. And last but definitely not least, never, under any circumstances, fall in love with another girl again.

I broke every single one.

With whatever Sloan had to say to me out of the way, I selected the only caller that mattered at the moment. My thumb selected my mom's number instead of listening to the voicemail she'd left. Kit's message wouldn't matter—it would be a warning that Penelope Mulligan knew what had happened last night. Shelby's messages were not my problem.

"Oliver Dean," she said, with disappointment already clear. I didn't need to see her to know she was shaking her head with my name.

"It needed to be done."

"He needed to learn that for himself!" she said, beginning her argument as I entered morning traffic. "His love life is not your business! Neither is hers!"

Even though there was always some sort of sibling rivalry between Mikah and me over the years, I always held that protective, older brother role close to me. Last night wasn't supposed to happen the way it did. Did Mikah need to know? Yes. But Mom was absolutely right; Mikah should have learned about Shelby's actual intentions for himself. How long was I supposed to let Mikah be led on for? Maybe Shelby loved him. Maybe she didn't.

"I don't know if you can fix this." She sighed. "He's so angry. I've never heard him like this."

"There was no fixing it before either," I reminded her. "Or have you forgotten that we aren't exactly the goddamn Brady Bunch? Mikah is a dick. Kit is a disaster. And I'm ..."

"You're what?" She intervened to make sure I finished the thought.

I swallowed hard, not wanting to complete the sentence. My hand gravitated towards the glove box, hoping there was still a pack of cigarettes waiting to dull my nerves. My mind was screaming the words 'not okay'. The search for a pack came up empty.

"I worry about all three of you. None of you have been the same since that year. I can't help you fix what's broken if you don't talk to me. And I know, better than anyone, you are broken, Oliver. We all broke, but something in you shut down in that barn. I worry about you the most."