love came calling, twice // olly murs

11.

"She's starting to scare me, guys," Jason said, his voice a hushed whisper as he glanced out the kitchen window. "She's like...dead."

Adam rolled his eyes, stirring the pasta he was preparing for dinner. He glanced out the window Jason was stationed at and looked past him. "You're being dramatic, Jase."

The dark haired man shook his head. "No man, she's like, she...yeah; she's dead. She just sits there and reads all those...books."

He was staring at Amelia's back, as she was seated on a bench in the backyard, a novel open in her lap. She had been sitting there for the past hour, her sweater pulled tight around her. Her face was pale and her hair was in a knot at the back of her head. He sighed.

A week had passed since the revelations in the kitchen, but it had only taken Jason half an hour to decide that Tom was an asshole, no questions asked. Jason hated being deceived, hated being left out of the loop. He hated liars, easy girls (where was the challenge?) and he hated cheaters. It didn't matter if you cheated at Monopoly or if you cheated on your wife, you were immediately in Jason's bad-books. Yes, he had several of them.

So yes, Jason did not like Tom. Yes, the guy was dead and yes he had loved him dearly as a friend for years, but that did not mean he had to like him. He had fucked up and had he been there, Jason would not have hesitated to tell him so to his face.

A part of him wished that he could.

Olly, however, was a different story. Within five minutes, Jason had been mad at him. What the fuck was his deal, keeping all this a secret? Didn't he care how it would affect this girl? He lamented that the last thing he wanted was Amelia hurt, and that was why he hadn't revealed the truth sooner. To his, Jason had called bullshit.

Then he had found Olly sitting outside Tom's old bedroom, nursing a bottle of beer.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jason said harshly, looking down at his life long friend. The man on the ground moved his head slightly before bringing the bottle of beer to mouth and taking a drink.

"Sitting here," he said simply and Jason furrowed his brow.

"You drunk?" he asked, nudging Olly with his foot. He shook his head.

"No," he said, "It would take a lot more than these to get me wasted. I'm a little tipsy though." He paused then, pressing his ear against the door and closing his eyes. "Did you hear that?"

Jason looked around, confused. "Did I hear what?"

Olly pressed his ear harder against the door. "That," he said, "she's crying."

Jason didn't say anything. Amelia had been crying for the last three hours, her sobs echoing through the halls as the sounds of objects smashing worked as her background music.

"Are you listening to her cry?" Jason asked, thoroughly confused and a little creeped out. He watched as Olly bit his lip, debating whether to say anything further or not.

"It hurts to hear her cry," Olly whispered, his words slightly slurred.

Jason suddenly felt bad for his friend. "Man, you should get some sleep. It's been a long day."

Olly shook his head again, resting his swollen cheek against the door. Amelia had struck him hard. "No," he closed his eyes, "I'm going to wait until she stops, then I'll make sure she's okay."

Pausing, Jason swallowed. "You don't think she'd try anything, do you?" His mind always went to the worse possible scenario before considering any rational thoughts. Amelia was in a really, really fragile state right now and coupled with all the termoil of the last few months, the notion that the sound of glass breaking could drive her to something more fatal made him cringe and feel weak in the knees.

"No," Olly said and Jason let out a sigh of relief. "I just wanna make sure she's okay, or...as okay as she can be."

Jason knew the conversation was over then and decided to go take his own advice and get some sleep. Upon entering his room, he realized something.

He was no longer mad at Olly.

Still, standing there and staring at the broken girl made him slightly bitter towards the man. Olly was currently seated in the living room, flipping through a graphic design magazine and making notes; book marking pages with an assortment of neon post-it notes. He hadn't seemed fazed by Amelia's odd behavior.

"She's freaking me out, dude," Jason said. "It's like when Tom died, he took her with him."

Adam put his with a loud thwack. "Let her be, Jason!" he said, once again feeling older than his twenty-seven years, stuck being the parent in a sea full of adults. Hadn't he been wild and crazy once, too? "She's grieving and going through a lot of bullshit, so stop trying to make more drama than there already is!"

"I'm not making drama!" Jason cried, annoyed at the implication. "I'm just hardcore concerned, okay? She's been doing everything she can to stay distracted! She's cooked us dinner like fourteen times, yet she just picks at her food. She's cleaning everything-I can see myself in the utensils! She's read every single book we having lying around the house, even all of Jeff's 'Watchmen' comics! She planted flowers!" Jason groaned, exasperated. He looked around for some support, but it didn't appear he was going to receive any. He glanced at Olly, who was scribbling something in his notebook.

Jason rolled his eyes and snatched it out from underneath Olly's pen. Olly frowned.

"Hey!" he said, grabbing for the notebook. "I'm working!"

"She planted flowers, Olly," Jason said pointedly, holding the notebook over his head. "Flowers. Our front and back gardens are now filled with red and yellow flowers."

Olly furrowed his brow, flipping a page of the magazine and marking something on one of the post-it notes. "They're nice flowers, man."

Jason nearly dropped his notebook. "Look, you should go out there and make her come inside and get her to...I don't know! She's been staying in your room, therefore..."

Olly dropped his pen and looked up at Jason, folding his arms. "Therefore what?"

"I don't know!" Jason said suddenly, dropping the notebook on the table. Olly dove for it, hitting his knee against the coffee-table in the process, sending the magazine and his portfolio flying to the ground.

"Shit," he cursed, glaring at Jason. "Look what you made me do."

"Damn," Jason said, bending down to pick up the items. "Sorry, man." He grabbed the magazine, wincing when he saw the crumpled, dog-eared pages before picking up the portfolio. Something caught his eye and he went to inspect it further before Olly snatched it away from his view.

"Hey, man, what was-"

"Don't worry about it," Olly said, quickly, zipping up the portfolio. Jason narrowed his eyes; he knew what he saw. But before he could open his mouth to inquire further, Jeff came down the stairs, holding his stomach and pouting.

"You guys," he said, staring down, "I'm fat."

Jason rolled his eyes as Jeff began lamenting about his inability to lose weight and how Amelia was preparing meals that would help him lose it more effectively. At that, Jason snapped his head over to bug Olly further, but saw that the man had gathered his belongings and was already at the top of the stairs.

But Jason was like an elephant and he never forgot, especially not when things were all lining up and starting to make sense.

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