Stay Together For The Kids - blink-182

Chapter 7.

Olivia.

I woke up the next day with a soggy pillow and a note on my bedside locker.

“Dear Olivia,

I understand that yourself and Mark don't get along very well and I despise it. I know that you two fought last night and I know that it wasn't one of your usual small digs you occasionally make.

Due to this, I'm leaving for three weeks. I'm going to Florida with Katie's family, your friend Katie, that is.

I expect yourself and Mark to either kill each other in some creative way, maybe from the Hunger Games or you're full of creativity, or to be the best of friends by the time I'm back.

I'd prefer the latter.

I hope to come home to peace and not your petty fighting, you more than likely being the cause.

Don't forget I love you. I'll call every day and send you miserable photos of myself to show how much of a shitty time I'm having.

Love, mum.

P.S. Bye Oli I love you from Joe :) xoxoxoxoxo”

So they were abandoning me.

Just fucking great.

Mum was dropping her boyfriend on me.

I then realised; she had no idea what we fought about, she just knew how we fought.

I stood up and stretched.

I so needed to start working out again.

I pulled on basketball shorts and an old band shirt, not bothering to check which it was. I slung a jacket around my waist, pulled on socks and grabbed my iPod. I pulled my hair into a pony tail and wiped the make-up from around my eyes with my fingers until it was all gone.

I ventured downstairs to where I heard voices. More than one.

I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and walked into the living room where my best shoes for running were- comfortable Vans.

The owners of the voices looked up and I saw, yet again, Tom, Mark and Travis sitting around the table.

Tom let out a snigger and nudged Travis who let out a small laugh.

Mark ignored me and I was glad he did.

“Nice shirt,” Tom smirked.

I looked down at myself.

Oh, great. “blink-182” was written across it and a bunny was in the middle of it.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

Mark looked around and almost cracked a smile, but looked overly solemn and... Well... Old.

I tied my Vans and finished my apple as the room was in silence and exited the room, an empty cough following me.

I went to the kitchen again, threw out my apple core and began stretching.

I heard feet in the hallway and saw Tom closing the living room door and then the kitchen door as he walked in.

He looked sad. And confused.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked.

“You just did,” I said, stretching out my calves.

“Can I talk to you though?” He asked.

I walked out into the garden and he trailed behind me.