Forty-three

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"Yeah?" Michael, Dylan's older brother asked opening the door to the tall black haired boy "is Dylan home?" the boy shook his head in reply.
"He's out with his friend Ethan, I think" the shrugged before watching Jaxton turn away, a scowl on his face he mumbled to himself "I fucking told him, not to" but it was then he stopped. Ethan wouldn't have, he was best friends with the two- and Jaxton knew him well enough to know that if Ethan did tell Dylan, he would have told Jaxton- and if not he also knew that Dylan wasn't stupid enough to leave the house and let his brother tell Jaxton that he was in fact with Ethan at the moment in time,
So frankly, with said Jaxton came to his conclusion. Dylan was still home.
It was then that he, instead of walking out of the front gates, walked through the unlocked back gate. He clambered himself up onto the recycling bin- that was ever so conveniently put right next to Dylan's conservatory. Once stood upright on the bin lid he heaved himself up onto the conservatory roof, and went straight to the only window he could get to. This, however, was no sappy high school movie, as this room wasn't Dylan's. This room was Michael's.  

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