3| your home

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THREE

It was odd driving in a car with Olive and having her not talk. Fletcher was used to her sitting next to him in the passenger's seat, describing the scenery and telling him facts about everything. They loved talking with each other-well Olive loved talking. Fletcher learned to listen and he did a wonderful job at listening to her rambles. But now that she had amnesia, her brain's infinite library of factoids disappeared. So the journey to the apartment, she was silent-not a word from Chyna or Fletcher as well.

When he pulled into the parking lot and he turned off the engine, it felt like he was turning of the car, yet turning on the start of being Olive's "caretaker." He unbuckled his seatbelt, then looked behind him.

"We're here," he said to Olive.

She leaned forward, peering out the window. "Where are we?" Her eyebrows were arched below her forehead. He noticed her voice was different. She sounded unsure and like a little kid. Fletcher took a much needed deep breath in attempt to contain his minor frustration.

"My apartment remember?" he replied.

Olive eyed the same stairs that she and Fletcher had used to bring up their belongings when they were moving in.

"What floor is it on?" Olive asked. "Cause I don't think I can walk up those stairs."

She pointed to them out the window. Fletcher took a look at the stairs himself, sighing. How ironic it was that she said she couldn't walk up them when she had done that earlier. He visioned her lugging boxes up the wooden steps like she was actually there, remembering how the day started.

When they got the call that the apartment they found out about four months ago around Fletcher's twenty first birthday was ready for them, the couple wasted no time moving in. Olive and Fletcher had been packing their  things gradually for weeks. They chose a Saturday morning because Fletcher wasn't working that day.

Everything from their clothes, dish-ware, electronics and personal belongings were packed in the back of Fletcher's car. On the way there, both were giddy and anxious to move their stuff in that instead of just talking like their normal car rides, Olive plugged in the aux, cranking up the volume on her phone. Blasting out of the car radio was Vampire Weekend's "White Sky"-Fletcher's favorite band and now Olive's.

They belted out the lyrics, glancing and smiling at each other every so often. When the part of the song came where it dropped into the vocal runs, Fletcher quickly glanced at Olive with a goofy grin, then just as the vocals were about to come, he faced the road and he started to mimic the singers voice, almost over exaggerated. Olive clutched her stomach as she titled back her head in a fit of laughs. Fletcher broke "character" and grinned. They laughed and sang songs the whole drive to the apartments.

Fletcher blinked away the memories as he got out of the car. He opened the car door by Olive's side waiting for her to finishing unbuckling. He reached is hand out for her to grab, but she didn't accept.

"Can I help you down?" he asked.

"Do I look like a kid to you or something?" Olive scoffed, pushing his hand away.

Chyna ran around from the other side of car to help Fletcher out. She gently pushed him aside. "We just thought you might wanted help since you fainted earlier and you injured your head," Chyna explained.

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