Leaning Into the Breeze

For the rest of the week Olivia stayed in her apartment, curled up in her bed. She hadn’t gotten out since waking up beside Nick. Every once and a while John would stick his head in to see if she was alright or wanted anything to eat. Usually she said no. If she did ask for some, Olivia would just pick at it, leaving is to get cold. She lay in her bed for weeks, letting the phone calls from Nick go to messages. John watched her grow more and more frail, not knowing what to do about it.

“Olivia?”

“Yea, Johnny?”
John walked over from Olivia’s doorway to her bed. He sat down on the edge of her bed, wearing nothing more then a pair of pajama pants.

“Olivia. Olivia. What the fuck is going on?” He muttered to himself as he stroked Olivia on the forehead. Olivia’s bottom lip only trembled slightly before a single tear allowed itself to fall on her porcelain cheek as she blinked. John looked Olivia over, who was now overflowing into a river of tears. Her hair was clean, but tangled, her skin was dry and white as a ghost. Olivia’s normally well-kept finger nails were chipped. She only wore a white V-neck shirt of John’s, which had been on her for the past week which now hung on her body, like a coat on a clothes hanger.

John pulled Olivia up into his chest, wrapping his arms around her. She lay limp, barely clinging onto his body, shaking with sobs.

“I-I-I. Johhny, I just don’t know what to do.” Olivia looked up into John’s eyes, her own glistening with salty tears.

“You need to get yourself away from here. Don’t take Ashleigh with you. Not me, not Nick. You need to get yourself together and find a space to think. That’s what you should to. What you need to do” John kissed her cheek before he stood up. He walked over to Olivia’s closet and pulled out her Tiffany & Co. luggage. John started pulling clothes out of her bureau and throwing them into her suitcase. He went into her washroom. When he emerged he was holding her toiletry bag; he tossed that in her luggage before opening her dresser and pitching in some underwear, socks and a few bras. He zipped up the suitcase.

“All packed. Now you, get that skinny ass out of bed.”

Olivia reflexively curled deeper into her sheets; not showing any signs that she sort of wanted to go on this mystery trip. John gave her a sympathetic look and scratched the back of his neck before yanking the sheets off and lifting her out of bed. Olivia stood there in John’s shirt, her arms wrapped around herself for warmth.

“Come on, kid. Get yourself dressed. I’m not doing that for you.” Olivia shyly smiled at John’s comment before whipping off her T-shirt and throwing on a clean tunic and a pair of grey jeans. She tied up her air into a messy bun, in her washroom, and brushed on some blush and mascara; she didn’t have enough energy to shower.

“Ready for the Oscars,” John commented from where he sat on Olivia’s bed. He picked up her suit case and the two walked out of her room.

Olivia took her suit case from John. “Where do I go?”

“Any where, babe. Just get yourself out of his hell-hole you’ve created for yourself.”

Olivia left her house, knowing exactly where she would go. Hailing a taxi, she gave the driver directions before plugging herself in to her iPhone, closing her eyes, and letting the melody of Third Eye Blind’s Motorcycle Drive Bye consume her until she reached the airport.

She walked purposefully to the counter, and purchased a one way ticket. Olivia took a seat next to a skinny looking guy in black tight fitting jeans. She didn’t really pay any attention to him, as she tried to keep her attention focused on the PA for when her flight was going to depart.

All planes now boarding. Olivia swiftly picked up her things, starting to walk towards the gate. Just as she did a hand grabbed her wrist. She looked down to see that it was the boy sitting beside her. She followed the arm holding onto her up to their face, her own taking on a look of shock as she realized whom it was.

He looked up at her, not saying a word. Olivia’s face changed from shock to a smile. He boy stood up and slid his hands into the back pockets of her now loose fitting jeans.

“I can’t leave you this time,” Olivia whispered, her lips parting slightly before pushing her body upwards to reach the beautiful face of the boy that stood in front of her.

He dipped his head, smiling a little, before pressing his warm lips on Olivia’s cold, chapped ones. Olivia was the first to pull away, “How did one night at NYRB lead to this?”

Jack shook his head in confusement. “So, uh, you want to get out of here?”

Olivia nodded and walked away, holding onto Jack, tossing her ticket to New York in the garbage.