Pretty Bird

Welcome to The Jungle; The Sykes Dinner Table. Ian at the head, his wife Carol at the other end. I was sitting across from Tom, next to Oliver. Tom's girlfriend, Caroline, sat across from Oliver. Oliver's knee banged gently against mine every few minutes, snapping me out of my reverie long enough to respond to a question, or to smile shyly at Caroline, both of us feeling oddly similar. Instead of Tom hitting her knee under the table though, every few minutes he would scoot his chair in and out, jarring her back into reality. It was so obvious Tom and Oliver were brothers, besides their similar noses and skinny frames. Both of the boys had the same senses of humor, and both of them definitely loved their family.

Don't get me wrong, Ian and Carol loved me, and I loved them. But sometimes, it was just so incredibly overwhelming. Especially since I was involuntarily estranged from my parents, eating around a dinner table talking about old memories was something I really wasn't used to.

"You know Oliver here," Ian began, finishing the last of the green beans on his plate. "I remember Carol had bought him his first really nice coat for the winter time."

"It was really nice," Carol added. "Expensive, too. Tom was just born."

Oliver rolled his eyes and stared warily at each of his parents. "You guys tell this one to everyone."

"That's cause its funny, dear." Carol laughed, smiling her huge, contagious smile at me. "So, I had Thomas in my arms, trying to get him to take his nap, when I realized I had lost track of little Oliver."

I loved how Carol referred to him as 'Little Oliver', as if her tall, skinny rock star son covered in tattoos was once innocent and childish.

"And so with Thomas in my arms, I went out to the street, thinking Oliver was playing outside, where I did find him...playing in the street. You see, the pavers had just come to fix holes in the road that morning, and this little twit here ran out to them as soon as they were done, getting wet concrete and asphalt all on his brand new coat. I about fainted with Thomas right in my arms at that moment."

Ian laughed the hardest. "It took us about a week to finally wash all of the black pavement off of Oliver's hands."

I smiled, taking one of Oliver's hands in mine, turning to him. "Well, they seem fine now."

"Thanks to my mum scrubbing the life out of them." He said, turning to his mother and smiling. Tom was still silent, keeping Caroline in reality, even though his big blue eyes seemed to be somewhere else as well. Tom was normally shy around people he didn't know. But around us, he normally was a little bit more outgoing.

"And what about Tom?" I asked, his name catching his attention as he stared at me for a few seconds before turning to Carol, who was biting her lip gently, trying to remember.

"Thomas was always my angel baby." She smiled, taking his hand in hers. She squeezed it gently before turning her attention back to us.

"That's bollocks!" Oliver exclaimed, "What about the time he punched his teacher!? What was her name again?" His eyes were bright, now turning to Tom, who was starting to turn a light shade of pink.

"Ms. Hanley." He whispered, Caroline smiling weakly at him, as if that was all the supporting she could do.

"Oh, Ms. Hanley," Oliver leaned back in his chair, his head swimming in old memories. "I was 9, Tom, you were 6, right?"

Tom nodded, managing to mutter "Yeah, I was in Year Two."

"Right," Oliver laughed, clearly unmoved by his brother's obvious discomfort. 'Well, you fancied that girl, didn't you? Hannah? And Ms. Hanley told you to go back to your seat instead of going to hers all the time, and you just outright punched her right in the face." Oliver was laughing hysterically, unable to contain himself. "Mum had to pick you up right from class."

"I never let them hit me," Carol explained, rolling her eyes at her oldest son. "I don't know why Thomas acted out that way."

"She was a proper bitch." Tom explained, his eyes narrowing at Oliver.

"Language." His mother reprimanded, glaring at Tom the same was Tom was glaring at Oliver.

Luckily for Thomas, the conversation shifted right back to his older brother, who clearly seemed to be more comfortable with the spotlight. Apparently, Oliver was quite the handful when he was younger, going through clothes and toys at ridiculously alarming speeds. He was a bundle of energy, much like he was now, always having to move and fidget and shuffle. It was something I had always noticed about him; he was always cracking his knuckles or staring at moving objects or just drumming his fingers along flat surfaces, especially during boring interviews. As Oliver had told me earlier, it was probably some kind of undiagnosed ADHD. Its not like it didn't work to his advantage now; he could just release all that excess energy on stage during one of the band's shows. Besides, he was always gentle with me, calling me 'the rock' of the relationship. It was true though, I was the one to slow Oliver down when his ambitions or when his energy got the best of him. He always meant well though, so it wasn't that taxing keeping up with him.

Still, I couldn't help but be a little upset when Oliver stood up from the table at the end of the meal, telling everyone he had an interview to do at some studio in 30 minutes.

"You didn't tell me." I said under my breath, walking alongside him as he walked down the drive to the car.

"I'm sure Caroline won't mind taking you home, love. It's no big deal."

I was silent, trying to keep my over-reactions to myself as he unlocked the door and opened it, leaning against it as he studied my face.

"Don't be mad, love." He said, lifting one hand up to caress my jaw gently. "I'll be home before you know it."

"Don't lie," I said, rolling my eyes. "You and Nicholls are doing this interview. You will talk to this reporter, and then go for some drinks."

"I'll be back before midnight though." He pulled his hand back, finally realizing just how annoyed I was. The car door jutted awkwardly into his side, which couldn't have been comfortable.

I sighed, brushing my fringe out of my eyes. "Alright. I'll see you at home then."

He nodded, before leaning in to kiss me. When he realized I wasn't going to give him more than a peck, he pulled away, his eyes downcast, before getting into the car and shutting the door. He gave me one last glance before the headlights blinded me, his shiny black car glittering in the night as it pulled away in reverse down the drive.

I turned around back into the house, only to find Caroline leaning against the front door frame.

"I can't take you home," She said, her high pitched nasally voice piercing the air. "It's too far out of the way. Why would you two decide to live in City Centre anyways?"

I shrugged, moving past her back into the house. One thing I did not want to deal with after a mini-fight with Oliver was Tom's primadonna girlfriend. All I did was grab my phone out of my purse, and found a number in my phone book.

"Christian?"

"Sorry to call you on such late notice, Curtis. Can I have a ride to Blake's?"

______________________________________

The thing I loved most about Curtis was his ability to sense my emotions. If I was happy and in a lighthearted mood, he would joke and be crazy right along with me. But, if it was a time like this, he would simply give me a small smile and stay quiet, something Oliver never learned to do. Oliver, unlike Curtis, always had to ask questions, had to know exactly what was bothering me. I guess sometimes it could be endearing, having him care so much. But, most of the times I just wanted to keep it to myself instead of force it on him. The second thing I loved most about Curtis was how close him and Blake were.

"My three amigos!" Blake smiled, opening the door wide for Curtis, Lee and I. Curtis and Lee were already hanging out, ironing through some guitar parts, so Lee just came along too. Wasn't a big deal at all; Lee liked everyone.

"Sorry there's no notice..." I said, my eyes instantly drawn to Alena brushing something off the coffee table quickly, too busy to say hello.

"There's no problem." She said in hurried breaths, finally giving me eye contact once she was down sweeping off the coffee table.

"Oli was an ass to Christian." Curtis said, instantly plopping down onto one of the many beanbag chairs littered around the room. Lee followed suit, closing his eyes and leaning back into the chair.

"How do you know?" I asked him, sitting on the couch, Alena next to me. I couldn't help but stare at the coffee table, wondering what was going on before we came over.

"Love," Lee said to me, his eyes still closed. "Do you ever do any of this 10pm retreat to Blake's house shit when you aren't fighting with him?"

I sighed, clearly too easily figured out. "I guess not."

"Aww, it's alright Sparrow," Blake said, sitting next to me on the couch so I was sandwiched between him and Alena. "Do you want some jane?"

"That's alright. Oliver would kill me."

"Well what did he do exactly?" Curtis asked.

"He didn't tell me him and Matt had that interview. And you know what happens when you hang out with Nicholls."

Curtis and Lee laughed together, clearly recounting some past memories. "I didn't know they had an interview to do today." Lee said.

I shrugged it off. "Oliver clearly doesn't tend to let people know of his plans."

Curtis laughed and nodded, turning to Blake. "If you don't give her some pot, how about me?"

Blake smiled his mischievous smile, pulling out a baggie from his back pocket. "California Kush, all the way from the States." He tossed the baggie at Curtis. "All yours, mon ami."

For some reason, Alena pursed her lips, looking incredibly pissed. To be honest, it caught me completely off guard. To go from dimples and smiles to a look of pure rage was something I was not used to seeing.

"You alright?" I whispered to her, not wanting to draw attention. The boys were too busy finding rolling paper and lighters anyways, Lee and Curtis moving from the beanbags to the coffee table, in order to have a flat surface to roll their joints on.

"What's this?" Lee asked, his finger pinching something miniscule off the table. I couldn't even see what he was referring to from where I was seated.

"What the fuck?" Curtis looked closer, turning his head so he could see it better with his good eye. "It cant be coke, that's more powdery."

"Is this..." Lee licked his finger and sweeped it across the table, before looking at his finger closer. I could see it now, about ten tiny little white flecks were sticking to his finger. "This is meth."

Mine, Curtis', and Lee's eyes all set on Alena, whose lips were still pursed and her eyes still aflame.

"What about it?" She whispered, her voice hard as nails, stinging with every syllable.

We all just stared at her, unsure of what to do. Now, besides Blake, Curtis may be the biggest pothead I knew, but at least he had a reason. His ears were really starting to give out on him. Lee, the Matts, Oliver and I were more recreational. But, none of us really did any of the harder drugs. We just liked having a momentary escape.

Blake killed the awkward moment of us all staring at Alena, unsure of what to do or say. "I found the paper, guys." He collapsed back onto the couch next to me, startling me out of my thoughts about Alena. I hadn't even realized he had gotten up. I was so incredibly confused. "Uhm...is something wrong?" He asked when no one answered him.

"Of course not, darling." Alena instantly changed her expression from fury to smiling again, reaching over me and putting her hand on Blake's knee. "We all just spaced out, that's all."

Blake smiled, setting the rolling paper down and taking the weeds out of the baggie. He delicately began pulling the buds apart. "Alright then."

I looked over at Lee, who had an incredibly confused look on his face, his elfin features contorted awkwardly at Alena. Curtis on the other hand, no longer seemed to remember what Lee had just found, and was now helping Blake prepare the blunts.

Needless to say, by the next morning, I found myself asleep on one of the beanbag chairs, my body painfully smooshed onto the little chair. What was more painful though, was my head trying to make sense of the memories in my head of Alena, the way her facial expressions seemed to change almost instantly, the way Lee and her just stared at each other while Blake and Curtis prepared the weed, the way Alena quickly pacified Blake, keeping him in the dark about the alleged meth that was on his coffee table. All I wanted to do was go home into my own bed, into Oliver's open arms. Somehow though, I knew these issues wouldn't go away that easily.