The Deep End
Chapter 5
Walking home was a dull event. Alan only encountered a few people; thank god. He was undeniably embarrassed to be wearing a satanic jumper, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to take it off.
He opened the door and was greeted by his mother, who usually spent her time, when she was not at work, reading those shitty gossip magazines.
He hoped that he could get upstairs going unnoticed. He got onto the fourth step.
"That jumper isn't yours."
Well fuck, that was short lived.
"Uh, yeah, I borrowed it off someone, I forgot mine." Alan tried to shrug it off and ignore the holes being burnt into his back from his mother's fiery glare at the pentagram.
She just let it go. God really was answering his prayers today, it seemed.
He sprinted upstairs and flopped onto his bed, tucking the jumper around his body more. He would be sad to give it back, it was baggy, well worn and it smelt of Austin.
The tranquillity was destroyed:
"Alan, I am going to Pamela's house for a bit, if you need anything I have my phone on me. Bye, honey!"
"Okay." Alan croaked out. He estimated her visit to Pamela two streets away would last at least three hours. How they managed to accumulate so much gossip, he will never know.
It seemed that not a minute after his mother left, Austin returned home. Hallelujah.
After falling down the stairs and making an impressive recovery, he shoved his shoes on and he was out of the door. Their houses were not even four metres away from each other. With Austin's bedroom window being directly opposite Alan's.
He shrugged the hoodie off, and rung the door bell, fiddling with his hair while waiting.
A beaming Austin answered the door, almost shouting hello and beckoning him to come in.
Alan couldn't help but walk slowly, gazing at the pictures hung on the wall but attempting to do it subtly. They were mostly family photos; showing Austin and his parents growing in age. There was a particularly sweet one of Austin from when he was about 13, at Disneyland with his mum, standing in front of the famous castle.
"Hey, Alan, quit sniggering at my teenage self."
I obeyed and followed the echo of his voice into what seemed to be the dining room. Placed on a wooden table in the middle of the room was a plate of cookies. They looked like the best edible things in existence.
"I made them earlier." Austin explained, before plucking one off the top of the pile and gently shoving it into his mouth before Alan had the time to react.
They were good. Better than he was expecting. We didn't really know what he was expecting, he thought they would look good and taste like cardboard. The one time he tried his mum's cookies they tasted like feet. ("I already told you Alan, I accidentally put cheese in the dough, it was an accident, Not all my cooking is like that!")
Never mind the excuse, how the fuck did she manage to get grated cheese in the mixture?
"Good?" Austin was inspecting his features with hope. Alan gave him a thumbs and whispered almost seriously.
"Hella." Austin just laughed.
"You're a funny kid, Ashby."
They made their way into the living room, and within two minutes they were both sprawled out on the sofas watching some British TV show that Austin had insisted they watch.
"Just watch it, you'll thank me." Austin appeared pretty certain of that outcome so Alan just let it go and watch the thing. Austin even made them watch the last episode of the season, making it slightly perplexing at first.
Alan spent more time paying attention to Austin's squeals and shocked sound effects to his right. It took an hour and a half for the programme to end and by the end of it Austin's sobbing was getting pretty overwhelming.
"But." He sniffed. "He j-jumped for them, Alan. He acted like he didn't c-care but he did." At which point Alan crawled onto Austin's sofa, and Austin immediately buried his face in his shoulder, becoming dead weight and collapsing on him. He mumbled something along the lines of 'Johnlock forever' and Alan just let it go because Austin didn't seem to be in the most stable position at that moment.
He opened the door and was greeted by his mother, who usually spent her time, when she was not at work, reading those shitty gossip magazines.
He hoped that he could get upstairs going unnoticed. He got onto the fourth step.
"That jumper isn't yours."
Well fuck, that was short lived.
"Uh, yeah, I borrowed it off someone, I forgot mine." Alan tried to shrug it off and ignore the holes being burnt into his back from his mother's fiery glare at the pentagram.
She just let it go. God really was answering his prayers today, it seemed.
He sprinted upstairs and flopped onto his bed, tucking the jumper around his body more. He would be sad to give it back, it was baggy, well worn and it smelt of Austin.
The tranquillity was destroyed:
"Alan, I am going to Pamela's house for a bit, if you need anything I have my phone on me. Bye, honey!"
"Okay." Alan croaked out. He estimated her visit to Pamela two streets away would last at least three hours. How they managed to accumulate so much gossip, he will never know.
It seemed that not a minute after his mother left, Austin returned home. Hallelujah.
After falling down the stairs and making an impressive recovery, he shoved his shoes on and he was out of the door. Their houses were not even four metres away from each other. With Austin's bedroom window being directly opposite Alan's.
He shrugged the hoodie off, and rung the door bell, fiddling with his hair while waiting.
A beaming Austin answered the door, almost shouting hello and beckoning him to come in.
Alan couldn't help but walk slowly, gazing at the pictures hung on the wall but attempting to do it subtly. They were mostly family photos; showing Austin and his parents growing in age. There was a particularly sweet one of Austin from when he was about 13, at Disneyland with his mum, standing in front of the famous castle.
"Hey, Alan, quit sniggering at my teenage self."
I obeyed and followed the echo of his voice into what seemed to be the dining room. Placed on a wooden table in the middle of the room was a plate of cookies. They looked like the best edible things in existence.
"I made them earlier." Austin explained, before plucking one off the top of the pile and gently shoving it into his mouth before Alan had the time to react.
They were good. Better than he was expecting. We didn't really know what he was expecting, he thought they would look good and taste like cardboard. The one time he tried his mum's cookies they tasted like feet. ("I already told you Alan, I accidentally put cheese in the dough, it was an accident, Not all my cooking is like that!")
Never mind the excuse, how the fuck did she manage to get grated cheese in the mixture?
"Good?" Austin was inspecting his features with hope. Alan gave him a thumbs and whispered almost seriously.
"Hella." Austin just laughed.
"You're a funny kid, Ashby."
They made their way into the living room, and within two minutes they were both sprawled out on the sofas watching some British TV show that Austin had insisted they watch.
"Just watch it, you'll thank me." Austin appeared pretty certain of that outcome so Alan just let it go and watch the thing. Austin even made them watch the last episode of the season, making it slightly perplexing at first.
Alan spent more time paying attention to Austin's squeals and shocked sound effects to his right. It took an hour and a half for the programme to end and by the end of it Austin's sobbing was getting pretty overwhelming.
"But." He sniffed. "He j-jumped for them, Alan. He acted like he didn't c-care but he did." At which point Alan crawled onto Austin's sofa, and Austin immediately buried his face in his shoulder, becoming dead weight and collapsing on him. He mumbled something along the lines of 'Johnlock forever' and Alan just let it go because Austin didn't seem to be in the most stable position at that moment.
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