Oliver Thorton

Her name was Johanna. Her and her best friend Shauna would often find themselves drunk and full of drugs at some club and would be taken home by the first man who was okay with sleeping with two women. Oliver, unfortunately, happened to be that man. They ensured that he was full of alcohol before they left for his flat that night.

They showed him a great time; he enjoyed them while he could. James would later pat him on the back for getting two women to go home with him in the wee hours of the morning. He had his own tart latched to his arm; they began their adventures in the taxicab. 


The women left almost immediately after the fun had ended. Oliver would soon realize that what little money he had in his wallet was also gone, along with some food from the refrigerator.

Even though he would not be able to afford his smoking addiction for another week, he was glad. He thanked James for taking him out that night.

But again, life would continue. He would continue to work; barely making enough to pay the flat, he would smoke until his lungs were black and he would cry himself to sleep over Carter. That part of his life, the one he wished had changed, would not. He was wondering if he would ever stop missing Carter. Perhaps it was for the best. A reminder that he was not worth more, nor would he ever get more.

A fortnight since the incident with the women. Oliver was beginning to forget and return to his old ways. He found that going out for nightly walks at the park were quickly becoming his favourite pastime. They allowed him time to think. There was an opening for assistant manager at the shop. He wanted it, so very badly, but he would not pursue it. He did not think too highly of himself. And he had no motivation. Unless more food in the cupboard was motivation. His mother had called, quickly asking how his life went and giving news on her life. Oliver had not answered and deleted the message as soon as he heard it. He knew that his parents had the right to force him from their home, but he had been so young and unprepared. While Thomas went to live at the campus residence, Oliver had been nineteen and jobless. He left London altogether. He was not sure if Chester was better, but it was all he would get.

He was sitting on the chair in front of the telly. For once James was not with a woman, rather reading some novel that Oliver had no interest in. He had no interest in reading; he felt that books never taught him anything of importance that couldn't be learned from experience.

There came a knock at the door. Neither man made a move to answer. Three more knocks before Oliver could feel the headache forming. He lazily rose from the chair, pointing a glare towards his roommate, who was not even paying him any attention. 
He did not expect to see who was at the door. He did not even think she would remember where the house was. It was not as if her and her friend had been in the right mind when they last made their appearance in his life.

Johanna had been crying; that much was evident. Her bright blue eyes were red, tears still leaking from the orbs. Her cheeks were very much flushed. Oliver did not know if it was from the sadness or the cold; both were bitter. Her once fiery red hair was showing brown at the roots, nor did it appear that she had pulled a brush through it since that night. 
Oliver did not know what to do. Does he invite her in? Why? Did she need to steal more of his money? Thankfully James came to save the day. He did not recognize her and simply thought that she was perhaps one of the women he had taken home one night. 
James, at least, offered her a small smile and allowed her to come inside. She agreed to tea. 
Her hands were shaking. Again, Oliver did not know if it was from the sadness or the cold. The heat had not yet continued to work through the flat, so it was awfully chilly.

The three stayed in silence for ten minutes; James had returned to his novel by this point. Oliver was growing impatient. It was not as if he had better things to do with his time – he had planned on going to bed early – but he would rather not sit and stare at the woman who robbed him for longer than he must.

“I-I am sorry for bothering you at this time.” Her voice was timid and small. Her eyes watered as she began to speak. “I just –” A sob broke through her mouth as she held a napkin to her chapped lips. 
She had now gained James’s full attention. He marked his page and turned to face her. He could never keep his nose out of other people’s business. Of all of his flaws, Oliver felt that this was the worst.

“Are you going to apologize for robbing me as well? You and your friend?” Oliver had not meant to sound so bitter. But he had to go two weeks without his own pack of smokes. He did not like owing people things; especially not James, who he felt was too rich to be his friend to begin with.

Another sob broke free from her and she nodded almost frantically.

“I do apologize for that as well. It was my friend, Shauna. She…she does this every time she's with a man. I didn't want to, but –” Oliver softened; he did not like to see others cry. “I would not come to you if I didn’t have a choice.” She looked straight into his eyes and Oliver knew that he was not going to like what she had to say.

“Are you in trouble with someone?” James butt in. “Because if you are, we don’t want to be any part of it! I will not get involved with drug lords, okay?”
 It surprised them both when Johanna sent a glare his way. She seemed so much different than she did the last they saw her. She was dressed modestly for the winter for starters, compared to the mini skirt she was in before.

“Will you please let me talk?” She barked, more tears flowing. “I know you're not going to believe me, but, you have to know. “ She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. “I’m sorry Oliver, but…I’m pregnant.” No reaction. “…And it’s yours.”