When Perfect Meets Crazy novel Chapter 33

I was the first one up. As always. Today however, I didn’t get much sleep to begin with. After arranging for Ian to sleep on the floor, my mind couldn’t get quiet. It was running a mile a minute thinking, overthinking and rethinking everything he had revealed.

I wouldn’t have minded if my body wasn’t so exhausted it was practically begging for sleep. With complete disregard for how tired my body was, my brain kept churning. Of course when I finally managed to quiet my brain and get sleep on the agenda, my dad chose to show up. And to top it off, he chose to come in through the back door like an intruder which he only does occasionally. Between worrying that he’d find evidence like a blood stain that would lead him to find Ian in my room and a very realistic fear that it wasn’t even him at all but rather one of the people Ian was running from, sleep pretty much flew out the window.

It wasn’t till sometime around 4a.m. I was finally able to drift off. Not much in the way of sleep if you did the calculation.

I had breakfast ready and was halfway through the dirty dishes when Olly ventured downstairs, yawning loudly.

“Sleep well?” I asked begrudgingly, my tone green with envy as I slid a plate of eggs and bacon over to her.

I shouldn’t have bothered with breakfast. With how well tested she was, she didn’t deserve it.

She grunted an unintelligible sound.

Olly wasn’t by any stretch of imagination an early riser and if she was expected to wake up early and make conversation, it had to be after some form a meal.

She devoured the contents of her plate while I worked through the rest of the dishes.

“Hey, can I borrow your black skirt? The pleated one. I want to wear it with my new boots.”

“Hmmm.” I nodded absently, wiping my hands dry after putting away the last of the dishes.

We borrowed stuff from each a lot. Her more so than me. Most times, she couldn’t even be bothered to ask. My closet was always organized and she knew my system so it was easy for her to take things whenever she wanted with or without my permission. I was used to her barging into my room and taking whatever she wan--

My eyes widened in horror as my thought process slammed to a stop.

I had something to hide in my room.

“Olly! Wait!” I screamed, flying after her.

She was halfway up the stairs by the time I caught up.

“What?” She wasn’t amused.

“I’ll get it,” I said as calmly as I could while panting like a seventy year old with tuberculosis.

She eyed me suspiciously. I pasted a smile on my face. Her eyes narrowed, not buying it.

“I just organized my closet. I don’t want you messing it up.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, continuing up the stairs. “I need to take my bath anyway. Just put it in the bathroom.”

I kept the smile on my face until she entered her room. Then, I allowed myself a sigh of relief. That was too close. How on earth did I forget I was harbouring Ian in my room?

I slapped my hand across my face, mentally chiding myself to do better.

I sighed, then sped off to my room.

Ian was still sprawled at the foot of my bed, faintly snoring. One would think he’d be awake by now given the circumstances but no, the idiot was not only sleeping in at an unsafe person’s house but had actually slept through both my alarm and my not so quiet morning rituals -taking my bath, packing my bag, laying out my clothes, prepping my hair-.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes to the heavens.

“Wake up, idiot.” I hissed.

“Hmmm.” He rolled over, turning his back to me.

“Get. Up.” I stabbed his injured arm with my index finger.

It did the trick. With a groan of pain, his eyelids fluttered open.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” I sniped, walking over to my closet.

I picked out the skirt Olly wanted and headed to the bathroom door.

“I’ll deal with you in a sec,” I informed him.

Olly was in the shower as expected so I draped the skirt over the basin by the door leading to her room so she’d pick it up on her way out.

I returned to my room.

“I have school in a little while. What’s your plan?” I asked the boy who was still groggily rubbing his good hand over his unbruised eye.

Surprisingly, he had been right about the quick healing thing. His face looked markedly better.

“I’ll go see Townsend,” he answered.

It was clear he spouted the first idea that popped into his head and hadn’t actually thought it through.

I managed to refrain from rolling my eyes at his suggestion.

“Is that safe?” I pointed out the obvious, gesturing for him to turn around while I pulled a shirt over my tank top and switched out the sweatpants I had on for a corduroy wine colored skirt that stopped just short of my knees.

I took his lack of reply as a negative and forged on.

“Also, won’t rolling up battered and bruised raise eyebrows?”

Once again, he stayed conveniently quiet.

“You haven’t thought this through at all, have you?” I slipped on a pair of pumps.

“I just woke up. Cut me some slack.” He yawned, shoulders drooping a little.