Episode I: The Late Night Phone Call

The sound of the vibrating cell phone on the wooden desk twenty feet away from his bed was so aggravating that it made James Oliver shout out with complete disdain as he rolled out of bed. Three Valiums was almost enough to get him to sleep; too many and he would be in no shape for the next day. Even still, no matter how good the Valiums made him feel, he was still pissed. Why? It was past three in the morning as he looked at his glowing alarm clock. Even on a weekend most drunk dialer's end calling him around two. The only person who would even dare to call him that late was Amelia. More often than not there wouldn't be a particular reason for her to call either. He knew this as he answered the phone, if only to make her annoying ring tone stop. Ollie thought the sooner he got the conversation over with the better.

"Ollie it's me"

"Yeah, I know it's you Amelia... you ruined my beauty sleep."

"I need you to come over."

"Amelia, as much as I would like to come over, sit on your futon and stare at your rack without you noticing, I just want to sleep."

"Seriously, I need you to come over, I'm freaking out. This guy followed me home and won't leave."

That got his attention. As long as he had known her, Amelia had always attracted scores of men. It always made a pit in his stomach when she would tell him about the guys she would meet or bring home; especially when she was still going out with her hometown sweetheart. He tried to figure out in his head if he was scared for her or just jealous that it wasn't her that she brought home.

"Well, tell him you called the cops Amelia."

"I've tried, but he still won't leave."

"Where's Sonya, or Jenn? Please don't tell me you're by yourself in that house."

"I am and I have Shelly's gun."

The pit in his stomach was growing, he felt like he was going to vomit, but then again that might of had more to do with three shots of scotch and the bean and cheese burritos he washed his Valium down with. He could barely believe his ears.

"At least tell me the gun isn't loaded..."

"No, it is."

"Okay, is the safety on?"

"I'm not sure."

By now he was scrambling around his bedroom, slipping back into the clothes he tossed off earlier in the night. 

"Christ, I'm leaving. Call the cops in five minutes, I'll be at your back door in five minutes, put your phone on vibrate."

For any other person getting that kind of distressed phone call would probably send them into a panic.  This wasn't the first time he had to wake up in the middle of the night to come and bail her out. Three weeks ago he actually had to bail her out of jail after she got into a fight at a bar with a girl who stepped on her foot with stiletto heels at a club. She was always a handful.

[Continued Tomorrow]