29 | Frozen Yogurt

It was done.

Word flew all around the world. Brennan and Montana had split up. And there was nothing to do about it. The people were going to watch a live broadcast of a conference later on, in which they will both explain everything. Sadly, I couldn't be there to back my sister up. School called, and apparently I had some learning to do.

But that didn't mean I wasn't affected by everything going on. Every Clevemore student was talking about it and half a day was gone and no one was going to shut up. I haven't seen Mitch around. I wasn't even certain she went to school today. And I didn't want to care.

I made my way closer to the double doors of the cafeteria. I just wanted to escape this, think about it no more. But that was nowhere near possible.

"Oliver!" I turned to my right to see GC Gibbs running towards me.

"Oliver!" said he when he got near, "I was wondering if you've seen Mitchell?"

I didn't want to and I didn't care.

"Why?" I asked slowly. Gradually, students gathered around us at the mention of any clue for the news.

Nobody seemed to know the girl Brennan cheated on Montana with. But I knew. Others had bits of clues here and there, but I kept my mouth shut. I was surprised Mitch wasn't blabbing about it online or anywhere. She seemed so proud of it yesterday.

"Rita Scott got word from her sources. Mitchell . . . Rita thinks it's her," GC explained. Collective gasps blew from the crowd.

"You're wasting your time. I'm not getting involved in this." I started to walk forward, but the boy stopped me again.

"Please? Did you know she was having an affair with him before? Did you know anything about it, or had you just found out last night?"

I stopped, sighed, and pursed my lips. "Fine. You want to know something? I witnessed it firsthand." As if I became a huge magnet, the people flocking came closer, to hear the story.

I saw GC slipping out a recorder from his jacket. I figured they sent him because he was a friend of mine, easy to be bribed. I scowled, "What the he – Is that a recorder? For Rita?"

His eyes widened, being caught in the act, "No! It's for the Debate Team . . . they want to broadcast after school . . . "

"GC, you're in the Yearbook Club."

"We're working together!"

I huffed. What will I do then, if I reveal this? Give Mitch the satisfaction to be 'famous'? Or will it tear down the whole world and the 'Brentana' fandom even more? I crossed my arms and watched helplessly as everyone took out their phones, to record the whole thing.

"Put those away!" I snapped. Instantly, they did so to avoid any accident. Funny, if it were real paparazzi, they wouldn't have listened.

"I witnessed it firsthand," I tried to keep my voice strong, "I was in Reynold Records for a delivery from our shop. And then I came across a room and I heard her voice. When I opened it I saw them, Mitch and Brennan. Making out on a couch. There."

I moved on to the cafeteria. Damn, I was hungry. But apparently GC had more questions, "So you didn't know anything about it until then? What did Mitch say about this?"

"Hell if I knew," I scoffed, "If you want answers, you talk to her."

With that, I escaped through the crowd, running the rest of the length towards the cafeteria. But then I was pulled brutally into the janitor's closet, as the students clamored to get me. I inwardly groaned. Why didn't I just walk away?

"You're not getting any more from me, Rita," I sneered into the dark. But when the light clicked on, the face that greeted me was Zafra Bernardo's.

"Bernardo?" My eyebrows arched, "Why did you pull me in here?"

She didn't look like she was going to ask information. She barely had people sources. Most of the time, she extracted the truth from the internet. She was fidgeting with her beanie and biting her lip.

"Ollie, I know everything. And it was Mitch, wasn't it?" She whispered.

"Yes."

She flinched, but I didn't mean to make my tone harsh. "It's all my fault," she put her fists up to her face, "I didn't know she'd do that! I gave her information, you see, information she knew she wasn't going to get anywhere else. She knew Brennan was going to be there and she's been planning this one for days!"

"I had no idea . . . I'm so sorry you lost her, Oliver. She was a sneaky one. Backstabbing."

My face softened, "No one could've seen that coming. But thanks for the apology."

I was about to come out when she stopped me, "Wait! How can I make it up to you somehow?"

"You don't need to – "

"I'll hold off those people if you want to. I'll get them off your back, especially Rita Scott. They know you're not lying so you could be attacked by so many questions."

"Thanks," I opened the door an inch but she held me up again.

"Do – do you want to sit with us today? In our table?"

It was only that moment when I realized I was sitting with nobody. Mitch had been my only closest friend in Clevemore. And I lost her. I was alone.

"No, thanks," I muttered before opening the door and walking out before she could stop me again. I quickly went inside the cafeteria, where it was busy with chatter. Louder than I've ever heard before.

And by cue, when I walked in, the Debate Team and the School Paper both stood up, making their way towards me. I thought I was going to get mauled, but then Zafra stepped in front of me with a glare and that stopped all the people.

They got the hint – stay away from Oliver and receive the wrath of Bernardo.

Subconsciously, my gaze moved towards my usual table with Mitch as I walked to the line to get food. Just like that, it struck me so hard that the pain of losing her was unbearable. She was sitting there, eating quietly and Rita Scott just had to be all buddy-buddy with her, getting the information.

We made eye contact and I was first to look away.

Once I got a burger and soda only, I looked around for some place to sit. None. There was no empty table a loner could occupy.

Just then, as my gaze raked over the room, Brenda waved me over to her table, where she, her girlfriends, with the additions of Lowell, GC and Perry there. Juniors were so nice. As I approached the group, I saw that one of the girls was seemingly scolding GC.

"This one has something to say to you," Brenda tapped a pencil on GC's head. Head hung low, he began to apologize.

"I'm sorry I did that a while ago," he muttered.

"Apology accepted," I said, taking a bite out of my burger. The girls, plus Perry (surprisingly) began assuring me that they had no intention of getting news from me and they'll be there no matter what.

But I wasn't exactly in the mood for substitute friends and apologies. I wanted to go home and maybe go to work for Jackson.

A megaphone caught our attention. Rita Scott herself was standing on top of a table, talking loudly through it. "Fellow Clevemore students," she announced, "a live broadcast of Brennan Dale and Montana Reynolds' conference!"

A cheer rose among the students. And then came an immediate hush when the TV screens turned on and showed the conference. I could tell it was inside Reynold Records.

At the long table sat Paul, Brennan, Montana and Fatima. The audience was the paparazzi. As I peered closer, I saw Dad at the side of the stage. It looked like it had already started, but only five or so minutes in.

While my sister was well groomed, Brennan looked like a wreck. Dark circles were at the bottom of his eyes, and he looked sloppily dressed. He scratched his head and yawned as a reporter asked a question.

"So, officially, their relationship was fake? None of it real?"

"We told you," Paul spoke into the microphone, "All of it has been a show for fame in popularity. It just had to fall apart at some point, but I assure you, there will be no hostility between them."

"And Montana, there was no slip in of feelings after years of being together?" another one asked. I wanted to whisk my sister away from them.

"Um," her eyes widened at first. Fatima leaned in to answer, but Montana stopped her.

She croaked, "I have to answer honestly. No – there wasn't any feelings. It was a no-strings attached relationship." Something pricked in my chest when Brennan gazed at her like he was in pain.

They both knew. They both knew Montana made way for her feelings so much as to love him, but he didn't.

I swallowed a lump in my throat.

"And Brennan? What could you say about cheating on her?" Flashes of the cameras aimed at their way.

"It was about time he couldn't stand me anymore – " Montana began but Brennan stopped her, grabbing her hand and clutching it. This took her by surprise and she stared dazedly at their entwined hands.

Brennan spoke, "Montana Reynolds is a kind of woman which . . . I can't even explain what she's like. She's a lot of things – hotheaded, overdramatic and overdressed. But she's the strongest face I've ever seen on screen. She takes whatever judgment society throws at her and tells them to screw themselves.

She embraces those insults and uses them to make herself stronger. The way you know her is not the way I see her. And I am the stupidest person in the world to let her go even if it's just a fake relationship. I don't even think it's a fake at all. What we built those years was a bond, something that can prevent history from repeating itself, something that is inseparable. No one has understood me the way she has and vice versa.

That . . . incident was a moment of weakness, and if I had the chance to change things, the world wouldn't find out like this. If anyone was to blame for this split up, it's me."

The screen panned back to Montana, who was already crying. I wiped a few tears away from my own eyes.

"What's next for the both of you?" another question piped up.

Montana answered this time, "We'll be – uh – friends? I guess? There's no telling actually. But we don't want to distance ourselves from each other . . . "

I didn't want to listen to the rest of it. I took my burger and drink with me and went through the back doors, which led straight to the field.

I knew for a fact that the conference was the first time they saw each other since yesterday. And I could tell Montana hadn't forgiven him yet. They were still hurting, no matter what they seemed to be like on screen.

I trudged to the bleachers, where I could eat in peace. A few athletes were out, uninterested in the news. I got myself behind the seats and began to sit cross-legged on the grass.

"Not here," I hissed at a freshman who was bringing his lunch to the same spot. He scurried off, afraid.

Almost finishing my burger, another boy appeared, a senior like me this time. Leo Hallstone, if I remembered correctly. I scowled at him, "Find your own bleachers!"

He drew back a little and held out a box in his hand, followed by a card. How could I forget? Leo was the school messenger, like the FedEx of the campus. He did favors for money.

Sighing, I took the box and the card. "How much?" I began to dig into my pocket.

"Already paid for," he said and went off.

Why not a text message from whomever this came from? The box better have food.

Arching an eyebrow, I looked at the gift box sent to me. First, I opened the card:

Ollie,

Hello. Sorry about what happened. Come over at ours later? We'll talk and get fro-yo.

Call either of us.

-Lawrence and Jess

P.S. Take the cupcake. Treat for you.

I smiled at their sweetness. I haven't told Lawrence anything yet, but he seemed to have it all pieced together. I opened the box eagerly and took out the chocolate cupcake. My favorite. I sniffed it; ah, it was from Sweet Moments.

And if they wanted me to come over, then I would. I needed friends to distract me, and they'd be perfect. And they all I had, besides Jackson and Montana now. I sent Lawrence a quick text, telling I'll be coming along with Jackson.

♫ ♫ ♫

After school, I had no idea what to do. No detention for today, fortunately, but once I was out to the parking lot, I realized I had no ride. I was tempted to call Jackson, but he might be too busy to pick me up. Plus, Clevies were hostile to any visiting Acey Spawns. And Lawrence still had class at this time of the day.

I slumped against a wall. It then hit me like a waterfall.

Mitch was gone. I lost my best friend. It was like she died on me. No more chatting online, no more taking pictures of car license plates and no more mocking her father's books. No more car rides to and fro, no more ice pop collection and no more flirty encouragements.

No more fangirling for Destiel, no more food trips, no more mocking other people. No more help with homework, no more free pudding, no more life.

I had lost it all. The impact was now weighing down on me.

Tears built up at the corners of my eyes. Other people stared as I cried softly. My best friend was gone and so was a part of me. Tell me that I was being dramatic and corny, but it was what it felt like. While it felt relieving to be free from lies, it was also painful being hit by the cold hard truth.

When I finally composed myself, I caught a bus straight to the Dales' mansion. The bus was my ride now. And I had to get over it.

Minutes of sitting at the back and leaning against the window. Didn't she ever care anyway? Didn't we share anything special?

But there was no confronting her now, I thought as I got off the bus.

I walked quickly to the mansion, hoping cooking could take my mind off all these. And Jackson. Jackson would fix me up. But as I barged through the doors, I heard yelling.

Montana.

They were in the kitchen. My sister herself was yelling all she could at Brennan. Brennan was trying to shield himself from her attacks, and Jackson was casually on the counter, eating a granola bar.

"What's going on in here?" I whispered, making my way to Jackson and pecking him on the lips. The ex-couple wasn't done fighting yet.

"How dare you, you insensitive, idiotic, stupid, childish - !" Montana screeched as she prepared to throw a chair at Brennan. Suddenly, I wanted to laugh, seeing Walter by the doorway, enjoying the show.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" That was all Brennan could say.

Montana screamed again was trying to lift the kitchen table. I tore my eyes from the scene and gave Jackson a look as I set my bag down.

"What?" he mumbled in defense, "I can't really stop them."

"Or you're just enjoying it as much as your father is," I said, hooking my arms around his neck and kissing him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close but I pulled back.

I approached the fighting pair slowly. I haven't seen Montana going all out like this. I figured it was her way of pouring out the rage directly at him. She prepared a knife at him, but I held her back.

"Monty, Monty, calm down," I said soothingly. The knife clattered on the ground as she dropped it and she immediately hugged me, crying.

"It's okay, it's okay," I rubbed her back up and down.

"G – get me away from here," she sobbed onto my shoulder.

"Well, I'm going to a friend's," I offered, "You'll come with me, okay? Wait outside, I'll be there in a while. I'll just go get Jackson and we'll go."

"Okay," she mumbled and went out. Brennan stared after her.

"Let's get out of here," I beckoned Jackson over and we were on our way out when Brennan stopped us.

"Ollie, Ollie please, you have to listen to me," Brennan knelt on his knees and clutched at my shirt. I didn't want to listen because he hurt my sister after all. But when I looked at Jackson, his expression told me to give Brennan a chance.

I kissed Jackson's cheek and he went out to get the car ready.

"It's was her," Brennan cried into the hem of my shirt, "It was Mitch. She blackmailed me. She knew about everything, Ollie. If I didn't do it, she'd tell everyone. She'd tell the real reason why your work here. She'd tell all your secrets. I didn't expect you'd find out. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, please. Oliver you have to believe me!"

My fist clenched, thinking how Mitch would go that far. Putting my secrets in danger. I briefly met Walter's eyes and his face was unreadable.

"I forgive you," I said and Brennan looked up at me, "But Montana still doesn't. You're coming with us and when you get to talk to her, you explain everything."

"Thank you so much!" he stood up and hugged me, still crying. I grabbed his hand and led me out of here after saying a goodbye to Walter, suggesting he and Maira just order Chinese for dinner.

In the car, Jackson was in the driver's seat, ready to take us to Lawrence's. I had to sit between Montana and Brennan, too keep them from causing a car accident. My sister was neglectfully looking out the window but Brennan kept glancing at her.

I met Jackson's eyes through the mirror. He smiled at me and I forced out one in return.

"You'll be okay," he whispered. And I hoped so.

The whole ride, nobody dared to speak a thing. Jackson tried to ease the tension by playing some music but when it came to a song by Brennan about breaking up, he stopped immediately. I had to palm my face.

Finally, we stopped at the building. Up the stairs, Jackson and Brennan led us while Montana and I followed behind. Once we got to the flat – Lawrence's – it was Jessica who opened the door for us.

Her eyes widened into saucers when she saw Brennan and Montana with us. "God damn," she said, "I thought it'll only be you and Jackson."

"Ah, well, these two need to cheer up, too," I patted Montana's hand.

"And you just went through traffic like that? God, what if someone sees you? Come inside," she ushered us in. Lawrence was in the kitchen and he didn't seem fazed by the guests in the flat.

"We have frozen yogurt and iced tea, and later, we'll be watching a movie," Jess announced. Boldly, she took Montana by both hands and began talking to her. If someone was to advise my sister about breakup issues, it was Jessica.

I watched as they got along easily. Jess seemed to know what she was doing.

Brennan, meanwhile, didn't know Lawrence much. In truth, it was the first time they saw each other in person. But I didn't want to predict what would happen with both their immaturities mixed together. Brennan sat on the couch while Jackson came up to my side.

"Lego coffee table?" Brennan stared at it, "That is awesome."

"I know right?" Lawrence agreed from the kitchen, "But the others didn't think so. Their loss."

I chuckled a little. Well, they seemed fit for each other. Brennan needed a best friend pronto, anyway. Besides Jackson, he didn't have a hangout guy figure in his life.

"I'll talk to you later," I reached up and kissed Jackson before going to Lawrence. He was preparing the refreshments for us.

"Are you okay?" Lawrence asked me in concern.

I shrugged, "Why is everybody asking? I'm okay. I'm not hurt."

He frowned, "You just lost your best friend."

"I didn't lose her; I just found out that she's not worthy of being that." My eyes betrayed me. They began watering and I started to snivel. Chocolates, when will it end?

Lawrence gathered me in his arms and I hugged him as tight as I could. "You know Jess and I will always be here for you, right? We won't let you go, Ollie, I promise. I never trusted that girl, anyway."

I cried harder, thinking how Lawrence was truer than Mitch ever was. He never pried about this life of mine – he never asked about Brennan, or Montana or Dad. And I could freely tell him everything. He cared about me as a person, not because I was daughter to a rich company owner.

"You . . . you . . . thank you. I really need this, I guess. I'll never get to do anything without you, you know that?"

"I'm here for you," he assured.

"You and Jess and are my best friends now," I told him.

He suddenly stopped stroking my hair and held me at arm's length. "Hey, wait a minute now, I knew you first. How come she gets as much credit?"

I laughed and wiped my tears, "Because she's been here for me as much as you have."

"I'll treat you the best, Ollie."

I helped him carry the food to the living room, where the others were seated as comfortable as they could on the deformed couch. Jessica was putting a movie in. I took a cup of frozen yogurt for myself and sat beside Jackson.

As the movie went, the rest watched, absorbed. But I didn't miss how Brennan tried to talk to Montana but she would brush him off. Also, Jackson was staring at me from time to time as I ate. Although we were next to each other, he didn't make a move to grab my hand or kiss my cheek.

I soon realized he was only waiting for me to finish eating so he could drag me away. As soon as I emptied the cup, he grabbed my arm and led us away from the group. The others didn't ask and they didn't seem to be bothered by it.

Jackson put us inside Lawrence's room, where the moonlight filtered in and the smell of dirty dishes prevailed.

Jackson hugged me, burying his head on my shoulder. "I've wanted to talk to you since last night."

"Me too."

He put my arms around his neck and pulled me close. I set my forehead on his neck. It always felt complete to be with him. Alone.

"I don't want to talk about anything happening right now," I told him, "Just you and me."

"We need to postpone that Doctor Who marathon, don't we?"

"But we have to finish the Supernatural one!" I whined.

We've been introducing our fandoms to each other and he seemed passive about Supernatural. I didn't know yet what to feel with Doctor Who, because there was already too much feels among SuperLock.

"Jackson, about what happened between Brennan and Montana, do you think . . . ?"

He held me tighter, "No, sweets. I will not let that happen between us."

"But with my Dad and everything going on – "

Jackson tilted my chin up, having me look at his eyes, "I said no. That will not happen."

We stayed like that for a while, sappily looking at each other. But I can't seem to take the scenario seriously because we were in a college boy's bedroom and it wasn't the ideal place to build up the moment.

Building up the moment. Jackson said it to me once. Before kissing, we had to build up a moment of suspense, to keep it sweeter and more meaningful. Kissing right away didn't much have an effect than kissing within the moment.

The first time we kissed, we were watching Supernatural in his bedroom. As he was hooked on the show, I had turned up my head and kissed him hastily on the lips. He reacted instantly, getting all flustered and confused.

I had told him it wasn't a big deal – couples did kiss. But he had argued that first kisses were special, and braved to kiss me right there and then, in a longer time. From that day, I was addicted to his lips.

"You want to kiss me, don't you?" he asked, smiling.

"No, I want to sacrifice your soul to the demons – of course I want to kiss you, you poop."

"Wait a second," I narrowed my eyes at his lips. Smooth and shiny. Unbelievably smooth and shiny. "Are you wearing lip gloss?" I threw my head back in laughter.

He blushed, "Um, I just don't want to kiss you with chapped lips . . . ?"

"Wait, wait." That wasn't over yet. "Open your mouth."

I brought my nose closer to his lips.

"What?" Jackson asked.

"I said open your mouth!"

Hesitantly, he did so, opening it wide. I smelled his mouth and it was true to what I suspected. "Did you just smell my tongue?" he said incredulously.

"You – you!" I laughed, "Mint! You chewed mint before we got here! Vanilla cakes, Jackson!" He grumbled as I began to laugh and laugh.

"I was thinking you'd complain about my breath or something," he said, avoiding my eyes.

"Me? Holy crap, jackass, I can't care less about my breath. I can be eating garlic and I'll kiss you if I want to kiss you."

"Well, why don't I have a taste of that fro-yo?"

Closer and closer we went, and my lips tingled in anticipation. When I kissed Jackson, it was different, something that couldn't be put into words. As we neared, I felt his breath on my face – yes, it was minty – and I let my lips subtly graze the corner of his mouth.

And then we were kiss –

"Ollie! I need you to be my wingman!" Brennan chose the awesome moment to barge in and ask for my help.

I groaned and pulled away from Jackson. Just one, one milli-freaking-meter away. Curse you, Brennan Dale.

I sprang into action. I picked up a rolling pin lying around and began beating Brennan with it, when he even dared step inside the room. He screamed as I hit him and that eventually drove him out the room. I shut the door and locked it.

"Sweets, I guess we – " Jackson started but I wasn't done.

I grabbed his shirt and kissed him squarely on the lips.

But it was short-lived when I pulled away, "Oh God, I head-butted you, didn't I? Your lips will start bruising, ah, what did I do? I'm – "

He didn't let me finish. He wrapped his arms around and me and kissed me again and I knew then it was our moment. It felt like a mess, meeting his lips with mine. It wasn't an electric shock or fireworks going off. It was hot and fevered. Emotions overwhelmed me like rolling waves. It was more than just physical – there was something deeper inside.

When we stopped, I sucked in a breath and smiled at him. As I gave him a kiss on the cheek, I heard Brennan muttering outside the door.

He complained, " 'Come to this house,' she said. 'it'll be fun,' she said. Of course it wasn't a good idea to come inside like that but I knocked! Haven't you people ever heard of locking the goddamn door?"

"And where the hell did she get a rolling pin? A rolling pin!"

"This is Lawrence's bedroom, what do you expect?" I shouted back at him. Jackson chuckled.

"Please help me out, Ollie!" Brennan pleaded.

I looked at Jackson. I wanted to just stay here and have our nightly talks with him but life had other plans. With a nod, he led us out of the room, knocking down Brennan in the process.

♫ ♫ ♫

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