A/N: I'm getting excited for the next few chapters, hehe. Thanks for reading <3

Chapter 15: Pinky Promise

Ollie's POV

It was difficult not to look at Benjamin's table at lunch or what once was our table at lunch. Granted, it had been a couple of weeks that I had last sat at the table closest to the front of the cafeteria stage. But after years of sitting there with Benjamin and his gang of football boys, my eyes still wandered in that direction, even if I knew it was potentially asking for trouble.

Benjamin hadn't even spared a glance as I walked past after grabbing my lunch, which, maybe that was better.

Lauren sat between the two, in the same spot I once sat, nearly eye-fucking Benjamin. Her arms clutched his elbow, squeezing her chest out as if to attract his attention to her, obviously not in a dress-code shirt that revealed way too much, even by cheerleading standards.

Her, I could ignore; it was the blatant stare Mason was giving me from across the room that I couldn't help but to glance back.

Harvey, who sat beside me and the rest of our gaggle of queer people, had noticed my fleeting glances towards that table, earning me a nudge to the tender spot on my side. I hadn't told any of them about the bruise or the hurtful words, and I planned on keeping that way. Pinching my thigh to mask the excruciating pain and resist the urge to jerk away, I sent him a glare and hissed. "What?"

"Somebody caught your eye?" The corner of his mouth upturned into a grin. Eva had turned curiously at Harvey's words.

"You hiding a fat boy crush and not telling us?" She interjected before Harvey could say anything. Her arm jutted out, nearly taking out Harvey to grasp my shirt sleeve. "The audacity. Ollie, you never tell us anything; who is it?"

"Nobody, alright?" A simple lie, I told her. Jeering a thumb in the general direction of Benjamin's table, I said snarkily, "I'm just spotting our school's most dignified couple. Aren't they just regal?"

She snorted as we gawked at Lauren's desperate attempt at trying to get Benjamin's attention all to herself, while the boys most likely lost in some rant about their last game or practice.

Aside from her blatant advances, the team did what they usually did, stuff their faces and talk shit about whoever they decided to bully that day—that or the latest hookup or video game match.

Yet Mason was engrossed in none of that. Another teammate had snatched his food as he held up his phone, his eyes still trained in my direction. If I was honest, it was surprising that Benjamin hadn't turned to see what his new best friend was staring at; or, he had seen and instead pretended I was some insignificant ant.

Mason tapped on his phone, quite obviously too, not caring that any of his teammates could see the gesture and make an assumption as to who he was directing the motion to. Pretending not to notice, I turned to Harvey, hoping no one had caught the secret exchange. My phone chimed twice, two other messages that Mason had probably sent after he saw I hadn't looked at my phone.

Harvey had looked at it briefly, and I only hoped he didn't see the name. For added measure, I diverted the conversation before he could say anything about it. "Harvey, how's the musical going?"

He tilted his head puppy-like, one of his dark locks falling over his face dramatically. "Okay, I guess? We were talking about the Winter formal. The musical isn't until February."

"Ah, just curious. I'm sure you're all working hard, though. Memorizing lines and whatnot."

"Yeah, I guess. It's mostly songs, by the looks of it—well, not for Seymour. But I think I can manage; I already knew a couple of the main songs. I think the staging will be worse."

Thankfully, the bell rang, signaling lunch was over, and I didn't have to feel the daggers Mason was sending my way anymore. Surely if his teammates had caught wind of that, they'd probably seek me out again, thinking I've upset Mason somehow. I wasn't sure my side could take another punch at this point.

As quickly as my side allowed, I shot up from my seat, practically herding Harvey and the rest of us out of the cafeteria, just wanting to get to my class as quickly as possible. It wasn't until I pulled Harvey down the corridor with our classes that I slowed down, my side slightly burning from speed walking. He let out a breathy sigh and looked at me curiously. Questions, had he not been out of breath, would have been rapidly fired at me.

My phone chimed again, and this time, I slipped it out of my pocket—four messages, from Mason, of course.

Meet me at the bus stop. I'll pick you up.

Okay?

If you still don't mind chatting.

And the last one. Ollie?

"Ooh, what's this? Texting a special someone?" Harvey leaned his head toward the phone. Nearly dropping it from jerking my phone away, he flinched, looking like a deer in the headlights at my reaction. "Sorry, it's just you—"

"Sorry," I interjected. "Just a friend saying he'll pick me up after school."

Still a bit frightened, Harvey slowly nodded, taking an extra step away from my side as we headed down the hall, already parting from Eva and her girlfriend. "Ah, that's nice. The bus is a hassle."

I hummed before opening my phone discreetly. Quickly typing okay, before sending it, exiting out of the messages, and locking my phone. "Yeah, I'll see you in AP Psych."

He awkwardly waved as he headed to his English class as I tried to ignore the apparent ping from my phone, another reply from Mason.

Mason had sent a couple of messages after that, during class, through passing, and even right before the bell rang, which came off as Harvey had suggested; it was as if I had an overly attached boyfriend like I had someone special. His messages made it seem like I would flake on him, like it was some important date or something, which was absurd, and would never happen in a million years.

The bell rang out as the flurry of impatient students scrambled to get out of the room. However, I took my time, carefully packing my belongings, waiting till I got out of my seat. I hated the crowds, masses of teens packed like sardines in the hall, and I wasn't about to get jostled and have my bruise hurt any more than it had to. That, and I was starting to regret agreeing to meet up with Mason.

Usually, I couldn't care less who saw me with who, but Mason was different. He was the football team's pride and joy (aside from Benji), the star transfer student, and football extraordinaire. Surely, somebody would see me entering his fancy white car and assume things. Rumors and gossip would spread like wildfire, and in a matter of minutes, would get around to Benji and his team.

As the millions of scenarios ran through my head, I took my time, taking the long way around the halls and building toward the bus stop. Maybe if I waited a little longer, fewer students would be around to witness us.

I hadn't even made it halfway down the sidewalk to the bus stop as Mason's car slid up next to me. He rolled the window down, a smile donning his face.

"Hey," he said, leaning over closer to the passenger side window.

"Hey." My eyes shifted, wondering if anybody would find this situation weird. Mason had always been around the others; surely rumors would fly if he was seen with me. He motioned to the seat, and I hesitantly got in. My eyes trained on the glove box, hoping the tint was dark enough and that no one had seen me.

The radio was blasting a classic Elton John song, one I hadn't expected from Mason, but he turned it down and cleared his throat before I could say anything. "I waited for a bit, but the bus nearly honked at me for parking there. You got out late?"

"Uh, yeah, a little."

"How's the uh...the stomach?"

"Sore, but I guess manageable." I rolled my eyes as he pulled out of the school parking lot. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "It's not like they broke my arm."

"Yeah, but that wasn't called for; they're idiots." If my side hadn't been sore, I would've laughed at that. He sent a curious look at my amused face. "What? They really don't know what they're doing. You can't just punch people like that; what if you had internal bleeding or a broken rib?"

His face scrunched as if distressed, and I wasn't sure why I had found that so funny. Maybe it was because he technically was one of those idiots; he had been there to witness some of the hurtful things Benjamin said. And yet, now he was upset on my behalf? Was it wrong to be that skeptical?

"Well, I could be bleeding internally, I guess, and just don't know it," I told him jokingly, to which he whipped his head toward me. Luckily we were at a red light, or I'd fear he'd crash his car.

"That's not funny, Ollie—" He stopped short, gulping before saying meekly, "I mean, Oliver."

I shook my head. "It's fine. You haven't pissed me off. Yet, anyways. Although, it is quite alarming how eager you were to talk to me. To risk being seen with me, especially near campus, just seems odd; unless you have other ideas. Like, I don't know, dropping me off the side of the highway or in a ditch somewhere."

"Why on earth would I do that?"

Lifting my shoulders, I looked out the window, my fingers drumming against the door handle. "I mean, they are your friends. More of your friends than mine nowadays."

"No." He made a face. "I wouldn't say that; Benji ignored me after he started dating Lauren. It's always 'Lauren this, Lauren that.' He barely responds to any of us in the group chat. You saw them at lunch, glued to each other's side."

Suppressing a laugh, a series of memories of Benji and me resurfaced. We had once been called two peas in a pod; me, a jam to his jelly, or pairing milk with cookies.

"We were like that," I muttered unintentionally, before clarifying, "glued to each other's sides for nearly twelve years."

"That's why I just can't see why he'd let that happen." He clenched the steering wheel so tightly, the whites of his knuckles were visible. "I didn't think they could be so violent, either. Especially to you. I mean, the whole team hung out with you."

"Well, I hadn't expected it either. Especially from Benji." I sighed. "I guess he didn't like that I was going to the dance with Harvey. Or that I was going with a guy, to begin with."

"Harvey? That kid that kissed you near the field?" There was a weird, almost annoyed tone in his voice.

"Yeah," I said sheepishly.

Mason let out a frustrated sigh, raising a fisted hand as if he was about to pound his steering wheel before defeatedly uncurling his fist to steer the car. "That's ridiculous."

At the light, he turned left, pulling away from the direction toward my house. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere to talk, unless you'd rather go home?" He tilted his head. "I can turn around if you'd like."

"No, it's fine. That park is pretty secluded." I pointed off in the distance. "I don't think high-schoolers go there after school."

"Worried about being seen?"

"Aren't you?" I scoffed. "You have an openly gay guy in your car. Isn't the risk greater for you, mister star football player?"

He let out a curt laugh, the sly smile remaining on his face as he neared the turn to the park. "You wouldn't be the first gay guy in my car."

My head whipped so fast. "Oh?"

"A story for another time." He waved a hand as if to brush it off before pulling into a parking spot. "Besides, this isn't your first time in my car."

"True." My eyes narrowed. "So, what should we talk about?"

He held his palm out. "You knew Benjamin the longest—"

"Well, now I'm not so sure I knew him at all."

"Yeah, I guess. There's got to be a reason for Benji being like this." He sighed. "You don't just hurt your best friend like that. I thought he was fine with your sexuality; the team said he got defensive when people treated you differently."

My lips pursed. There weren't enough fingers to count the number of times he stepped in for me. It hadn't been limited to just about sexuality either; he'd glare at anyone mentioning how I was a nerd, or short, or an oddball for being around these buff football players all the time. "Yeah, I thought he was fine with it too. He probably believes being around queer people will only negatively affect his plans for football or his own love life."

Mason shook his head. "That's so naive. You can't just pass it onto someone like some disease."

"Tell me about it."

"Is he afraid that you'll like him? Try to make a move on him?" Mason drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to think of any reason for this to be justified. "I mean unless he's your type, but still, that doesn't justify bullying."

I bit my lip a bit harshly. If only you knew that Benji was exactly my type. Benji was the epitome of my type—before all this shit, of course—but he couldn't have known that.

Or did he?

Had Benji realized something in that dense brain of his? Was I not subtle enough to hide that silly crush I had developed over the eleven and a half years of growing up with each other? And if he did, was he repulsed by the idea of me liking him? Was that so wrong in his mind that it warranted a bruised side and verbal insults?

"Ollie?" I jerked my head to Mason, who looked at me curiously. "You alright?"

With a nod, I looked out the window, hoping Mason wouldn't catch onto my lying. Of course, I wasn't alright, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it.

"He's been ignoring you too," I said weakly. "You two seemed to hit it off when you first got here."

He hummed. "Yeah, until Lauren happened."

"Maybe there's trouble in paradise?" I said. "Hence the lashing out and ignoring his friends. Maybe the perfect couple isn't as perfect as they seem?"

"What would that have to do with you, though?"

I shrugged. "Maybe I'm just the easy target. He knows I'm not the type to get teachers involved and wouldn't ruin his reputation like that."

"You wouldn't?"

I couldn't meet Mason's gaze. "I couldn't do that to him, not after all that he's done for me. Before this whole situation, anyways."

"But he's bullying you, Ollie."

"He didn't throw the punch—"

Mason turned in his seat to face me directly, an unreadable expression on his face. "And if he does, will you then?"

"I—I probably wouldn't." My stomach twisted, knowing how bad that sounded, but it was the truth. Unlike Benji, I wouldn't dare throw a friendship in his face like that.

"Ollie." Mason's tone was gentle, yet I could tell it was bordering on condescending. "That's—this is serious. What if he breaks your arm or leg? You're just going to let it go?"

"You don't understand," I said in a hushed tone. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I," I faltered. "I just can't."

He shook his head. "He's bullying you, Ollie. You can't let this happen and just let him get away with it."

"I can't do that to him." I gulped. "Our friendship means more to me than that. I can't just throw that away."

Feelings and our years of secrets and growing up wasn't something I could throw away. I had become who I was because of Benji in a way. Yeah, we were different in so many ways, and even now, with this giant chasm separating us, I couldn't help but remember the good things we had. He had been there as I realized who I was, from my horrible fashion decisions in middle school to discovering my sexuality. He had been there.

And then, there was, of course, the bigger answer. The years I realized my feelings toward Benjamin had been more than just what regular guy friends felt toward each other.

"I don't understand." His face searched for the answer, but it was so complicated.

How does someone even explain what a friendship like this had meant? Or how having a crush on said friend made things that more complicated? Was it as complicated as it seemed? Would Mason even begin to understand what that was like?

But who else could I have told someone about something like this? Everybody had known Benji and I as a dynamic duo growing up. They would look at me differently, at the both of us. 

But Mason was different, time-wise, he had hardly known us. 

So, with a sigh, I told him about my big fat gay crush on Benjamin I had, one that I still wasn't sure I had stamped out.

"You like Benjamin?" Mason repeated slowly. "Like, really like him?"

"Did," I corrected, not even sure if that was true anymore. Deep down, a long-term crush wasn't something I could completely let go of. I had seen all the things Benjamin had done for me, all the things he was capable of; he was still the same person, right? It sounded outrageous, but there was still an ounce of hope that maybe he'd go back to the protective, caring friend he had been growing up with. "But, yeah. It was stupid, and—and a long time ago."

"Oh."

Despite how scared I was of Mason's reaction, it felt nice to tell someone finally. Was it a poor choice of a person to tell? Sure. Would I regret that decision? Most likely. But Mason was more reasonable than I had been led to believe. He seemed to at least have some decency and common sense.

He blinked before asking, "so he doesn't know?"

Well, some common sense.

"No," I said. "And I don't want him to, ever."

"Reasonable."

"I mean it, Mason."

He held up his pinky finger with an unamused look on his face. "I won't tell him, I promise."

"Good."

"But, I think you really should tell someone about the bullying, especially if it gets worse."

My lips pulled up into a smirk. "I just did, didn't I?"

"You know what I meant." He narrowed his eyes. "A teacher or counselor. This shouldn't keep happening."

I rolled my eyes but nodded, extending my pinky to his. "Fine. I'll tell someone if they do it again. Promise."

"Good." We interlaced our pinkie fingers before he started up the car again. "Hungry?"

"Starved."

"Well, what would you like to eat, new best friend?" I cringed before we both laughed at how that sounded. Between laughs, he said, "that was terrible, wasn't it."

"Yeah, it sure was," I mocked as he headed off on the main road. "Surprise me, friend."