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34. double-dates and nervous confessions.

Needed Me -Rihanna

|34.| double dates and nervous confessions.

"What's got you looking all girly?" My mom's voice had interrupted as I cleaned the my camera lenses for the ninth time in a row. I was dressed up -or as dressed up as I could be for a movie date- my legs were in some fitted high-waited jeans that my mom had passed down to me. Despite the fact that we were twenty years apart, we shared somewhat the same physique: wide hips and small waists. Jeans rarely fit me properly so I never really wore them unless they were baggy.

I'd also been wearing a tight tan long-sleeve mock-turtle-neck, gold bracelets lining my right wrist as well as a few rings on my fingers. But what really got my mom must've been the patterned scarf and heeled ankle-boots that were most-definitely hers. Her arms were crossed over her large chest that I sadly did not inherit and I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious.

Must've been my already anxious energy. Scrubbing over the lens in my hand again, I sighed.

"I have a date." The thought of Oliver put a smile on my face despite my worrying and I convinced myself that he loved my body. I mean, he had made sure to inform me of that every time he could, I was glad the neck of my shirt was high enough to cover the hickies he'd left on me last time we were alone together.

But still, this was our first official date as a couple, excluding all the hang outs that he deemed not a date. He said he wanted to actually take me out, actually show me how much I meant to him with cheesy movies and hand-holding. And, I mean, that was another thing I loved about Oliver. Stormy eyes and a cute smile, light freckles that seemed even more noticeable as Christmas approached. The bashful way he smiled after small signs of affection-

Tightening my grip on my lens, I jumped when it nearly slid out of my hands. I had it bad.

My mom looked surprised, her eyes going wide and I finally realized that Oliver had only met my parents as a friend. They didn't know that we were dating yet, "That white boy that came over and played video games with Jackson?" I hadn't realized my dad was in the room as well until I looked up, that man was silent but deadly or at least, that's what he wanted you to believe.

Twining his arms around my mother's body, he rested his chin on top of her head and I smiled, calming down a bit. Lately, they seemed to be getting better, always showing some sort of affection and I was sure it had to do with my mom's blow up the week before.

"What white boy?" He'd questioned, eyes staring straight into my soul and I averted my gaze, "Oliver Remmer?" And that made me gulp, wondering what he would say. Oliver hadn't really been over my house since his most-recent arrest and my dad being in the psychology field, I was sure he'd heard about that. He couldn't stop me from seeing Oliver when we just got together, especially after the fight we were getting over.

We were close now, he was mine and I loved him.

"Yeah dad," I sighed, thinking about how dumb I'd sound if I told my parents that I loved an ex-juvenile delinquent. "That is the one."

And the smile on my dad's face shocked me, I didn't expect it nor did I expect what came out of his mouth afterwards. "Okay."

Matching his smile but instead with wide eyes, my mom looked up at him leaning the back of her head on his chest and slapping it with the back of her hand in excitement before turning back towards me, "Ooo, I like him, he's cute." At that I laughed, knowing that Oliver reminded her of Dad, she'd always taught us to find someone who'd treat us right, didn't matter what they looked like.

But someone's mental health always mattered to my dad, he was always worried about people and most of all, he always worried about me and Jackson so that's why it confused me when he simply let it go that I was dating Oliver Remmer. Oliver Remmer: notorious for putting people in hospitals. I mean, I knew Oliver wouldn't hurt me but... "You're not mad?"

My dad went silent at that as if he was thinking, mulling over whether or not he'd been mad and all his contemplating was freaking me out until he looked back at me. "Does he respect you?"

My palms were clammy and my throat was dry from worrying about the date and then worrying about my dad's reaction but I couldn't have been more sure of my answer. "Yeah." From the way he always made sure I was okay with how he was, how many times he'd held doors for me and made sure I felt safe around him and that was my dad's next question.

"He hasn't scared you or anything, you feel safe around him?"

"Extremely safe, Oliver's not just some violent guy." I was sure about that, sure I'd been scared once, after Ceaser's conflict no doubt but that wasn't of him specifically, just what would happen to him. I was worried about him more than worried for myself, I'd never feared that he'd hit me or harm me on purpose, never. "He's gotten a hold on things, been taking his pills, he's getting better." And he was, he'd met with Aaima once a week now, he'd gotten into volunteer work lately, he cared more about his education. Oliver was helping himself, he was caring for himself and that made me love him even more.

And he sighed, tightening his arms around my mom and I could tell just how hard this was for him. "You're almost eighteen, almost out of here and I can't protect you from everything even if I try and damn sure I'm going to try." I laughed at that, realizing that in a few months I was going to graduate, I really was almost an adult -kind of- soon, I'd be out of the house. "I'm always gonna worry about you but that's gonna be the same with everyone you date. You're a pretty girl, Em, boys are going to see that."

My mom agreed and I could feel my cheeks heating even though you probably couldn't see it, "And Oliver seems like such a good guy, I've seen the way he looks at you and looks after you. He does little things that your dad used to do, reasons I fell in love with him."

"I love you too, baby." his voice was gentle and that made me smile, they'd been so much better lately, everything had been so much better lately and things were falling into place.

"You better."

"Be careful with him," my dad warned, interrupting my mom's gushing and I nodded at that but he wasn't finished. With his eyes locked on mine, he showed that "you're my little girl, we raised you to respect yourself and never settle for someone who doesn't respect. I think we did a great job and although I don't think you'll find someone who loves you as much as we do..."

"I carried your ass for nine months and went through sixteen hours of labor to get you here, ain't no one love you as much as I love you, Bug." My mom spoke just above a whisper, smiling in my direction and I'd never felt more grateful for her.

And my dad finished off, "even if its impossible for him to love you as much as we do," he disregarded the embarrassed smile on my face and continued, "this Remmer kid... my coworker says he's getting better in his therapy, says you're all he talks about and how much he loves you which is the only reason I'm letting you go."

And fuck, I really loved him, but how did my dad... "You know about..." he's a fucking therapist, Em, of course he knows. "I always forget you're a shrink."

"I'm a Psychologist not a shrink." He'd corrected as always and rolled his eyes, fighting a small smile.

"Same thing."

And rolling his eyes again, he set out the ground rules I'd been waiting for. "I want you back by ten, you call me if anything happens and you carry money on you at all times, make sure your phone is charged."

"What is this a spy investigation or a date?"

Ignoring that question, I looked over to see my mom shaking her head at him. He still wasn't finished and that was clear when he kept talking. "No later than ten, I'm serious." We all know you're serious, Dad.

"Eleven." I'd tried to bargain, not wanting to break curfew because the last time Jackson had, his whooping came as soon as he got in the door and he was grounded for a month.  I wasn't looking to have my ass beat or my parents hating Oliver before he'd even met them as my boyfriend.

"Ten thirty." My mom suggested and I was quick to agree, leaving my dad standing there staring at her in shock.

"Tammy!"

"Oh, let her live a little, Rod." Smacking his chest lightly when he refused to talk to her, she tried to bargain, "it's not like she's dumb enough to get into trouble with that extra thirty minutes." And I was gonna yell out in protest, really about to defend my own intelligence when the door bell rang.

Why the fuck was I so nervous?

"That's him, do I look okay?" Who am I? This is Oliver, I never dressed up for Oliver... but this was our first official date and I wanted him to think I was pretty, you know girly shit. Looking quickly at my mirrror, I fixed my hair, patting my head to make sure the braided headband was still in place at the very front and the rest of my curls were perfectly fluffed out. Ever since I'd gotten more comfortable with my hair and Oliver expressed how much he liked it, I started to wear it in more styles, less buns and less straightening.

Grabbing my pic -or the pic i'd stolen from Jackson- I made sure my curls were big before going over my edges with a little more edge control.

It was a second day wash and go and all I could think was: Please don't frizz up on me today.

"You look beautiful, baby." my dad's voice was soft behind me and I locked eyes with my parents in the mirror, a little embarrassed from my actions. I'd never been this caught up, this worried about what a guy thought of me...

"Thanks, Dad." Going to put on my coat, I made sure it looked good with the outfit before turning to my mom for her input, she might've been forty but she could dress.

She smiled at me nodding before her eyes lit up. "Wait, here," pulling the hoops from her ears, she moved over to place them in my first holes, the gold studs she'd bought me for my last birthday, already in the seconds. Clipping in the back, she stepped back to make sure it looked okay and I bit my lip hoping she'd love it, "perfect."

At that, the doorbell rang again and I picked up my black sling back from my bed, popping my chapstick, phone, wallet, and lipgloss in it. I could hear my mom hollering from my room as I ran down the steps to catch my brother on the couch playing 2k, when did he ever not play 2k? "Jack Jack, movie night!"

"You couldn't even open the door?" I almost yelled when I realized that Oliver was standing on my porch in thirty degree weather.

"Nah, do I look like a slave?"

Laughing at that, I went to open the door and Oliver instantly stepped into the warmth of my house even though we were probably going to leave as soon as he did. "A house one, yes." I answered over my shoulder, listening to my brother's large cackle as Oliver shut the door behind him. Internally, I thanked him because I wasn't looking forward to a 'you're letting out all the hot air,' lecture from my mom.

"Shut up, you lightskin too."

Oliver chuckled at the way my brother shot up from his seat right after he said that, screaming out at the game and my mom quickly yelled to shut him up.

"Quit all that hollering in my damn house before I give you something to scream about!"

Biting my lip at that, I wanted to stick around to see my brother get yelled at some more but I just knew they'd grill Oliver with questions. "Hey," he'd greeted simply, eyes meeting mine and I forgot all about my brother until he looked past me, "Hey, Jack."

"S'up?" That clearly was a rhetorical question and Oliver could tell as my brother got more invested into his game, calling a time out just to dap him up yet still not removing his eyes from the screen.

Smiling over at my boyfriend when he'd looked back at me, I noticed how red his nose was and reached for his hand. Intertwining it with mine, I wondered why he didn't wear gloves. I mean, I didn't wear gloves either but his fingers felt like little icicles. "Hey yourself, cold?"

"A little." He spoke up and I thought about how much warmer his car probably would be.

"Okay, why don't we get to the car-"

It seemed like every time we were at my house, someone always interrupted but Oliver didn't seem to mind. I however was trying to figure out how my mom could be so hypocritical about being loud when she was the loudest person on the block. "Rod, pop the popcorn!"

"Please, please take me with you..." my brother's voice was soft and pleading and I looked down into begging brown eyes. And then I remembered the literally that morning he'd licked my breakfast bagel and all remorse was wiped.

Waving my fingers, I smiled wide proceeding towards the door with Oliver in tow. "Bye Jack."

"Nooooooo."

I didn't expect anything of it but living with Jackson for fifteen years, I should have. When I felt my ankle being tugged from the ground and I almost fell, I gripped onto oliver for support and when I was balanced I reared my head back, turning to look at my brother holding tightly onto the skin between my ankle boot and my jeans. "What the heck, let me go." Kicking at him, I tried to wiggle out of his grip as he laid on the floor, game controller discarded. "Jacky."

"Nigga," he'd replied back, my hand going to claw his away and he shrunk back, letting go, "they gonna try and hug me again."

"And?"

That made him look at me as if I was dumb, as if I were the one who just dove on the floor to stop him from leaving the house. "Do you know how many times they've hugged me since last week? Em, come on." I could hear Oliver laughing a little and I couldn't help but smile.

"Love you but no."

And when I was out of the house, down the steps and in Oliver's car buckling up, I could see my brother through the window and his yell was loud enough for me to hear him. "Emerson!"

⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄

He was wearing his piercings and I'd worn my hair curly, his hands wouldn't stop twirling my hair and I was starting to love it. Oliver had made it known on multiple occasions that he absolutely loved my natural hair, even with the heat damage I'd suffered and the slight color damage. I couldn't wait to cut off my dead ends and re-dye it back to black.

Maybe a big chop sometime soon, maybe I'd shave my head.

"Hey, what if I cut all my hair off?" I'd asked, playing with the ends of my curls, would I look good with short hair?

"Do you want to?" he'd asked nonchalantly and that made me smile, he seemed open to it, as if he couldn't care less and that was the sweetest thing to me so I sighed. Cutting my hair off wasn't something I'd seriously thought about, I loved my hair... a lot but maybe someday a fresh start would be nice and it felt great to know that my boyfriend didn't mind.

"I don't know," I'd shrugged and his fingers came up to play with a strand as we sat in his driveway waiting for Elliot to come out and grace us with his presence.

"Well, I think you'll look beautiful either way, my opinion doesn't even matter, it's what makes you happy that's what matters." Pushing a hand to my forehead, he pulled my curls out of my face and bit his lip as he jokingly inspected it before laughing, "If you wanna cut your hair, I support it, I'd love you and your big head regardless." Hitting his shoulder in payment of how he made my heart skip a beat, I laughed as well, watching Elliot exit the house.

"Where're we going?" I'd asked when his brother had finally made his way to the car, barely greeting me but that was how Elliot had always been. He'd been invested in his phone when he slid in the backseat, the bench-seat in the front forgotten.

I wasn't complaining though, this seat allowed me to sit closer to Oliver, turned towards him instead of my phone that was plugged into the aux. He spoke nonchalantly, answering my question and I don't think I could've held back my smile. "First official stop on the journey to make you love me."

"Oliver..." I hadn't let him know that I loved him yet, whether or not I was waiting for the right time, I didn't know. I also didn't know why I was so scared as if he didn't already make it clear how he felt about me.

"I'm taking you on that date." He'd answered clearly when I made no indication that I had anything to say.

"Well duh, why do you think I dressed nice?"

He didn't even spare me a glace but instead his hand settled on my thigh and I tried not to squirm thinking about things that shouldn't have been thought about on the first date. But it hit me that we'd had sex already and we weren't the traditional couple so these thoughts weren't that bad or out of context. "You always dress nice."

"Oh, bullshit."

"You do..." and his hand left me, the warmth that he placed there vanishing as he made a turn out of the complex. "We're gonna go pick up Jovie and hopefully that'll make Eli a little less antisocial."

"Works for me." I'd seen some script on the back of his neck, "What's this?" My fingers were playing in his little waves at the base of his neck and I went to pull the collar down a bit to see the tattoo a little better.

"Uh," gently jerking away from me, he bit at his lip and that only made me more anxious, "a new tattoo."

"Let me see." Laughing a little at the way he jerked away, I held his neck softly, finger brushing over one of the marks I'd left on him nights prior and watched as he reluctantly sunk into my touch. Pulling his collar down a little to see what I'd expected to be a misspelling or something embarrassing, my eyes widened. Sitting down properly in the seat, my mouth was wide and we'd sat there in silence for a little bit. Pulling my phone off the dashboard, I unplugged the aux and tried to busy myself with Twitter so I wouldn't blow up.

I was uncomfortable and I could tell he was too so I tried to think it over before saying anything to make it worse.

Until I couldn't take it anymore, all I could hear was the muffled music coming from Elliot's headphones in the back and it was giving me a headache. "When'd you get it?"

"I was drunk, Em." But what the hell did he drink to make that seem like a good idea?

"Tattoos are permanent, Oliver." I was being a bitch about it, I know but I couldn't help but worry that he'd regret it one day.

"I know."

But he didn't get it, "you obviously don't, it's my fucking name." Our relationship had been rocky, we were just getting better and he had a tattoo of my name written in the back of his neck in permanent ink. It said Emerson in some pretty cursive font that I was sure he sat forever getting done and he didn't even seem to feel bad.

"I can read." He'd snapped and I sighed at that, leaning back in the bench seat as he closed the little clear partition in between us and Elliot. When it was clear his brother couldn't hear us, he spoke softer and gripped the steering wheel, "I'm not stupid, Emerson."

"Well, this clearly wasn't the smartest thing you've ever done!" What if we broke up? What if he hated me because I was permanently etched onto his fucking skin and he resented me for it? What about his relationships that could happen after me? I'd be mad if Jacie's name was written across his neck.

How didn't I notice? Last time he'd gotten drunk was during our huge fight and it'd been weeks since then. And we had sex but lets be real, I wasn't focused on the back of his neck as he dicked me down nor was I focused while riding his ass into the sunset.

"Could you stop yelling at me?" He'd asked and I realized just how mean I was being. With a softer tone, he asked: "Please?"

Sighing, I placed my phone back where it was before looking back over at him. "Look, I'm sorry for yelling I uh, I just don't want you to make a mistake." All that I was thinking about was what if things ended bad between us? I'd feel extremely guilty if he couldn't be happy due to my name gnawing at his neck.

"I get that but you'd never be a mistake." And he took my hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing softly on my skin, gray-green eyes staring straight forward and I felt the urge to kiss his lips, mine were jealous of my own damn hand. God, my heart jumped in my chest.

"What if we break up, Oli?"

And he laughed at that, almost as if hat weren't possible, my heart for sure did that weird jumpy thing again. "Then this is a reminder of the person that got me out of all my hate." Stop making me fall in love with you. "Even if we don't end up together... you're always gonna be important to me. I'm always gonna love you."

Trying not to seem as lovestruck as I was, I took the opportunity to move my hand and playfully push his head with my fist, not enough to get his eyes off the road but to get him to laugh and let me go. "Stop turning everything into poetry, you sap." I was laughing as well too as his free hand made it's way back to my thigh.

"Your laugh is so cute, man." He'd spoken and the smile wouldn't leave my face when he looked over at me in slight awe and he cussed under his breath.

So trying to get out of the spotlight before he crashed the car, I sat back, thankful my smile had shrunk and I played with the little rips in the seat I was sitting on. With a bark of laughter, I poked fun at him, "That's funny. The first time I heard you laugh, I almost had a heart attack."

"That wouldn't have been good for my reputation." And thinking back to that day, I couldn't believe how far we'd come.

"True."

⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄

"...Worst fear?"

He'd looked down at that, stirring his spoon in his hot chocolate and he seemed to be thinking. Resting my head on my chin, I admired his features: calculating eyes and plump lips, hair that wouldn't stay off his face, a cute pointy nose that always looked like he put highlighter on it and those little freckles that weren't that prominent but the light we were sitting under made them appear clearer.

We'd been at that sit down restaurant for a good hour then, Oliver paying since I paid for the movie -he used a coupon cause save your money- and Elliot and Jovie sat a few feet away but however cheesy, it felt like we were the only people in the world.

"Clowns. You?" And I imagined 'bad boy, Remmer,' running away from clowns. I'd have to take him to the carnival when it came into town, help him get over that

"Heights." I'd answered and I thought about trapeze artists since the topic of circuses were in my head, how did they do it? "Favorite song?"

"Well Therapy but you know that, so... right now, Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier." And I wasn't surprised by that, it was playing in his car when he'd picked me up.

"He gets so into his music, man, I love him." Thinking about the song I'd sang to in the shower getting ready for this date, I answered, "Caroline by Amine."

"You have to show me it." He'd said and I almost died laughing and then I remembered... he wasn't black. "What's your favorite flavor?" He'd broken the little rhythm we had going on but I didn't mind, picking up his drink and taking a sip since he'd gotten some syrup put in his hot chocolate... weird.

"Vanilla."

And jokingly, he gave me a suspicious kid of look, "I'm unsure if you're serious or if that's just a play on me being white."

"Both."

"Well, I have a thing for chocolate. Chocolate cake, ice-cream, girls..." My laugh after that was so loud, I'm sure the other people in the restaurant were staring but I didn't care. Oliver blushed, "That was so corny, I'm sorry."

Wheezing through my cackles, I tried to stop but I couldn't. I didn't know if he thought that was smooth before it came out of his mouth but it was so cringe-worthy, "Ew, oh my god, never say it again. You sound like the first white boy I've ever dated, he fetishized the hell out of me."

And that was true, raised-racist Evan was trying so hard to prove he wasn't racist to me, he ended up calling me his little chocolate goddess. We'd broken up an hour later.

"I take it back." "Favorite artist?"

And we went on like that until nine-thirty rolled around, Oliver driving us back home and dropping Jovie off before his brother. We spent the next hour in the park just talking, learning so much about each other, so many little facts. But the little facts meant the most, not the fact itself but that we were having these little conversations.

"...You're beautiful, you know that?" God, that made my heart so warm, a huge blanket wrapped around us and I wanted to voice how dumb it was but he was making me feel so important that I didn't care about the possible frostbite.

"You're cheesy, you know that?"

Laughing, he placed a little kiss on my forehead, wrapping his arms around me. "You tell me everyday."

"I want to get a tattoo..." I was tracing over his on his arm, he'd gotten his entire free forearm done, a forest sitting there and I hadn't noticed until I'd pushed his sleeve up a little. It was new, I could tell from the way he still had the plastic wrapped around it and his skin looked irritated.

"Really?" He'd asked, looking over at me as he munched through the leftovers from the restaurant: lukewarm chicken alfredo because he didn't feel like going into his house. Lucky that I'd worn a thick jacket or I'd be cutting his little fantasy date short. Why did it seem like every time we went out, it was freezing?

"Yeah, I don't know... I think they look cool, you know?" I'd asked although not really asking and I contemplated what I wanted. Maybe a bird cage or my parent's name or a camera or-

"Yeah. I might actually get something on my back... I really like mechanical like under the skin..."

That excited me a little too much and I sat on my feet a little, eyes wide. "You mean that cool thing with the gears and shit?"

"And the ripping flesh, yes."

I really wanted to see them tattooing that on him, try and figure out how they did it, maybe take a few pictures if they let me. "Can I go with you to get it?"

"Of course." Tangling his hand in mine, I relaxed and sat back down, tossing my legs over his and cuddling into his side as he rested back on his hands. "Bobby's a little harsh though."

The girl he told me sold drugs? That Bobby? I didn't want her near anything that could go into his goddamn skin, not needles, no. "Bobby? The girl who sells?" I clarified.

"Yeah, Rebecca really but she'd bury me alive if she heard me say that; she also does all of my tattoos... Gave me the idea of this one because she says I get wimpy tats." And seeing how fondly he talked over her, little laugh coming out after, I realized that it wasn't my place to tell him who to talk to and I shouldn't have been worried.

He trusted her, I trusted her.

"You kind of do." I'd joked and at that, he gave me this look that I couldn't resist teasing him further.

"I don't." He'd whined, God, he was so cute.

Mocking his whine, I laughed, him pushing me off him and crossing his arms; at that moment his jacket was so puffy, he looked like the Pillsbury dough man and I couldn't help but coo, "You do."

"Well, there goes your compliment on how nice you look right now."

At that, my eyes widened, "I look nice?"

"Nope." Popping the p, he turned away and by then it seemed like everything he did and said was funny. Keeping a straight face, I feigned offense.

"Wait, really?"

Narrowing his eyes as if he were offended that I could even think he meant it, he scoffed, "Shut up, you know you're fucking gorgeous."

"Thanks for the compliment, Princess."

He laughed but it wasn't a normal laugh. This small laugh sent chills up my spine; a dopey grin flashed across my face as he took my manicured hand in his. Pulling it up, he kissed my thumb, my heart beating a little faster. And the way he smiled over at me had my mind fuzzy.

It hit me most when he'd told me he loved me as we were laying back on the black blanket, right before he walked me home, and I couldn't open my mouth without wanting to reply back with "me too."

Almost instantly, his breath hitched and my heart had stopped beating. I didn't really mean for it to come out, didn't really think about it until I'd said it and his entire face had lit up. There was this glint in his eyes, huge smile on his face and I found myself admiring everything including the little scar underneath his eye and the blemish left from his last fight. His skin wasn't fully clear and I didn't mind it, a small breakout forming but I didn't care.

Smiling as well, I bit at my lip and he laughed. Gripping the sides of my face, he'd planted a kiss on my lips, one that had me weak in the knees before he buried his head in the crook of my neck.

"You really love me?"

And I backed away, kissing him again as if to cement my statement.

To say his smile was beautiful was an understatement.

⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄

Oliver had cleaned up everything wrong in his life, miraculously. No, not everything was fixed but things were progressively getting better and after a log winter break, we'd gotten back to school the new year with his real, new me persona.

It seemed as if everything was falling into place and by the time February rolled around, everyone knew we were dating and everyone understood not to mess with him. Oliver, he even seemed happier but the one thing wrong in his life... well, the one thing we could fix... had to be his grade in Psych. I'd brought mine up to a B on my own but I utterly sucked at tutoring or teaching so he was stuck at that D that Ms. Cadigan had thrown him in order to get him to the next quarter.

He couldn't coast by on 'not necessarily failing,' for too long so I wasn't surprised when he'd brought it up at lunch, I was just surprised as to how he did, "I wanna talk to him."

Sidney had been having a conversation with Luca about some weird trend going around when Oliver had zoned out, he was staring at something but with the cafeteria so crowded, I couldn't tell what. "Who?" I'd queried, understanding that there were a lot of people he had bad blood with and offering up names would dampen his mood.

"Jeremy. I wanna tell him why I left him and I wanna apologize." That shocked me, Oliver had seemed to forget about Jeremy but I guess not. I hadn't heard that name in a solid three months.

"Are you sure?" I'd tested the waters, knowing how their last encounter went down, was he sure he was ready for whatever Jeremy would say to him? "He said some things that were out of line..."

"He was there for me, he supported me when no one else did and I turned by back on him. I deserve his hate."

And he seemed adamant so nodding, I stood and held my hand out, "Whatever you want, I'll support you, do you want to talk to him now?" When he copied my actions, I'd walked him over to Jeremy's table, stares following but people were slowly becoming less interested in Oliver Remmer. Squeezing his hand, I rounded the table first and he followed after.

It was silent, well except Jeremy who was talking about the newest episode of The Big Bang Theory, Sidney watched that show. Standing there, I waited for Oliver to say something but one of Jeremy's friends had pointed behind him, gulping before my boyfriend could even open his mouth.

All eyes were on us and I gripped his hand a little tighter, feeling him pull me closer and I sighed, trying to give him courage. We stood there for a little while, his trying to figure out what to say first as Jeremy rolled his eyes, all his friends frightened. The complete and utter gawking died but the terror and rumors sure hadn't.

Whispering in Oliver's ear, I encouraged him by telling him little things like how much I loved him and how much I cared.

He'd stuttered out his first words, "H-hi," and I could feel him tense knowing that he'd made himself look weaker than he wanted to.

Jeremy gave him no remorse, just sitting there with a blank look, until he smirked, "I see you brought your leash-"

"Jeremy." I'd cut him off, knowing that Oliver wouldn't continue if Jeremy started with his insulting and redirecting. They needed to settle this shit before they graduated or else Oliver wouldn't forgive himself, I was sure, especially if something happened to his ex-best friend.

"If you came back for tutoring, it's kind of pointless now." The boy in question droned on, his friends looking at him as if he were crazy and I kind of felt like this was something to discuss in private but then again, Oliver's business always somehow ended up circling around the school.

"I want to apologize."

"W-what?" Yeah, you little bitch. "You're sorry?"

And he told the short version of the story he told me, no doubt they'd be speaking later and I'd be there through everything, "They told me to stay away from you, that you needed to get better, I wanted you to get better."

"I needed you." His voice was less confident then and I kid of felt bad, his eyes were looking down kind of ashamed and Oliver had let go of my hand to take the empty seat next to him. I stayed standing there just in case he needed me.

"I know and I'm sorry." My baby was sitting there stumbling over words but they were getting somewhere. "I-I wasn't thinking, actually, I was overthinking and I was just really paranoid that I'd fuck up."

"I started failing. My grades started slipping because of therapy and nothing was turning out right and I wanted to die a-and I needed you."

A sad smile was on Oliver's face and his hand slipped back into mine, eyes looking into Jeremy and he assured him with a nod, Jeremy smiling as well. "I'll be there if you'll let me. And quick because I'm kind of teetering between failing and graduating."

A/N:

GUYS I'VE HAD THE WORST TIME WITH THIS CHAPTER BUT IT'S FINALLY DONE, HELLOOOOO ONE MOREEEEE. Doesn't have to end here though, go check out Elliot's story: Pyromaniac where he learns that walking in Oliver's shadow actually fucking sucks.

And we're almost at 15k of you amazing babes x can't wait to celebrate our anniversary with 15k (pleeeaseee)

Updated: Wednesday, March 15

Let's recap on the most emotional scene for you in this book. What did you cry over? I was so sad writing Oliver's drunken call and Jan's emotional breakdown, my babies.

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