Chapter 20 - Oliver

18 YEARS OLD

I channel my inner soccer kid and run away from the bleachers like someone lit my ass on fire, and I don't stop until I'm back inside the cafeteria. There's a group of kids hovering in a corner, exchanging money. I know who they are, and maybe I shouldn't do this, but I walk right up to them. Then I wipe my face before they notice how distraught I am.

My hands shake uncontrollably, though I can't tell if it's from anger or heartbreak, probably both. It feels like I was just stabbed in the heart, and there's a lump in my throat the size of North America, and I can't seem to swallow past it. It's not even about my pride being hurt, it's about my trust being broken.

How could he tell me he loves me, just to turn around and do that ?

The way he shoved me off him, I could see the reality of our situation shining brightly from his green eyes. I was reflected there, a hammer to my soaring hope. But it was all fake to begin with; I should've never believed him when he said he would come out for me. Now look at me, bleeding from gaping wounds. One to my back and the other to my heart.

"Who the fuck are you?" the kid in charge questions, eyeing me up and down with disdain. I know they keep it on the low, not wanting to get caught by the faculty. So they're probably confused as to why I'm here—having never made a move to reach out before.

"You got some pot?" I ask slowly. Maybe if I smoke later I'll feel a little better. I don't usually smoke—however, today feels like an exception.

"You don't look like a pot guy," he replies with a smirk. "I'll do you one better."

"How?" I narrow my eyes on him as he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a little Ziplock bag full of pills.

"Oxy," he tells me. "On the house."

"Why?" Oxy? Isn't that like super addictive? Well, it's just one time. I only need it today to feel better.

"You look like you need it." He shrugs. "Next time you come to me—it won't be free."

"There won't be a next time."

"We'll see."

The rest of the day goes by slowly, my leg shaking with a mix of desperation and anticipation. I just want to get home so I can get this over with. Hunter saw me in the hallway next to my French Class and tried to talk to me, but I sped up and closed the distance between myself and the door faster than ever. I swear people were looking at me funny as I hurried through the room to find my desk, but I didn't care enough about any of it. All that mattered was the way Hunter fucked me over. The way he rejected me in front of Michael. Not that I should've expected any less.

I'm glad French is my last class for the day, especially since I can't continue to go through this day numb and spaced out, thinking about getting home to take the drugs to feel better. Deep down, I know this is a horrible idea, yet I also know I'm not gonna stop myself. I need to feel better. Even if it's short-lived.

All I know is that I'm stupid.

So, so stupid.

Finally at home, I run up the stairs and lock my door, then sit on my bed. I pull out the baggie of pills and take one out, turning it over and over in my hand as I stare at it. Just one. That's all I'll need. I don't know why he gave me ten of them—it makes no sense if I'm not going to take them.

I take a deep breath and swallow the pill dry, lying back on the bed, and then I just…wait for it to hit me. It's taking forever, until suddenly it's not.

My body is floating on a cloud of bliss yet sinking into the mattress at the same time. Taking in air, my lungs expand. It's shallow yet slower. My heart thumps in my ears, a slow drum roll that I can't ignore. And yet…none of it turns me off. I crave the feeling of numbness. A smile tips up my lips, and I close my eyes, relaxing into the mattress until I swear I fall asleep.

There's a soft knock at the door, and I try to pry my eyes open, but it feels like they're stuck together. I stiffen, knowing no one is supposed to be home for a long time. Is it my dad? Lucy? But no, they're both working at this time. They're always working.

The bathroom door isn't locked, so I wait for the inevitable.

I hear as the doorknob turns, but I can't move. The pill I took is hitting me hard. Harder than I thought it would for just being one. Then again, it is my first time.

Light footsteps make the floorboards creak, and I manage to open my eyes. Hunter is standing next to the bed, searching my face, and he looks like he's seen a ghost. I frown, and he kneels beside me on the bed and pushes my hair away from my sweaty forehead. His eyes bore into mine, and I watch silently as the puzzle clicks into place and he realizes what's happening. Immediately, his face hardens.

"What did you take, Oliver?"

I flinch and shift in slow motion.

"What did you do, baby?"

My body relaxes into the bed once more, and I smile softly. "Oxy, Hunt." I groan when he pushes me and lies on his side, facing me. His eyes look worried, and his lips tip down. "It feels really good."

"Why are you doing drugs?" He frowns. "Did something happen? Is someone…bullying you?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?" I seethe, even though it feels like I'm slurring my words. "You know exactly what happened."

Hunter is silent for a beat, then says, "You need to stop it. For me. For us."

"There is no us." I laugh. "You said it yourself. We're not doing anything."

"Stop it," he growls. "Don't do it again, Oliver."

I wince at my full name. "Or what?"

The silence is loud, and he exhales roughly. "Or we're done."

He begins to get up, but even through my sluggishness, I manage to wrap my hand around his wrist and tug. "We will never be done, Hunt," I tell him. "You can't stay away from me even if you wanted to."

Hunter's eyes narrow on my face. "Do you even know why I'm here?"

"Why?"

"You stood me up, Ollie." His voice is hoarse, hurt. "We were supposed to go for our drive. We were supposed to talk."

"About what?" I raise my eyebrow. "About how you fucked me over? Hurt my feelings?"

"Sorry," Hunter chokes up. "I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."

"What's done is done," I say dismissively.

Hunter stays still for what feels like forever, but then he gets up and leaves me behind, going to his room. He slams the door, making the walls rattle. Rather than going after him like I should, I flip over in bed and close my eyes. Letting sleep take me under.