Never give up on what you really want to do. The person with big dreams is more powerful than one with all the facts.

Albert Einstein

I run like I've never run before in my life. I run like my life is at stake because, obviously, it is. I run and run. I don't even try to see if Oliver is with me. I don't even know which way I'm going.

"I knew it was-!" The rest of the mugger's sentence drowns out in the distance. I don't hear the rest.

I keep running. My feet hurt, my heart pounds, and I'm sweating. I need to stop. I need to rest my feet. I need to catch my breath. But I keep running.

I run until I see a streetlight. I slow down a little just to see if Oliver is anywhere near me. I don't see him, but I keep running.

After five more minutes, I stop and lean against a lamp post to catch my breath. God knows where I am now.

I look around. I can see a neon board somewhere far away. It must be some kind of shop. I will head that way, but first I need to know where Oliver is.

Before I can call him, I hear footsteps and I see him, "There you are."

I straighten up and glance at him.

"Did you have a nice adventure?"

I had that coming.

"I have never seen a real revolver before so yeah, nice adventure," I shrug like it's no big deal.

Oliver steps towards me, "And if we had been killed, it would be nice too, right?"

He is really angry. I gulp.

Oliver steps forward until he is looking straight down at me, "And you still have the tots."

I look down. And yes, I still have the tots clutched in my hand.

"Umm, yes. Want one?" I ask him.

Oliver lets out a breath. He glares at me. I look up at him.

"That will be the last adventure you'll have tonight," Oliver says, threatening me, "You are going home right now, and I don't want to hear a thing."

"I didn't say anything," I roll my eyes.

"You won't have a chance to," Oliver says and goes for my wrist.

I hiss in pain.

Oliver stops, "What was that?"

"That's because you thought it was nice to get mental support by grabbing my wrist like it's your lifeline."

Oliver frowns and then he holds up my hand so he can get a look. I look at my wrist too. It looks pinkish.

Oliver caresses his finger over my wrist, soothing my pain. I swallow because I'm feeling these little tingles shooting up in my body. Oliver continues to go on in circles with his thumb. His lips turn into a deeper frown and his eyebrows are knitted.

"You should get ice. It will turn blue in the morning," Oliver says it like he is accusing me.

Then he looks up and meets my eyes, "You should have said something."

"And kill us both?"

Oliver looks down, still frowning and keeps massaging. I think that's enough so I say, "Let go, Oliver. It's nothing."

Oliver glares at me then he snaps, "Of course, it's nothing! Is anything ever something to you? You call me in the middle of the night for a midnight adventure. What sane person does that? I ask you what's wrong. It's nothing! We almost get mugged and killed. Does it mean anything? It's no biggie! You have a freaking bruise on your wrist because of me, and guess what? It's nothing!"

I flinch, "Why are you so angry? We got out of the whole mugging situation. It's just a bruise and it will go away. I am the one who is bruised, not you."

Oliver closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, "Yeah, exactly. It should have been me. I should have never agreed to this. What was I even thinking?"

"Well, I lured you?" I ask.

Oliver snaps his eyes back on me. He doesn't reply. Then he turns around and runs his hand through his hair.

"I am calling Jason," he declares before getting his phone out.

I shrug, open my packet of tots, and start eating. In my defense, I have to make a good use of my time.

"Yeah. I am sharing my location. Pick us up and be quick, because I don't trust her. God knows when she'll get another idea," Oliver says.

"Hey! I'm right here!" I complain.

Oliver glances at me as if to say 'so what?'

"Yeah, okay," Oliver hangs up the phone.

"Now what?" I ask him.

"Now we wait," Oliver says and glances around. He is looking everywhere but at me.

I lean back on the lamp post, eating my tots.

After some time, Oliver asks, "Why would you do this?"

His gaze is so intense I look away, "Do what?"

"You should be at home. Shouldn't you? Why are you outside in the middle of the night?"

"For a little adventure. We are only sixteen. This is the time for adventures. "

"Are you high?"

"Seriously?" I ask him.

"I have a hard time believing you."

"I know where and when to stop."

"Do you?" Oliver asks accusingly, "Because I don't think you do."

"What you think about me is none of my concern," I reply sharply.

But I know that isn't true. I always take it personally whenever anyone says anything about me, either bad or good. It hits me right in my heart, but I don't have to show it. It is one of my worst weaknesses, taking people's opinions about me way too seriously.

I am not going to let him know that.

When I glance at Oliver, he is still staring at me as if he wants to figure me out. It is not that easy.

"Don't look at me that way," I accuse.

"What way?" He cocks his head like he didn't understand.

"Like something is wrong with me. Weren't you the same person that said we don't have to fit into the definition of normal human beings?"

"Yes. And I knew my reasons, but I don't know yours."

"So? Do I have to tell you?"

"I didn't ask."

"Yes, you did. You asked what was wrong with me."

Oliver goes silent, because it is easy not to reply.

I sigh.

"Look, nothing is wrong, okay? I have a nice house, my parents are amazing people. They are probably sleeping now and having dreams about...well, whatever adults dream about. And I am their happy little daughter. Everything is as it should be. All I wanted is to have a little adventure. So, let it go, Oliver."

"Shouldn't you be dreaming too?"

I look up at the sky. Yes, I should be dreaming too. Yet, here I am, outside in the cool night air, running from a man with a gun.

Only because I don't want to feel like I'm drowning. I don't want to feel like I'm just going around like a lifeless robot.

The idea of going out in the middle of the night sounds really stupid now. I was so desperate that I threw my common sense, and myself, right out of the window.

"Yeah, I should be. Why are you here? You really don't want to be. You could have refused straight out after I called you. Why didn't you?"

I gaze at Oliver. Oliver is looking at the sky, the cloudy night sky.

"Thought you would take me to see unicorns," Oliver replies and looks down at me.

I blink. Was that sarcasm in his voice? My, my. I am a bad influence, aren't I?

I grin almost immediately, "Obviously. I was thinking about it. "

Oliver looks away. We stand there in silence, listening to the quiet hum of night air. Then I ask a question and ruin the mood.

"Was it true what you said back there?"

"What?"

"That you know, if he lays a finger on you, your dad will feed him to the dogs and things like that."

Oliver snorts. "Of course."

"Are you joking?"

"Of course, I'm not. I have bodyguards too, right?"

I realize he is making fun of the whole thing so I look away.

"I can't believe you made me run from a gunpoint. He could have shot," I say.

"And you could have stayed standing there waiting for him to do that."

"It wasn't really smart."

"And you had a smarter plan. "

"I could have just given him my tots. "

"Didn't you? Did it work?"

I remember the mugger laughing at me. And a horrible realisation strikes me.

Oliver technically saved my life. He saved me from the mugger only by shit-talking and lying.

Oliver saved me.

Yikes. I'd better die of embarrassment than owe my life to Oliver. What if he holds it against me?

"You know, though you signalled me to run, if I hadn't, I would be dead now."

"For a second, I thought you won't run."

I roll my eyes, "I am not that crazy."

Oliver shrugs.

"So, you see if I didn't run, I would be as good as dead now. The credit is all mine. I don't owe you anything. My own two feet saved me, " I say awkwardly.

"I didn't say otherwise, " Oliver says, shrugging with one of his shoulders.

There he goes, being all modest and humble. I roll my eyes.

"Who knows you won't say otherwise later?" I ask.

Oliver turns and meets my eyes, "I did what I knew I had to. It was not only for you. It was for me too. He could have shot me. I needed to save myself. But you keep forgetting that. "

He does have a point.

"Right," I say, "Just wanted to make sure. Had people telling me I'm ungrateful and stuff. I keep forgetting what they did for me. Making sure you won't say the same."

Oliver chooses to stay silent.

Sometimes I wonder if he listens to half the things I say. I have this weird feeling whenever I talk around people that they are not listening, not paying attention to what I have to say.

I want someone to listen. I want someone to care.

Eww, I sound desperate. I hate myself for that.

I hear Jason's car revving towards us. He waves from the driver seat with his usual big smile. At least someone is happy tonight.

"Heard you got mugged?" Jason says, rolling down the windows.

I laugh.

"Not funny," Guess who says that. Yes. You guessed right.

"Get in, get in. Here's Apollo with his sun chariot to save you petty humans from demons," Jason says, inviting us in.

I quickly step towards the car in a mission to have the shotgun. I don't want to be the third person here. Although, I actually am. Jason and Oliver are friends and I am no one. But I am trying my best to always fit in between, so I don't feel unwanted, so I don't feel ignored like I always do, everywhere else.

So far, they haven't made me feel like that. Oliver has ignored me, true. But he hasn't said anything like he wants me away from his friend.

Jason is such a sweetheart. He has welcomed me with open arms from the moment I sat with them. He talks to me like I am more of a friend to him than Oliver.

I don't know for sure but maybe they have their own terms about me. They are best friends after all.

"Shotgun!" I say, getting in and strapping the seat belt.

Oliver gets in the backseat without a word. He didn't even put up a fight, like he expected me to get in front.

He knows me too well, damn it.

"So, tell me the whole story," Jason says turning on the engine.

"You missed out a lot of fun today. Thinking back, I should have invited you, not Oliver. But he was the one who gave me the idea of a midnight adventure. Next time."

"There will be no next time," says Oliver from the back.

I turn and look at him. He is looking out through the window. His face is lost in the dark. His eyes are a little lit up, shadows casting a dark pool around the edges of his face.

He looks like the angel of death.

"How would you know there will be no midnight adventure again?"

"Because," Oliver turns and knocks me off with a glare, "No one will be accompanying you."

He means he won't accompany me again.

"Jason will," I point and look at Jason, "Won't you?"

Oliver looks at Jason. I know that look. It's an inside look. Just like friends have inside jokes, they have an inside look, by which they share secret messages, that no outsider can decode.

"Umm," Jason says, "I will think about it."

I know what that means. That means No, I won't go with you, but I can't refuse and break your heart.

"Alright," I sigh, "All these boys and no courage. Looks like I have to do it alone. "

"There is a fine line between courage and idiocy," Oliver says, like the killjoy he is.

"Running in front of a gunpoint clearly is idiocy," I throw back.

"Standing frozen in front of a gunpoint and offering muggers tater tots is another level of idiocy," Oliver throws back.

Beside us, Jason booms in laughter.

"You offered a mugger tater tots?"

"He told me to give him all I have. I had tater tots. Besides, I thought it would change his mind," I reason.

It was a completely logical decision. I know you agree with me.

Jason is still laughing, "Why did you guys stop? Keep bickering. I love to be entertained. "

Oliver glares at him from the backseat.

Suddenly, I have this weird burst of happiness inside of me. It is just the thought of the three of us. We are a good team, aren't we? Me and Jason, we are the jokers. Me and Oliver, we are the fighters. Oliver and Jason, they are the secret bros, with their secret inside looks and messages.

But it might be only me who thinks this way. Jason and Oliver are too polite to ignore me, too polite to push me away. I know they won't do that. They won't ghost me.

I just don't know if I'm pushing too hard to get in, to stay with them, to make friends.

I look away.

"Someone is quiet," Jason comments.

"And you have to point that out, " Oliver replies.

I look back at Oliver and smile softly. "Yeah, I guess I ran out of battery. "

I look away.

What should I do? Should I leave them alone now?

Jason asks me to give him my address. I dictate to him the direction as he drives. It doesn't take long to reach my house.

"See you guys. Have a good night," I say and unbuckle my seat belt.

"You good?" Jason asks.

"Yeah, why?" I ask.

"Nothing," Jason shakes his head.

I am glad he asked that. Nobody asks that anymore.

I turn around and Oliver is staring outside. He doesn't say anything.

I get out of the car and step outside. The door to the backseat opens too.

"Didn't have enough fun?" I ask.

Oliver is drilling his gaze into my head. He takes a step towards me.

"I lied," Oliver says.

*****