Something lost. A part of yourself, perhaps. That which you seek, inside you will find.

- Yoda

It’s been two weeks of spiraling, and I am at school. I have decided to leave Oliver alone for a while. That poor guy deserves a moment of peace. I am watching the clouds. The sky is blue and the clouds are running around. I am right there with the clouds, still floating.

“Seriously?” I avert my eyes from the clouds and see Oliver, who is looking down at me with his hands in his hips.

“What?” I ask him, unaffected.

Oliver covers his face with the palm of his hands and sits down beside me. “I thought ‘where could she really be?’ Then I find you lying down in the middle of the football ground.”

I shrug, still lying down. I keep watching the clouds.

“Is this craziness a suit of armor, or do you really love being crazy?” Oliver asks me.

“I dunno, maybe both?” I reply.

I pop up on my elbow and face him. “What’s your suit of armor?”

Oliver shrugs. “Why don’t you do me the honor of telling me?”

“I am not good at figuring people out. I am horrible at that,” I say, “but maybe I know yours.”

“And it is?”

“Being rude,” I say. “I was puking ,and you said ‘get out of this room right now!’ I thought you didn’t have a heart.”

“Now you think I do?” Oliver asks, smiling slightly.

I would be lying if I say I don’t like seeing him smile. It is a rare occasion and whenever that happens, I feel lucky. I feel like I earned a smile.

And of course, Oliver has a heart. For some reason, he keeps it hidden pretty well. He was rude and mean to me. He still is. but then he joins me in my midnight adventure, buys me tater tots, bikes with me through the whole town, leaves his favorite book to talk to me, shares half of his stories, and now he looked for me when I left him alone.

Oliver Carlson has a nice heart. If only he gave it to me. I would have kept it with me, locked in a safe, forever.

“I think about a lot of things,” I reply, “like you should lie down beside me and watch the free show the clouds are giving us. That one looks like a candy.”

Oliver gazes where I pointed. “No, thanks. I am fine how I am.”

“I also think it’s not fair,” I say.

“What?”

“The fact that I am grounded and you are not. After all, we bunked school together, so we both should be punished.” I say. “Didn’t they call your parents like they did with mine?”

“It was your idea in the first place, and that is a good punishment for you,” Oliver shakes his head in agreement.

“Shut up, Carlson,” I say. “Why don’t you have any punishment?”

“Huh,” Oliver frowns. “I don’t know if they called my parents. Whatever.”

“Looks like they did. At least they did call mine. Now Mom is home all the time and I can’t do anything!”

“Well, even if they called mine, I wouldn’t know. My parents didn’t tell me anything,” Oliver shrugs.

“Lucky,” I poke him in the arm.

“You wouldn’t say that if you were in my place,” Oliver says, meeting my eyes.

“What about that?” I ask.

Oliver looks away. He is done sharing information.

Sometimes, I really think Oliver is playing hard to get. He tells me enough to make me curious, but doesn’t say the whole thing to satisfy me. He leaves me hanging in the middle.

“My parents supervised the making of Carlson Tower, you know,” I say.

“Oh,” Oliver says. “Bradbury Development, right.”

“Yep, that’s my parents,” I sit up. “Your dad invited us to dinner after it was done.”

“Maybe,” Oliver replies.

“I went to your house,”I suddenly remembered. “That was what, a year ago?”

Oliver shrugs.

“I didn’t see you,” I say tapping on my chin, frowning. “I met this little girl. Her name was-”

“April,” Oliver says. “My step sister.”

I blink. Then I remember this conversation Mom and Dad were having in the car while we were on the way to the Carlsons’ house. Except, it wasn’t the same house I went to for the party. It was at the other end of the town, big and mansion-like. Better than the one I went to on that Saturday.

“Oh,” I stare ahead.

Oliver’s mom and dad got divorced two or three years ago. I heard Mom saying it that night. I wasn’t interested in that gossip, so it slipped right out of my mind.

“Well,” I clear my throat.“I don’t know what to say.”

“Not saying anything will be better,” Oliver says.

I get that that’s the cue to drop the subject. I never should have brought it up. That information completely slipped my mind.

I’m so gauche. I will never be socially tactful. Leave it to me to make the situation awkward and not have the right things to say in the right situations.

“You know, if the school office called my dad’s assistant, she would have probably dropped by and warned me," Oliver says.

“Hmm,” I say. “What about your mom?”

Oliver snorts. “Mom is in Spain? Or, I don’t know, France, with her newest boyfriend or whatever. She sends me pictures, though. Whichever famous place she visits, she sends me pictures. That just shows she doesn’t forget about me even when she is miles away,” Oliver says in a mocking tone, but I can still hear the anger that makes his voice shake a little.

“Yeah,” I say. I can not think of anything to say.

“You know, I have this big house, and I live in the luxury most people want. Yet when I look at other people, for example, you,” Oliver faces me, “I think ‘she is living in luxury. The luxury of having her family in one piece.’”

“Yes, when we take things for granted, it is no longer a luxury. It becomes convenient. For you, it’s the commodity, for me it’s my family.”

“When you call me lucky, I think the opposite. I think you are the lucky one.”

“I know I am,” I say, gazing at the white clouds. “I am lucky to have my parents, my brother. I really am.”

“Yesterday, you told me about having a home, having that person who will listen. I don’t have the chance of having that home. You do. Maybe you should take advantage of that,” Oliver says looking at me. “You can have a home if you speak out. ”

“And that’s the hardest part,” I say.

“Yeah. Speaking up is always the hardest part,” Oliver says, looking at the clouds as well.

“And hey, in some ways, you are lucky too. Who says you can’t have a home? All you need to do is open your eyes and look around to find the right person,” I say, looking at him.

Oliver meets my eyes. “Maybe I will.”

I smile and look away.

Oliver is lucky, but he doesn’t realize how. We all are. It wouldn’t be fair to him to have my spiral days. I guess the universe balances it out.

It never gives you too much luck.

*****

The week ended with me and Oliver trying to find common things between us. It was my idea. I try to bring up subjects. Oliver talks whenever he sees fit. That is, after I rant for half an hour, he mutters a sentence. Even when he does that, he looks like someone is forcing him to talk.

So far, we are both in agreement about a few things:

1. Tater tots are the best food in the whole wide world.

2. School cafeteria sucks. Both the food and the people. Bleachers or even the football ground is a better idea.

3. I hate Oliver’s brown book.

4. Oliver is happy that I’m grounded (that bastard).

5. My novel is the next New York # 1 best seller even before I’ve published it. I have only written two chapters.

6. Oliver still doesn’t wanna tell me about his ‘better things’ that he does to pass time.

7. Game of thrones isn’t worth the time.

8. Marvel is better than DC. Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy and Wonder Woman are out of this inequation.

9. I need to watch Star Wars or Jason will kill me.

However, when school opens on Monday, we are back in the cafeteria, and Jason’s chair is no longer empty.

Jason Swindlers is back. He looks as handsome as ever. Nobody would think he was sick for a week.

“There you are!” I exclaim at seeing him. I lean down and hug him. Jason hugs me back.

“Missed me much?” Jason asks me as I sit down.

“Obviously I did,” I look at Oliver. “I don’t know about him though.”

Oliver gives me a look and then goes back to his freaking book.

“And you didn’t kill each other off?” Jason asks, his face shining in amusement.

“Oh, no, no,” I look at Oliver. “We-”

Oliver glances at me. I was going to tell Jason how Oliver and I had a good time, how we talked about stuff, but looking at Oliver, I don’t want to.

It may stay as our little secret.

“You see, Oliver isn’t barking at me anymore,” I say “I tamed him.”

Jason laughs. I get kicked under the table. I kick Oliver right back.

Lovely secret we have now.

“She didn’t watch Star Wars,” Oliver chimes in. “Not even a single one.”

Jason sits up straight. “You didn’t what?”

Oh, great. I am dead. Jason looks like he wants to murder me.

I am going to kill Oliver. So much for keeping secrets.

“But you sent me Star Wars memes every day!” Jason says.

Olive raises his eyebrow at me. “Did she now?”

“Those memes about Baby Yoda and Darth Vader gave me mental strength to get well faster,” Jason says.

“Of course it did,” I say nervously. “Everybody knows memes work better than meds.”

“And all this time, while I gushed to you about Baby Yoda, you didn’t understand a sentence?”

“Well, umm, you see, I know about a few things. For example, Han Solo and Princess Leila. Oh, and also a spoiler that Luke Skywalker is Darth Vader,” I say. I am pretty proud of myself.

Jason narrows his eyes. Oliver is pressing his lips together.

“Do you have any idea what you’re talking about?” Jason says.

“Well, umm,” I stutter. Did I say anything wrong?

Oliver snorts, “If she only knew.” He mumbles but I hear him.

“Okay, okay. Alright. I am going to watch all of them, I promise,” I say.

“You know what,” Jason shakes his head. “ I have a better idea.”

Jason looks at Oliver. “Only if you don’t have any problem.”

“What is it?” Oliver asks.

“We can have a movie marathon in your house,” Jason says, “And celebrate my rebirth from the flu.”

“Sure,” Oliver shrugs.

“Okay then, that’s set,” Jason says.

“Great. Thankfully, I am not grounded anymore. I do have a curfew though,” I say.

At home, I acted like a good girl: I helped mom with her chores and pretended I was doing my homework while I wrote a little bit more of my novel. Mom lessened my punishment into a curfew.

I am a free girl now. But I have to go back home before 7. I think I can do that.

“You were grounded,” Jason says. “You didn’t tell me.”

I scowl. “You also don’t know Oliver bunked school with me.”

“Wait, what?” Jason glances at Oliver, who raises his book over his face, hiding behind it.

“How many times did I want you to leave school with me?” Jason complains.

“Can’t hear you from here,” Oliver replies, making a big show of being concentrated in his book.

“I am going to burn that book,” I say after a while.

“Sure. Please do that,” Jason replies.

This time, we both get kicked under the table. When we kick back, Oliver hisses and kills us with his gaze.

I can’t wait to go to his house and spy in his room.

*****