“It is so easy to stray away from the person you want to be because the people that surround you push you into a mold to make you the person they want to see.”

-

(

Oliver stops in his tracks. So do I.

Scarlett?

“I didn’t kiss her. She was the one who came onto me,” Owen says, staring at the ceiling.

Oliver doesn’t move.

“She is the one who told me you two had broken up. She wanted to kiss me. I didn’t even kiss her back.”

I feel like an intruder right now, as if I am listening to something I shouldn’t.

“But I never really told you. She blamed me. And I thought that...it was stupid. I knew you wouldn’t believe me either way.”

Oliver doesn’t make any sound. His hands are in fists.

“You always hated me. It doesn’t matter if I did it or not,” Owen says.

“I don’t hate—” Oliver mumbles.

Owen laughs humorlessly. “It’s a mess. But the truth is, I have always had your back, Oli.”

Oliver closes his eyes for a moment. Then he storms out of the room, leaving me behind.

I don’t know what to do.

I look back at Owen who’s staring at the ceiling. His chest is rising and falling with his breaths. It seems like he doesn’t see me.

There are so many questions in my head that they make me feel like I am going crazy. I get out of Owen’s room and take some deep breaths to get a hold of myself.

Who is Scarlett? Oliver broke up with her. Does that mean—? Oliver never told me about it. Owen says he never kissed her? Is this why Oliver and Owen—

I don’t know anything for sure. I had my first kiss with Oliver, and now I have to hear about him and another girl.

I am confused. I clutch my heart and take another deep breath.

Oliver isn’t around. Where is he?

I glance inside his room. He isn’t there. I decide to check his other room.

I find Oliver pacing back and forth, pulling his hair in frustration. It seems like a thousand things are going on in his head.

How did the night turn into this?

I clear my throat. Oliver doesn’t hear me at first. So I do it again.

Oliver looks at me. He realizes I am still here.

“I am going home,” I say. “Thought I should let you know.”

But it doesn’t seem like he needs to know. He forgot about me. I am not going to lie—that hurts.

Oliver stares at my face, “I—”

“It’s okay. I guess you need to be alone right now,” I say as I turn around and leave his room.

I stop when Oliver grabs my wrist from behind. I glance at him.

“I am coming with you,” Oliver states.

“You don’t need to,” I say.

“I do,” Oliver says, and without letting go of me, he starts for the door.

We walk out of the Carlson house, hand in hand. Oliver remains silent as grave as we head towards my house. He is absorbed by his thoughts.

The whole way Oliver stays in his head while I wonder what will happen now. Where are we going to go from this?

I wish someone would explain to me what’s going on. But looking at Oliver, I don’t think he would. He never really tells me anything.

We reach my house soon enough.

“Good night,” I say, trying to get my hand out of his hold.

Oliver doesn’t let me.

“Wait.”

I look at his face.

“I—this was not supposed to—” Oliver shakes his head, struggling to form a sentence. “This was not supposed to happen. I am not good at this.”

I sigh. “It’s okay. You do not need to be good at anything.”

Oliver closes his eyes and shakes his head as if he is disappointed in himself. He opens them and gazes at me.

Oliver might be terrible at verbally expressing what he feels, but everything is in his eyes.

“Gwen,” he whispers.

At that moment, looking at him, my heart squeezes almost painfully. It feels like I don’t have enough air to breathe in. I suffocate. I lean on him for support.

The suffocating feeling goes away as soon as it comes.

“I—” Oliver starts, “I wanted to—” but he struggles with his words.

So I say, “Shh. It’s okay.”

Oliver releases a sigh. He nods.

I let go of him and step back. Saying good night to him, I turn around.

I don’t know why it feels like everything has changed.

*****

I wake up in the morning, and I know instantly what I felt last night. I glance at the teddy bear sitting on my bed. I smile.

I dress up quickly, have my breakfast in a hurry, and leave for school. For some reason, I am happy today. I am excited to go to school and meet a certain someone who kissed me last night. My cheeks heat up thinking of that moment. Oliver Carlson seemed a little impatient to kiss me. My smile grows bigger as I think of our “guitar chord lessons.”

It is hard to wipe the big grin off my face as I reach school. I find Jason immediately. “Hey, Jason!”

“Heyo!” Jason says. With him stands none other than Oliver Carlson.

Oliver glances at me. My stomach bursts into butterflies. I can see last night playing through my head—Oliver Carlson sitting there shirtless, looking at me with his dark dark eyes.

I am blushing so hard my ears feel hot.

To be honest, I am not the only one who’s thinking about last night. As I gaze at Oliver, I can see the glint in his eyes.

“Someone looks like a tomato,” Jason comments. I cover my cheeks with my palms.

Jason chuckles. He glances at Oliver, and surprisingly enough there is a faint, very faint, pink line over his cheeks.

Oliver looks at Jason as if to ask ‘What?’

We hear the bell ringing so we head for our classes. I’m on Jason’s one side and Oliver is on the other. As I reach my classroom, the boys stop to say goodbye. By the boys I mean Jason. Oliver gazes at me for a brief moment before he leaves.

I don’t have to tell you that every time he looks at me I feel goosebumps on my skin. Not because he is looking, but because of the way he is looking at me like he wants to—

I need to pay attention to my class now. I’ll think about Oliver later, I say to myself.

Who am I kidding?

*****

The sky fell on me. I am not even exaggerating. The sky did fall on me and everyone else at school.

The midterm is in a week.

When I hear the news, I look at the calendar and I groan internally. How did I not see time going away too fast? It feels like only yesterday we celebrated Halloween and Oliver Carlson, the vampire, bit on my neck.

No, I don’t need to think about that now. The only thing I need to think about is how much studying I need to do.

I whine as I reach our table at lunch.

“How could they do this to us? How? How?” I say as I slump down to my chair.

Oliver glances at me for a brief second while Jason joins me in whining.

“The last thing I want to do right now is to take an exam,” Jason groans. “Why does studying even matter? What good is it even gonna do, reading about the crap Einstein came up with? It won’t get me a girlfriend.”

“Facts,” I conclude. “Hey, Mr. Smartypants, you don’t seem like you have any problem with it.”

Jason snorts. “Who are you calling smarty pants? Oli almost failed in American History last year.”

My mouth falls open as I look at Oliver.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Oliver states.

I chuckle. “Then whose fault was it? The teachers’?”

“We have a faulty study system. Why should I study something I have no interest in?” Oliver shrugs.

“Oh well, you gotta do what you gotta do,” I say. “Why didn’t you choose other electives?”

“I don’t like either of them,” Oliver replies.

“The only thing he likes is probably math and physics, eh?” Jason says. “Yet, he gets a B.”

Oliver glares at Jason, “It’s not my fault the teachers don’t like the way I solve problems.”

“You do more in your head than you do on the paper,” Jason answers.

“Leave him alone,” I say. “As if you have all A’s.”

Jason clutches his heart as if he is offended. “Do not underestimate the average people. I might not be gifted academically, but I have other talents.”

“Like?” I ask, leaning my chin on my palm.

Jason sighs. “If Valerie was here, she would’ve been able to tell you.”

I look at him for a few seconds before getting what he means. Then I roll my eyes and say, “Yet she left you.”

Jason’s mouth falls open. I grin and look at Oliver, who looks like he is having a hard time suppressing his laughter.

Please laugh. Will you?

“You guys are so so cruel!” Jason complains. “I am not going to talk to you. Hrmph.”

I shake my head, smile, and eat my food. I am planning to spend my free period in the library to get some work done.

As I say I am going to the library, Jason and Oliver join me as well. It turns out I am not the only one who needs to study.

While we are on our way, Jason suddenly asks, “What did you two do last night after I left you? Did you just sit there and mope?”

“I thought you weren’t going to talk to us?” I say, hiding my smile.

Jason looks like he just remembered that. He glancess away and stays silent.

Five seconds later, Jason turns to me. “That was a trick to shut me up, wasn’t it? Tell me now.”

If he only knew about last night.

I clear my throat. “I gave Oliver guitar lessons.”

I look at Oliver, who has no expression on his face.

“Guitar lessons?” Jason says it like I’ve committed a crime. “I left you alone with him to give him guitar lessons?!”

I want to laugh so badly, but I keep a serious face. “Yes, I taught him the five basic major chords. Ask him if you don’t believe me.”

I shrug. Jason looks at Oliver and glares. “Seriously? That’s what you did?Got guitar lessons?”

“Yes. Five major chords: C, A, G, E and—” Oliver stops abruptly, “And... and—”

I shake my head. “You already forgot one?”

Oliver looks unfocused as if he was trying to remember. He looks down at the buttons of his shirt.

“The chords are in your buttons or something?” Jason says.

I bite the inside of my cheeks, or else I am going to explode.

“The last chord is...” Oliver mumbles. Then he snaps his head to look at me. “You never taught me the last one.”

I open my mouth to protest. Then I remember, yes, I never actually got the chance to teach him the last one. That’s because he became a little too eager to finish it. Soon we were too busy kissing.

“That’s because you were impatient, Oliver,” I state. Jason looks from me to Oliver, not getting what I mean.

Oliver stares at me. “You should have been quicker.”

“How could I have been quicker? Giving guitar lessons takes time,” I say.

Jason shakes his head. But Oliver, he gives me a look and says, “I will show you how to be faster next time.”

Oliver holds my gaze as if to get the message through.

“Next time?” I raise my eyebrows.

“I already told you. I will need many more guitar lessons,” Oliver states with a straight face.

“If you insist,” I say, flipping my hair.

Jason makes a sound of annoyance. “I can’t believe you two.”

I bite my lips as I look at Oliver, trying to hold in my laughter. Oliver takes the opportunity to stare at my mouth.

Oliver wants to drive me mad. I look away.

We step into the library and choose a table in the corner to sit at. Oliver takes the chair across from mine while Jason sits at the head chair. I take out my English Literature assignment that I need to complete today. It carries almost half of my grade.

The library is not crowded. There are a few students dispersed here and there. Jason is trying to study chemistry, and I can see Oliver with his American History textbook. He is grimacing at it. I smile and get to work.

Not even five minutes later, I feel someone’s knee brushing with mine. I look up at Oliver. It has to be him. He is sitting across from me.

Oliver is still staring at his book like he is trying to concentrate. So I shrug. I begin my work, going through the assigned comprehension.

I feel Oliver’s legs move.

I glance at him again. He looks unphased.

So I try to move my legs and realize his ankles are crossed behind my ankles. When did he do that?

I clear my throat. This is not helping me. I need to stay focused. I need to get some work done. I gulp and stare hard at my copy.

Oliver runs a hand through his hair.

I glance at him. Oliver doesn’t even look at me.

My stomach is churning in anticipation. I try to find the answers to the questions for my assignment. A few moments later I hear someone tapping their fingers on the table. I glance at Oliver. He stops tapping.

I go back to my writing, and he starts tapping again. I look up just in time, when Oliver suddenly sits upright, pulling his ankles towards him with mine as well.

I am going to kill him.

I glare at him, and this time I find him staring at me. Oliver’s eyes are right on me as if he has been staring at me this whole time.

I need to do something. I swallow and say in a low voice, “I am going to get a dictionary.”

“You can just search on your phone.” Jason shrugs, looking up at me.

“My phone’s dead,” I say and try to stand up. Oliver gazes at my face as he removes his feet from behind mine. I almost run from the table. I walk to the section of the library where all the dictionaries and encyclopedias are. It’s in a corner and almost detached from the rest of the library.

I don’t need a dictionary. I need to catch my breath, or I swear to God I will grab Oliver and kiss him senseless. He was doing that on purpose, wasn’t he?

I don’t need to think hard about it because I hear footsteps coming my way. I quickly fetch a dictionary and open a random page.

“Found it?” says a familiar voice. I don’t even have to look up to know who it is.

Oliver came after me.

I nod yes as I feel him getting closer. His chest brushes my back, and he looms over me, looking at the definition I have opened to.

“You need to know the meaning of that?” Oliver whispers.

That is when I actually look at what I have opened. It is in the ‘S’ section. It says Noun, see definition in biology. :se—

Goddamn it. I snap the dictionary shut immediately and turn around to find Oliver smiling a little. He is smirking, to be exact.

I want to kill him. Or maybe replace the L’s with S’s.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper, remembering to keep my voice down.

“I need an encyclopedia,” Oliver whispers back, still smiling.

“Of course, you need an encyclopedia, you—I was trying to study and you—” I say, fuming.

“What did I do?” Oliver asks, dropping the smile, with an innocent expression.

I point my index finger at him. I turn around to leave the section, but Oliver grabs my wrist.

“You forgot your dictionary,” Oliver says.

I glare at him. “I don’t need one.”

Oliver nods like he understands and lets me go. Before I can take another step, he tugs me again. “I was wondering—”

I look at him in annoyance. There is a soft look on his face.

“When is the next lesson?” Oliver finishes.

I narrow my eyes. “What lesson?”

“Guitar lesson,” Oliver says. “I never learned the last major chord.”

I stare at him. Moments from last night replays in my head.

I assess the situation—Oliver and I in the far corner of the library, hidden behind an aisle, and he is grabbing me and not letting me go.

“You know what,” I say, properly turning towards him, “I can give you one right now.”

Oliver’s eyes flash a little. “But we don’t have a guitar.”

I smile. “As if we need one,” I say before I grab his collar and pull him towards me.

*****