"I mean, yeah, he's your boyfriend even though I don't understand how that happened, but it did," Sky shrugged, "I'm happy for you, I'm glad you found a nice guy, keep him." I grinned at her. "See you tomorrow," she nodded and we said bye before she went to her car and I went to Ethan's where he was standing, waiting for me. 

"Hi," I smiled. 

"Hi," he nodded, pushing himself off the car and opening the passenger side door for me. 

"Thanks," I mumbled while sitting inside as he took the driver's seat and started driving us home. I leaned my head back, letting out a sigh before pulling out my phone, checking for any texts from my parents but I didn't have any. 

"Are you okay? You seem a little off," Ethan said, glancing over at me. 

"I'm fine, just tired," I gave him a small smile. This decision has been pending for over a month now and the anxiety I feel just thinking about it is really scary. 

"That doesn't sound very convincing," he mumbled. 

"I'm okay," I huffed. The rest of the drive went by in silence until he pulled over in front of my house. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?" He nodded. I got out and went up to my house, heading inside. I closed the door, locking it, tossed my bag on the floor, and leaned against the door with a heavy sigh. 

We might be moving. We might be leaving. 

Not this town or city, just this neighborhood. I don't understand why because this is our home, there shouldn't be any reason to leave. But apparently, there is. The reason being, my parents want change. 

It doesn't really matter how I feel ultimately, once they've made their decision, they've made their decision. If they say we're leaving, I'll have to. But the problem is, I really don't want to. This house isn't just a roof over my head, it's my home. It's my safe spot. It's where I grew up, where I've lived my whole life and I'm not ready to say goodbye to it. I may never be. 

Before my parents left, my mom told me she's going to be talking to my aunt, Cher, the one they're visiting, about what she thinks. And if we have to leave... it'll break my heart. And if we're not leaving the city or even this town, then what is the fucking point? 

I groaned, letting my hair down, heading to the kitchen but the doorbell rang. I clicked my tongue, opening the door, and seeing Ethan. "I uh, I'm locked out," he said. 

"Isn't your mom home?" 

He shook his head in response, "She's at work." 

I stepped aside and let him in, leading him to the kitchen. "Would you like to eat or drink anything?" I asked. 

"I'm good right now," he shook his head. 

"Okay," I said slowly while closing the fridge, grabbing orange juice for myself. 

"Why are you acting so off?" he asked. 

"I'm not," I scoffed. 

"Olivia," he sighed. I turned to face him. "I know you well enough to know when you're acting off, okay? So, don't pretend. What is up with you? You've been acting weird since lunch," he said, fidgeting with his phone. 

"Look, this is weird, okay? You're not my friend," I mumbled, putting the carton back in the fridge. 

"No, I'm your boyfriend. Just tell me, even if I'm not a friend, at least you're telling someone. At least you're getting it off your chest," he shrugged. 

"My parents texted me at lunch saying that they're gonna call me tonight. They've been thinking of moving for a while. Leaving this house," I said. 

He straightened up in his seat. "W-where would you go?" he questioned. 

"Somewhere," I shrugged, "Not leaving this town or city, just a different house because my parents want some change," I rolled my eyes, sitting on the barstool across from his. "And I..." I looked up at him, "Don't want to go." 

"Why not?" he questioned. 

"I hate change," I shrugged, "And I love this house, I'd hate to go," I explained. 

"But it's not like you'd be starting over. Just a different house," he said. 

"A different home. A home I don't want," I replied. 

"Because you're not ready to leave this one?" His eyes locked with mine. 

I nodded, sliding the glass from one hand to the other. "And I think tonight, I'll find out if we're leaving or not," I mumbled. "My parents will call me later and tell me what's going on, what they're thinking and I'm just scared of what they're gonna say. I... You don't have to be my therapist, okay? You can just um, hang around down here, I'll be up in my room, it's upstairs to the right if you need anything," I said before quickly getting up and speed walking off to my room. 

I closed the door behind me and groaned, climbing into bed. I grabbed a pillow, deciding to take a nap and when I closed my eyes, the door opened. "Go away, please," I mumbled, not bothering to open my eyes. 

"First off, don't start a conversation with me like that and then leave. Second, don't run like that, it's annoying," he said while sitting at the foot of my bed. 

"What would you like me to do, Ethan? Vent to you about my family problems?" I asked, rolling my eyes. 

"Yes, I'm your boyfriend, even if it's fake." I stared at him blankly in response. "How about this, whatever we tell each other while we have this thing going on, we cannot tell anybody else. It's a promised deal," he suggested, "Agreed?" 

I eyed him warily. "Fine," I mumbled, sitting up. 

"Your parents wanna leave just because they want change?" I nodded. "That's stupid," he mumbled. 

"Exactly. They want to lease out this house so it brings them money and get another house in a different part of town," I explained. 

"And what do you want?" he asked. 

"I don't wanna go," I shrugged. 

"Maybe you won't have to," he retorted. 

"Or maybe I will," I huffed. 

"If you keep saying that, you'll manifest it. Stop. Just don't think about it. At least till you find out. You might be stressing yourself for no reason so quit it," he explained. 

"I can't. It's constantly nagging at my goddamn brain. What if I have to leave? What if I can't call this home mine anymore? What if it's taken away from me? By my freaking parents!" I groaned, lying down and going under the covers. 

"Olive," he said, pulling the covers off. I put my arm over my eyes and closed them. "Olivia," he said. I didn't do anything, just lay still. I heard shuffling and when I opened my eyes, he was sitting a lot closer. "Don't. You won't leave," he shrugged, "And knowing you, you'll probably be so stubborn that they'll cave in and listen to you," he said, trying to sound reassuring. 

It was sweet of him, I'd go far enough to say it was cute of him. "Just don't give it so much thought, it'll all work out," he nodded. I shook my head slightly, pulling my arm over my eyes again. He grabbed my arm and pulled it down so I put the other arm and he did the same, holding both my wrists in one hand. 

"I just don't want to leave," I sighed, blinking up at the ceiling. 

I will not cry in front of Ethan Archer. 

He grabbed my hands and pulled me up into a seated position. I rolled my eyes, staring at him blankly. "You're not leaving," he said reassuringly. I stared at him. He stared at me. "God, you really love this place, don't you?" 

I nodded, "I do." 

"Then just have a little faith. A little hope. Believe it when you tell yourself you're not leaving. Cause you're not." He shrugged. 

"You're not supposed to be so nice, you know," I mumbled, running a hand through my hair. 

"Why not?" he smirked. 

"Because if I actually stop hating you, if I actually start liking you, as a person, don't get cocky," I huffed, "You'll be in trouble." 

"Why will I be in trouble if you like me?" he asked. 

"Because you'll be stuck with me. Don't be so nice, I'm supposed to hate and date you. That's it," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. 

"You can hate, date, and like me, all at the same time," he grinned. 

"You know what else I can do all at the same time? Slap, kick, and punch you," I smiled sarcastically. 

"You're just afraid you'll fall in love with me," he shrugged smugly. 

"Yeah, that must be it," I scoffed. He lay down across my bed, the wrong way. I stared down at him as he lay in front of me. He raised his brows at me questioningly. 

I shrugged before laying beside him the same way. Our legs dangling off the right, our heads off the left. "You know, you're not as bad as I thought you were, Miles," I said, turning to look at him. 

He turned to me, and I was surprised at the proximity. 

We could easily kiss. 

"You're not as bad as I thought either, Olive," he smiled. 

"You're a good fake boyfriend," I nodded, staring at the ceiling. 

"And you're a good fake girlfriend," he replied.

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