Oliver is a manga artist, but he was once an angry little boy with a sunny best friend: Ian Miller. Then, one day, they weren't friends anymore. Oliver doesn't know when was it exactly that Ian disappeared from his life, and refuses to remember why...
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God, why.
"You two did such a good job! I can't wait to see what you come up with for the presentation," the teacher said, and then I knew I was stuck with him— again. And not just stuck next to each other during class because she felt like pairing us, but now we have to get together for this, since it's a lot of work.
"Do you... want to come home on Monday, after class?" Ian asks, tidily shoving the books into his backpack like it matters. "Or I could go to yours?"
"You can't come to my place," I state, shutting my locker. And it's not even because I don't want him there— which I don't —but we won't get anything done with all the screaming anyway.
"Oh, okay," he says, nodding. "Do you remember my address?"
"No." Do I? No. I mean...I remember what the door looks like, but that's it. I must have been like ten years old the last time I was there, if it's even the same house. "Text it to me, I guess."
"Yup! Have a good day." Smile. Always smiling. How does he still... do that.
"I'll try."
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(18:22) yo
(18:56) bro
(19:15) dude
(19:42) DUDE
You have 2 missed calls from Jack
(19:45) fuck sorry fell asleep
(19:46) what? what's up?
(19:48) all good
(19:48) you coming?
Oh, yeah— it's Friday. Ethan, Jack, Dylan, and I play stuff on Fridays. Sometimes it's Mortal Kombat or L.A Noir, sometimes it's... Riskor Monopoly— we just like games. Monopoly gets way more heated than MK, anyway.
(19:52) yeah on my way
(19:57) 💪🏿
I roll off my bed to leave my room so I can splash some cold water on my face. I should have really gotten better sleep for this, but at least I've napped. Maybe I won't leave yet, though. I can already hear my mom and Chloe from here.
