Our Colors (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Four

The sound of my rag dragging down the mural was echoing through the art room as it had been the last few days. The brush stroke in tune with the wet sound. I glanced over at the small boy I've been been sharing my time with after school for the hour long torture. Oliver as he normally was, still covered in chalk and paint focusing his attention on the canvas in-front of him on the floor. The conversation with Tyson earlier today was nagging at me in the back of my mind.

The conversation as a whole was dropped and Oliver was no longer mentioned for the rest of the day but still it didn't sit well with me that people called him a freak show, or anything but a painter. Not that it was my business but he hadn't done anything wrong and yes some of his behavior was strange but Oliver was shy so it might just be that.

"Hey Oli?" My voice broke the silence as he hummed in response, not looking up from his painting most likely to avoid the eye contact that I wish he would give me. It was mostly because normally when you spoke to someone you look them in the eye but Oliver never did and I didn't find it disrespectful or anything but he had really nice eyes to not look you in the face in my opinion.

My inner self hesitated slightly. I didn't want to come off as though I was confronting him but I also was a nosey shit like my mother. I placed the rag down, getting down to sit on the ground across from him. His eyes flickered forward in questioning but didn't comment on it as his strokes on the painting slowed, the anxiety heightening.

"Relax Oli, I just... well like.... You see I..." I sputtered out. I don't know why I all of a sudden got the nerves but at the same time it probably wasn't a question I should ask since he wasn't really my business. Oliver as he heard me stutter gently placed the brush down as he places his paint streaked hands on his knees as he cleared his throat.

"What's wrong Jackson?" His voice came out quietly as it always did. Patience on his features as he waited for me.

"The first day I had detention you said... you said you were here because you liked it." I started my voice seemingly less confident as it got closer to the end. Oliver hummed in Agreeance still not meeting my eyes but looking at his painting. It looked to be a women drowning in a sea of masks. It was dark and moody but I didn't let my eyes dwell on the painting for long before I spoke again.

"Well is it because you do or is it because you wait for coach?" I noticed as Oliver's shoulders tensed at the question which caused my panic to rise as I began to ramble. "Which is totally okay, even so you really don't have to tell me if you don't want too Oli, you know what? Let pretend I didn't ask because wow that was insensitive and totally not my-" my rambling came to an abrupt halt as I heard the faint sound of a giggle.

My breath hitched slightly in my throat. I
The giggle was very short and even more quiet but I heard it. I watched as he picked up his paint brush once more, dipping into a black resuming his strokes. My lips were pressed together the thoughts of how ridiculous I am replaying in my mind again and again.

"It's okay Jackson. Yes I wait for my dad but I also like it here. It's comforting and familiar and mostly uninterrupted. I can focus and my dad has offered for me to wait for him in his office in the locker room but I don't like it there." I watched as Oliver nervously tugged on his sleeve that held the paint brush at the last sentence.

"Why didn't you tell me that Coach Jenson was your dad?" The sentence slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. He probably remembered being introduced to the team freshman year but I certainly didn't remember him but the wave of guilt for not remembering came crashing down on me as I asked.

Oliver tilted his head to the side, his lips pressed together in thought as he mumbled under his breathe for a moment. He finally let out a sigh, his words coming out sharp but still quiet, his eyes never meeting my own. "I assumed you already knew. I don't want to be treated differently just because he's my dad either."

I scoffed at that, leaning myself back on my hands. "I won't treat you differently you're still my friend, Coach isn't an issue." I said with a shrug.

I almost choked on my own saliva as the boy infront of me looked up at me, for the first time since the conversation started. His eyes wide as he stared me down, the green captivating me as his features looked softer than they normally did. His slightly red lips parted as if he was in shock.

"You... we.... We're friends?" He asked finally. He blinked a few times, the surprise slowly dissolving as he looked back down at his painting with an expression I couldn't place.

I couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped me as I hummed lowly. "Yes Oliver we're friends, unless you don't want to be?" An unsettling feeling took place in my stomach at the thought that Oliver didn't want to be friends with me. Sure he didn't seek my attention or really converse with me, more listened than anything but that didn't mean I didn't want to at-least try and be friends with the boy.

Oliver just stared at the canvas. Looking to be lost in thought as he tugged anxiously at his sleeve. I felt bad watching him as he was. I felt as if I did or said something wrong even though I know I didn't. He looked like he couldn't believe what I was saying which slightly made me upset because what was so bad about Oliver that people spoke about him like he was a freak? Sure he had some quirks but didn't everyone?

"I don't have any other friends though." Oliver said after a few moments of silence.

"You don't need to have other friends for you and I to be friends Oli. You're really not a bad guy. It'd be great if you talked more but I don't mind you just listening. I've spoken to you only a total of five days including today but you're nice and can kick my ass in my tic tak toe as of Friday's battle. I don't care if Coach is your dad and I don't care if you don't have other friends, it's their losses anyway." I replied. My voice was stern and serious for once in my life. I wanted my point to get across. Which it seemed it had, I noticed as he visibly relaxed. Once again picking up his paint brush, I couldn't help but smile wide as I saw a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Okay." He replied softly as he always does but this time it sounded more content.

"In that case...." I began as leaned forward off my hands this time, a grin spreading as I watched him take a breathe. "Do you want to hang out Thursday after detention? I know Coach will be here still to grade his gym classes but I can drive us and drop you off at home after?"

It was an innocent question that I wouldn't and shouldn't have even bashed an eyelid for but I couldn't help but walk on eggshells not wanting to cross a boundary with my new friend. My palms were sweating as I watched him once again begin to tug on his sleeve, watching his emotions switch from confused, uncertain, and shock. He finally coughed slightly, a light red on the tips of his ears. "Okay."