Something about Us

Hope is the thing that flies

--Arthur--
•Tuesday Morning•

This is it. I'm so close. I have in my hand the keys to making Oliver happy, to making him not feel so alone, to making the world see him for who he really is. Not for the vicious lie told about him.
This is it.
This is the name.
In this folder is the name.
I came into school two hours early, broke into the administrative office, broke into three different filing cabinets and spent 20 minutes filing through folders and I've finally found the last name I was looking for.
The last name of Oliver's old foster family. The family on which one of the parents' birth sons died in an accident. An accident that his parents said wasn't an accident. They blamed Oliver. They said he killed him. The word and story spread and twisted until people saw it as accepted fact. The brother knew Oliver didn't kill him but he wouldn't say anything.
Now I just need his first name.
Then I can make him tell the truth. To me, to Oliver, to the whole school.

I ran my hands over the aged yellow folder. It was thick and the color was faded, but everything I needed was right there. I also thought that I should flip through the file in case I needed to blackmail this person into speaking the truth. I took a deep breath, again eyeing the last name written on the little tag before opening it slowly.
Jones.
It was a common enough last name but the school only had one file with it on it.
My eyes scanned the dirt page until I found what I was looking for. The full name shot out at me like a bullet into my chest.
"Alfred F. Jones"
What? Alfred? Hero complex, rude, boisterous, egotistical, idiotic Alfred?
That's impossible.
....
Is it?
I remember that time he stopped me in the hallway. It was my second or third day in the school and he told me to be nice to Oliver. He told me that he was sweet and a good person, but that he couldn't tell other people that.
I nearly fell over with the realization.
It is him.
That idiot is the key to success.
Fate, why must you plague me?

Closing the file and shoving it back into the cabinet carefully, I exited the office, leaving no trace of my presence at all. A bubbling hope filled my chest, and I could feel a stupid grin come across my face.
I'm fixing this, Ollie. I'm doing it. I told you I would, and here I am.
I shot down the hallway and back outside, grin perpetually stitched into my face. Happiness and hope and determination flooded within me.
"Hola, Arthur! Beautiful morning, si?" Antonio asked me as I walked by.
"Absolutely smashing, Antonio. It's lovely out," I replied, practically slipping into the other building for Advanced Lit.

I see Alfred first period. If I can get there before him or even pull him aside after class, I can make him talk. I can do this. I will do anything. I don't know if I could win in a fist fight with him, seeing as he's built like some sort of comic book hero, but I can definitely scare him. But, I'm just going ask politely first. Like the gentleman I am.

"Oi! Alfred you bloody git, let me talk to you!" I shouted to him as I saw him in the hallway. The group of people he was with waved to him and then departed.
He looked at me slightly confused.
"Uh sure dude. What's up?" He asked, genuinely confused. I marched up to him as steadily as I could, holding my chin high and knowing I looked proud and intimidating.
"I want you to tell everyone the truth about Oliver,"
His eyes widened. "W-what? I've got no idea what-"
"Stop acting so stupid. I don't know why you do that. You are incredibly intelligent, I can see that, yet you hide that intelligence for no good bloody reason so don't play stupid with me. You know exactly what the hell I'm talking about, Alfred. You were there when it happened. You know very well he didn't kill your brother,"
Anger flared in his eyes for a moment before he shook his head, taking a deep breath and then pulling me by my arm into an empty bathroom and locking the door.
"I don't know how you found out but you can't tell anyone else... If you know that much then you know... About my parents... A-and-"
I held a hand up.
"You don't have to explain your home life to me, Alfred. I'm sorry you have to go through so much. It's not fair to you. And... I'm sorry... About your brother. I couldn't imagine losing one of mine," I said truthfully.
He nodded again and looked to the floor, letting his hair fall into his face and hiding his eyes.
"I was so horrible to him... Oliver. When we were little. My parents always treated him worse then they treated Mattie and me, but I never tired to stop them. And I was never nice to him either. I made fun of him and when I wasn't doing that I was Ignoring him completely. And then after Mattie..." He paused and his voice shook as he took a ragged breath. "I know Oliver didn't push him off that swing. He always swung too high and then he fell... But I was too much a coward to tell my parents what actually happened,"
"Well here's your chance for redemption, Alfred," I said, putting a consoling hand on his arm. "Look at the life Oliver has now. Look at how small his world is. I am all he has. But you have the power to change this. Tell people the truth. Fix this. At least Give Oliver the chance at a life he deserves. Because you and I both know that what he has now, isn't it,"
He looked up at me, and I could see tears behind the rims of his glasses, glossing his blue eyes over with a wet glaze.
"I-I'm... I'm so worried about him. I can see that this... His life... I-It's killing him. People aren't meant to be alone like that... He stayed home from school yesterday and I visited his house and I found him crying and drunk in a back room. When I left I saw there was six other empty bottles of wine on his kitchen floor. Six,"
My eyes stung with tears and my throat constricted in that way it does when it's trying not to let out a scream. I was very very worried for him. When I found him yesterday sobbing over a piano and singing the saddest song I knew, I started to cry.
"I don't know what else to do...I'm afraid I'm going to lose him. I'm afraid I'm going to wake up one morning and call him, and he won't... H-he won't answer... I'm scared... I'm so scared. Without him I have nothing,"
The last sentence came out at a shaky whisper, shocking myself with the weight those words placed on me.
Alfred finally spoke after a very long moment of silence.
"I'll do it," He said. "I'm gonna to do it. I can't live with this guilt anymore and if you're as worried as you say are about him... Then... I can't just sit by anymore. I've sat and watched people torture him for years, and been too cowardly to do anything but... Not anymore,"
He then reached out and hugged me tightly, taking my breath away. Literally.
"I'm doing it for him and for you. Helping you guys is going to be the first great thing I'm doing in my life,"
"A-Alfred. Let... Go..." I chose to ignore the power of his words, and the rush of pride threat welled up in me when he said them.
He released me with a happy laugh and I backed up quickly do he wouldn't do it again.
"Thank you," I said. "You're basically saving his life and... I can't thank you enough for this," I said, scratching the back of my neck.
"Of course dude!" He replied, his momentary show of any emotion deeper than hunger or idiotic joy completely gone. "Anything to help the needy! I guess this makes me kind of a hero, huh?"
"Save it for those girls who follow you around all the time," I said.
He chuckled. "They don't interest me much,"
"Meaning....?" I raised an eyebrow.
"I've uh..." He coughed awkwardly. "I've got my eyes on someone,"
"Well, I wish you luck with her and now-"
"Him."
"What?"
"Him. It's a guy."
What?
But you seem so... So Hetero.
You are full of surprises, Jones.
"O-oh. Well then. Good luck. With him,"
I said, backing out of the bathroom slowly.
"Oh and one more thing," I said, holding the door open a bit. "Don't tell everyone until Wednesday,"
"Why do you have to make my heroic duties wait?" He pouted, looking vaguely like a small puppy.
"It's... It's Oliver's birthday,"