Losing Oliver

Chapter 14

Declan and I went our separate ways as soon as we got to the school. He went to his locker, and I went to mine. Not a word was exchanged.

My hands worked at unlocking my locker while my wild bedhead hair fell in front of my face. My headache still made my head thump, and I couldn't focus on the code.

"Dämn it," I swore and gave up on the lock.

"Having some trouble there?" Someone beside me asked. The voice undeniably belonged to Lucas.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I can't manage to get it right.. It must be damaged," I murmured dismissively. I didn't really want to explain how I got drunk last night and slept over at Declan's.

His hands worked quickly after I told him the code, and he yanked open the lock easily. "There."

"Is there something you want?"

He looked at me and then down at his feet. "I guess it's stupid, but I wanted to apologize. I've been kind of a jerk lately, so I'm sorry."

This apology caught me by surprise. I leaned back against the locker and tilted my head as I studied his face. He looked awfully sincere. "I guess I can forgive you," I said with a smile. "But you're gonna have to make it up to me!"

He smiled widely back at me, beaming with happiness. "I will, I promise. Tell me when and how, and I'll do it."

"Now." I said simply.

"Now?"

"Yep," I looked up at him. "Let's get out of here."

Without any protest on his part, I grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the back exit of the school.

~

"You sure you wanna do this?" Lucas asked as he dug in his pocket.

"Why would I ask if I didn't?" I countered his question.

We stood behind the school, the place where I first encountered my new group of friends. My back was pressed against the brick wall, and Lucas stood in front of me. A lit cigarette sat between his lips as he pulled out a pack full of them.

"You can back out, you know." He  said and handed one to her.

"Dămn it, Lucas, just light it for me." I said with irritation clear in my voice. He shook his head while I held it the end out.

A flame flickered from his lighter and danced on the end of the cigarette. It now glowed a slight orange. Seeing it made me hesitate, yet it was also much more appealing. Do it, the bad side of me said. Don't, said the sensible part. It would make sense for me to listen to the logical side of me, right? Sadly, that part of me got pushed to the back of my mind along with all the memories of Oliver I never wanted to remember again.

With nothing stopping me anymore, I inhaled the smoke willingly. It felt gross as I began to cough, but after the coughing ceased, it felt kind of nice. There was a tickle at the back of my throat, yet I ignored it.

"Yeah, that happens the first time."

I looked at the cigarette and shrugged. "It's not that bad." My voice was a bit hoarse and scratchy, making me clear my throat. "When was the first time you tried one?"

"About 3 years ago, when I was 15." He scratched his chin and threw the butt of his own cigarette on the ground. The tip of his shoe dug into it, putting it out.

"Wow, you were pretty young."

"Yeah, I stopped for awhile, but I just started up again a couple months ago." I watched his eyes as they studied the smoke rising from the ground where the remnants of the cigarette laid.

"Why's that?" I asked before thinking about it. After asking, I counted the months in my head.

Two months ago was Oliver's diagnosis.

"Connect the dots yet?" He rose an eyebrow at me.

"..Yeah."

Oliver was still kind of a sore subject between us, obviously. To avoid anything else from coming out my mouth, I stuck the cigarette between my lips.

"Hey, guys!" A cheery Zeke rounded the school corner, giddy as always. Following him was Payton, who looked certainly surprised to see us.

"Woah, Luce. Get that thing outta your mouth," she plucked the cigarette from its place, sitting in my mouth. "Don't get into this nasty habit. Lucas Randall, did  you give this to her?"

"It's not-" He began to protest but was interrupted when Payton's hand met the back of his head with a smack.

"Don't argue with me." This bright eyed, blue haired, and petite girl was sure intimidating when she wanted to be.

After much chastising from Mama Payton, I threw away the cigarette and followed her as she dragged me toward the school bathroom.

"Open your mouth." She commanded with no expression on her face.

"Huh?" I couldn't tell if she was serious or joking. She was always upbeat and charming, so it was weird for me to actually see her serious.

"I said, open your mouth. You don't wanna smell like a chimney when you get back to class," She spoke in a "duh" tone. She opened the large purse she was carrying and pulled out a toothbrush. "You're lucky I carry a bunch of these for the boys."

"I can do it myself," I rolled my eyes at her.

"I don't need your sass, girly!" Payton pointed a stern finger at me. She pulled a t-shirt out of the same purse she did the toothbrush. "Take off your shirt, too."

"This is a bit excessive, don't you think?"

She gave me a look before sighing, "This is what you get for even trying that nastiness! Plus, the teachers here are like bloodhounds when it comes to smelling smoke. Ask Declan and Zeke. If Mr. Mulligan had a quarter for every time he caught one of those two, he would be able to quit his shïtty job and retire in Paris!"

"Fine," I groaned in defeat and did as she said.

If how those cigarettes tasted didn't make me stay away from them, my fear of serious Payton would.

~

When I got back to class, everyone was whispering amongst each other, and it wasn't about me being late.

"Late pass?" Mr. Mulligan, also known as Lazy Mully, grumbled with only one eye open and looking at me. He was leaning back in his comfortable chair (which he bought himself) and seemed to have been falling asleep before I walked in.

I threw the little red late slip on the desk in front of him. "Here. Sorry."

"Good. Sit and work on the late work I know you have," he gave me a pointed look.

I missed a few assignments over the last week and a half, due to Oliver's funeral and my.... personal days. So what? It wasn't like we actually did anything in this history class.

I walked toward the back of the room to my seat and overhead two girls talking.

"I can't believe she did that!"
"Is she like, sick in the head?"
"Must be. Poor girl."
"It was probably because of Oliver..."

They were talking about Emmy.

I sat down and nervously played with my hands. What if they find out about the abuse? Oliver's reputation would be destroyed, and he wouldn't even be able to defend himself... Why am I even defending him?

Because you're still in love with him, said the voice in the back of my head.

And though I hated to admit it, that little voice was completely and devastatingly right.

And there was no denying it. As much as I wanted to hate him, Oliver still held a special place in my heart, a place where he would stay forever.

~