the Secret Life of Damien Carmichael

10. Insecurity

It had been raining since Friday and by the time Carrie and Damien had decided to meet up for their usual Saturday night drink in their usual spot in the forest, the area had been largely flooded, and was thick with mud. Damien frowned at the ground beneath his feet, as he leaned against a tree, only a navy blue poncho keeping him dry. It was hardly stylish, but it was school issue, with the Westlake insignia emblazoned in gold on its front. A large, stylized W that looked more like two V's intersecting in the middle.

"I don't suppose you actually have any alcohol," Damien said, a chill ran through him causing him to shiver.

"No, but Oliver does," she said. Damien nodded, trying not to look too interested in Oliver being invited once more into their little hangout. It hadn't exactly gone well the last time he had been there, and Damien didn't want a repeat of that particular event.

Damien swallowed, both his pride and the growing lump in his throat at the thought of Oliver showing up. He didn't even know why he was so nervous. It wasn't as if he hadn't ever spoken with Oliver. He knew him rather well by now, and they were friendly enough. Despite Damien's better efforts to completely annihilate any chance of them ever having a friendship before it could begin. He didn't want to think too hard about why he was so self destructive. The point was, he could do better, he told himself. And he would.

Oliver arrived nearly ten minutes later, wearing the same poncho as Damien and yet somehow pulling it off a hell of a lot better. Damien tried not to be to annoyed by that fact. He dropped his backpack off his shoulder and unzipped it, pulling out a bottle of vodka, and handed it to Carrie who took it with a grateful smile. 

"How is it you're always so well stocked?" Damien asked, eyeing him suspiciously. Oliver merely smirked, and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the side pocket of his backpack and tossed them to Damien. He blushed crimson as he caught them, unwrapping them quickly. It felt like forever since he'd had a smoke.

Damien put the cigarette to his lips, feeling up his poncho and his pockets for a lighter, only to come up empty handed. He frowned, Oliver smirked again, pulling out a lighter from his back pocket, and held it to the cigarette between Damien's lips. Damien blushed impossibly darker, grateful that the only light in the forest came from both the and the floodlights on the side of the Castle, though neither quite reached the part of the forest where they were currently hidden. And the soft glow of the end of his cigarette.

"So, Halloween is a week and a half away, any special plans?" Oliver asked, as though he hadn't just done something terribly romantic. Carrie eyed him, and shrugged taking another sip of vodka. Oliver turned to Damien. Damien swallowed, wanting to look cool and unaffected, but for the life of him he couldn't manage to form a coherent sentence in his mind, let alone out loud.

"Not really," he said lamely. 

"Too bad, I've just heard of this wicked college party in town, might be something to check out," he said with a casual shrug.

Damien and Carrie shared a look. They weren't technically allowed off campus. Parents were expected to drop their children off at the beginning of term and pick them up during breaks if they were intending to go anywhere. Not that there was really anywhere to go. Westlake Prep owned the vast majority of the surrounding property for several acres. The nearest town was the Westlake township and that was almost a good thirty minute drive from the school.

"You mean you've got a way out of here?" Carrie asked, snatching the cigarette from Damien's fingers.

"Call a car," Oliver said with a shrug. Damien stared at Carrie for a moment, then back at Oliver. Why hadn't I thought of that? Oliver took the bottle of vodka and the cigarette. Taking a shot, and a drag.