floating | ✓

20| sweetheart

“All the world is made of faith, trust and pixie dust.”

- Peter Pan

20| sweetheart

I look up at Oliver. His eyes meet mine. I let go of Owen’s hand immediately.

“There’s your prince charming.” Owen nudges me, smirking and looking at Oliver.

In reply, I stay silent.

Oliver is glancing away, gazing at the people in the parking lot.

“So, I guess, I’m gonna go join my friends now,” Owen says, pointing at where his friends are hanging out around the parked cars. I can see Woody among them. He is wearing my cape.

I nod affirmatively, but Owen says, “What, no ‘Thank you’ for saving you in there?”

“For the times you screamed like a little girl and scared me?” I ask. “I think I’ll pass.”

Owen chuckles and then says, “See you around, Bradbury.”

He leaves to join his friends while I turn around and look at Oliver. He was silent when Owen and I were talking. He’s been silently waiting for me.

My heart squeezes as I look at him. I take a deep breath in and clear my throat.

Oliver glances at me and then glances over at the exit. He starts to leave. I follow him silently.

We walk out of the haunted house area and head towards home on foot. It’s almost 1 in the morning. The streets are empty. The night is silent, although there are noises coming from some houses due to late Halloween parties. There are not many people outside.

I try to come up with something to talk about. Silence with Oliver has always been comfortable. I remember the day we biked around the whole town. We were silent. But it was comfortable. It felt like we didn’t need words to fill up our silence. Just us being there in the moment was enough.

Today, the silence is heavy. It coils around my throat, making it hard for me to talk.

“So...,” I try. Oliver keeps walking on by my side.

“Did the haunted house haunt you?” I say, remembering Oliver telling me it wouldn’t haunt him.

Oliver doesn’t answer right away. I did not expect him to. I know him that much now.

“No, it didn’t,” after a moment, Oliver replies.

“Oh,” I reply. Then I have nothing to say.

I wish I was someone who comes up with ideas to completely turn around a situation. Yes, I can be random sometimes. But tonight doesn’t seem like a time when you talk about unicorn poop.

“But,” Oliver starts. I glance up at him and find him looking at me.

“After you disappeared through that mirror, and I couldn’t find you, it didn’t make me feel so great about the fact that I lost you there,” Oliver continues. “I was looking for you, calling your name, and...”

Oliver stares deep into my eyes.

“The people of that haunted house, the actors, they heard me, and wherever I went they kept telling me I would never find you, ever again,” Oliver says with his face hard, as he clenches his jaw.

Oliver’s eyes roam over me as if to check that I am really here with him right now, like he has never seen me before. “And I know it was absolutely ridiculous but those bastards...”