always and forever

i hate oliver brooks

Two things you need to know about me.

1. My name is Indica Brown (yes, my parents were hippie stoners back in the day)

2. I hate everything about Oliver Brooks

Why, you ask? Well for starters, he hated me first.

First year at Freewood Middle School. I had just moved here after my mom died from her cancer, and my dad was looking for a fresh start. We moved into a nice house with nice flowers and nice neighbors. We were the Browns, just your average middle-class single-parent family. We brought cookies, visited families, all that shit, but we were dead inside.

My dad is a miracle worker, though. He lost the love of his life and still helps me whenever I need it. He is my best friend and the best person I have ever met.

Anyway, back to the story. First day at Freewood. I got all cute (and by cute I mean some horrible layers and something with an emoji or a mustache on it), spent an hour getting ready, put on my backpack, and headed out the door. I remember getting on the bus and seeing Oliver. I really wanted to be his friend, too. I sat by him and offered him a cookie that my dad had baked for the first day of school, and he took it. We talked the whole bus ride about everything important to us at the time (minus my mother, of course), and became best friends.

We were inseparable all throughout middle school. It was Indie and Oli, Oli and Indie. Everyone knew we were best friends.

When the end of 8th grade rolled around, all we talked about was highschool. How fun it would be, what classes we would get, everything. That summer, though, he never answered my calls. When I went to his house, he told me to go away. I didn't, and still don't understand. I knew I couldn't have labeled it then, but we called it a friendship when we knew it was love. I had loved Oliver Brown, and he had shut me out.

I spent the whole summer crying in my room alone.

Then, 9th grade at Freedom High School came along. I was still hopeful for some fucking reason. I showed up with my face held high. Our town is pretty small, so everyone knew something was off when the most popular friendship suddenly ended over the summer. I went to my A1 English class. And sat by him. I fucking sat by him. I gave him a cookie and said "Remember this?"

He looked up with tears in his eyes and moved. He stood the fuck up and walked to another seat.

He had no right to cry.

That brings us to the present day.

I'm 17 years old and it's my junior year at Freedom. I made new friends pretty easily, and haven't talked to Oli since.