Oliver is a manga artist, but he was once an angry little boy with a sunny best friend: Ian Miller. Then, one day, they weren't friends anymore. Oliver doesn't know when was it exactly that Ian disappeared from his life, and refuses to remember why...
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I got sick after all.
Karma for lying? Stress? Walking barefoot on a cold tile floor right after showering? Take your pick.
This means that I've slept, though— a lot. It means that I don't know what day it is. I have vague images of my mom placing cold rags on my forehead, me drinking chicken soup and watching some of MHA's new episodes that are still running in the back.
And now, after a shower, a Friends episode with Chloe and my brain functioning a little better, it dawns on me that it's been long enough for Ethan to have done whatever he was about to do. That it's been long enough for Ian to have not talked to me for exactly that long.
Three days.
Three days when he was the one that dragged me into this. He...begged me or whatever, and then he doesn't care? He just...fucking abandons me? I guess I've been worried about the wrong thing— it wasn't me that was gonna run away, huh?
Fuck it— I'll cave, fine. I'm calling him since texting clearly doesn't mean anything. My knee's bouncing and I don't even know what I'll say but he better pick up.
"Oliver! I'm so sorry, I can't talk right now."
How freaking conveni—
"I'm with Ethan."
Do you know that expression? 'My stomach dropped' or... 'heart stuck in your throat' and all? That. It doesn't feel metaphorical, either. Here's another expression: You fucking whore.
No, he's not a whore. He's not...mine and why would I want him to be mine? Why should anyone be anybody's?Ethan, though? That fucking whore.
Why didn't I stop it.
But what would I have done if given the chance, anyway? It's not like I would have asked him out myself, right? So what am I really mourning? And Ethan's an idiot, but an idiot that's fun to be around. That's probably why he picked him.
So even if I had...whatever,that's still the kind of guy he wants, right? So... So he shouldn't have told me all that shit, then. Fuck hi—
"We're in the emergency room."
What? "What?"
"Yeah, we—"
I clutch my phone and stand right up. My blood runs cold and that doesn't feel like an expression, either. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine!" Oh, thank fuck."It's Ethan that broke his arm, and we've been in the ER forever. I don't know what they're waiting for!"
