Lost in the Space Between

Chapter 5

Oliver's POV;

 I feel so stupid. I mean, I am stupid, for letting myself actually fall for some stupid guy I just met. How ridiculous can I be?! My stomach makes some sort of rumble. Oh, right. I gave that jerk my lunch. I scramble to find money to buy a snack from the nearest vending machine. But I find nothing but a rusty dime in my pocket. I sigh heavily as my stomach sings along too. I try to recall the last place I had put my lunch money. Something jogs my memory. I facepalm myself as I remember that I left it on the kitchen counter as I was gulping down the last of my breakfast sausage. Today is really not my day. I walk outside to the yard where many students are eating their lunches. Today was not a good day to sit outside, the grass is all muddy from last night's storm and from this morning's drizzle. Some of the students start heading inside, probably due to the yards' condition. I head back inside and find my locker. I put in my combination and open it to find a note. "The hell is this thing..?" I mutter to myself. I open up the note and read:

Dearest Oliver Benson,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, obviously, you should be. I want to apologize for how I acted with your sister in the cafeteria, as it was both inappropriate and completely ridiculous of me to do. (Ah, so it's from him.) I was hoping you could meet me in the park, the one near your house, after school? I understand if you don't want to, but I'd just like to explain. Mostly about what happened in the cafeteria, but also about everything else. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me and we can move on with our lives from this particular situation.

Lots of love,

Jackson Scott

I marvel at the fact that Jack had the time (and the decency) to write me a letter and actually apologize to me for what he had done. Part of me is yelling "No! Don't meet him in the park! Let him feel your anger and wrath," and another part of me is saying, "He's apologizing, show him that you care and that you're willing to listen to what he has to say." I gently knock my head against my locker door and I set my textbooks inside. I close my locker and I slump against it. I feel tears trace down my face, but I barely notice that I'm crying at all. I look down at my hands and I hear someone sit down next to me. I glance over to my left and there's Simon Reed, rubbing a hand on my back and pulling me close to him.

"Shh, what's wrong?" I don't say anything for a while and neither does he, so he just continues to rub my back. I cling onto his shirt and I cry. I cry more than I have in my entire life. Simon hugs me tightly and whispers sweet-nothings in my ear for who knows how long. The bell rings and that lets me know that lunch is over and that the hallway will soon be filled with teenagers. Simon wipes the rest of my tears away with the back of his sleeve and he smiles at me. Simon has been my best friend since preschool. I've known him since, well, forever. He's been there for the ups and downs in my life, and I've been there for his. We're each other's support, and we thrive because of that and each other.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away this morning," I sniff between cries. "I'm sorry I didn't look at your text." I can almost feel Simon smile, and when I look up, he is.

"Don't apologize, Olive," he says softly. He pushes my hair back, something he's always done, and pulls me back into his chest. I love moments like these, where one of us is at our lowest and the other comes to save us from our misery. "Now, what's wrong?" I want to say "nothing" but I think that would be a bad idea. I shrug instead, which isn't technically an answer, but I don't feel like explaining. Simon pouts but doesn't push the topic any further. He looks up and I follow his gaze. Ah right, students. We both stand up and I hug him one more time before letting go of him. Simon plants a kiss on my forehead (another thing he keeps doing) and I wave him off to his next class. I feel a smile spread across my face. Simon's pansexual, meaning that he's into anything and everybody. You could be a chair and he'd still love the shit out of you.