If We Were Heroes | ONC2022

chapter one

chapter one: I make friends with a human pencil

There was nothing I hated more than birthday parties. 

Large crowds made me uncomfortable, and I hated being the center of anybody's attention. Which is probably why I felt so uncomfortable at Ethan McKinnon's tenth birthday party. 

My mom and I had picked out a Power Rangers set, the closest one to the one he wanted without spending too much money. He had pretty much ignored it when I'd given it to him, but I knew he would look at it later, without everyone there. He was just like that sometimes. 

I'm not sure how old I was exactly when I'd first met Ethan, but we must've been family friends as we had known each other for what seemed like forever. 

He was the one who answered for me on the first day of first grade. He was my partner in every project, my unofficial seat partner at lunch. I was the first person he gave an invitation to, despite his other friends and girls crowding around him. 

Anyways, all things considered, I still felt overly uncomfortable at his birthday party, with dozens of screaming kids and people from our class who I didn't know existed. 

Out of at least twelve others, I could only name three people I knew. Though, being covered in red paint from head to toe didn't exactly help me distinguish them. I hated that Ethan had to impress them, and in doing that, he ignored me. 

I winced at the physical touch as I watched them decorate cookies, sitting under a table in the corner. My orange printed party hat was lopsided and the only thing I wanted was to go home, eat a packet of chips, and go to bed. 

I didn't care if it was Ethan's birthday. He seemed to have plenty of other friends he could play with. 

Until I met Mia. Or more accurately, Mia felt sorry for me, and being the angel that she was, even at the grand old age of nine, crawled under the table and said hi. 

I waved a shy hello in return. 

The first thing I noticed about her was that she had a pink and purple polka dot dress on, complete with a giant, glittered bow. 

The second thing I noticed was that she was unusually skinny and tall, like she had been stretched at Willy Wonka's chocolate factory like Violet Beauregarde. Complete with a shiny silver party hat, she looked like a human pencil. 

"Whatcha doing?" she asked, scooching closer to me. 

I shrugged. "Nothing." 

"Well," she said, "You're obviously not doing nothing. You're talking to me." 

I nodded dumbly. 

She stuck out a pale hand. "I'm Mia." 

"Olive." I took her hand gingerly. 

"You're in Ethan's class right?" 

Nodding, I looked around, as if there were someone going to jump out and kill me for saying I was in Ethan's class. 

"Cool," she replied, flashing a toothy grin. "I'm in the grade below." 

"Oliver! Mia!" 

Ethan's dad had finally noticed us, forgotten toys under a dusty bed. He waved us over, swinging a baseball bat as Red Ranger spun in determined circles, hanging from the ceiling. 

"Come on!" Mia called, dragging me to a line of sugar-high kids, whacking everything in sight except for poor Red Ranger. 

Ethan's dad placed a blindfold over my eyes as I took the baseball bat and swung blindly. Except I wasn't blind. Despite the blindfold, I could still see the blurry outlines of shapes, as if I were swimming underwater. 

Biting my lip, I put it down to a thin cloth and made my way to the vague outline of Red Ranger. 

The sound of glass smashing filled my ears, followed quickly by Ethan's dad shouting. 

I yanked my blindfold off, my eyes widening in horror. I had broken Mrs McKinnon's prize china vase. I'd been at their house enough times to know how much she loved that vase. 

The next thing I knew, my feet were swimming in a puddle of crimson, more and more spurting out from a deep gash on my ankle. 

"Hang on, Olive," Ethan's dad said, a wild, panicked look in his eyes. "We're getting you to hospital." 

The pain followed soon after, a thousand knives plunged my skin. My mind flashed to the Evil Queen in Snow White, forced to dance around in red hot shoes until she died. Yeah. That was me. 

I got four stitches that day, but somehow the only thing I could think about was the broken vase. I'd have to pay for it, if I didn't get hurt. 

And I swear I hadn't swung the bat at the vase. I'd swung it at… 

Ethan. 

I'm not exactly sure how I knew I would've hit Ethan, if I didn't hit the vase. It was just a feeling, deep down in my gut, that I knew was right. And I knew I never could've lived it down if I had hurt him. 

I'd never seen him like he was in my head; wide frightened eyes, like a rabbit in the middle of a road. He was afraid of me. Everyone was. 

I could see it clearly now. The swing. The dead crack of wood. His bright eyes turning glassy as I gazed at his still body in absolute horror. 

"Olive." 

I blinked, trying to refocus on the Ethan in front of me, looking like he was about to cry as I sat on his sofa, waiting for my parents to arrive. 

"I'm sorry you got hurt," he said. 

I shrugged. "S'okay." 

"I saw your swing," he confessed, "you would've hit me." 

"I know." 

"It was like I switched places with the vase last minute."  

I took a deep breath. "Did anyone else see?" 

He thought about it, then gave a firm shake of his head. 

Looking around for any grown ups, I took his hands. "You can't tell anyone." 

He gazed back at me. "I won't." 

I forced my eyes to look away, my cheeks not to warm. 

"We're still friends, right?" I asked, cautiously. 

"Yeah," he said, without hesitation. 

We said nothing for a while, both suddenly filled with a type of embarrassment that came with the silence. I didn't dare to look at him. 

"Does it hurt?" Ethan blurted, breaking the wall of quiet. 

"Like hell," I replied. "Wish it could've been someone else." 

Ethan snorted. "Like Doug Colley." 

My mouth twitched involuntarily. 

"I'm glad it wasn't you," I said. 

Ethan's eyes darted to mine for a split second. "I guess." 

It was then that I swore I'd never let any harm come his way.

I just wish I could've known how much we would change. 

word count: 1112
total words: 1112