angel baby (heavy editing)

23.0

      Somehow, it became their thing. Oliver thought it was weird, really weird but Chris served listening ears. Actually Oliver wasn't sure if Chris was actually listening because he hadn't spoken a word to him. Oliver was sure he wasn't mute since he actually spoke a few words to him the night they started their weird encounter and he would sometimes see him at a distance speaking to his friend, Barbara, Bailey, he wasn't sure. So Oliver went on the internet and researched. What Chris had, or what he thought Chris might have was selective mutism. Various sources said it's caused by severe childhood trauma and Oliver was tempted to ask but the boy wouldn't speak to him. It was weird and unnerving that he was bothered by his existence. One minute he hated his guts but the other he was curious. He wasn't used to that. It bothered him enough to want to hit something, Chris preferably but that would be inconveniencing to say the least.
      The night after their first encounter, Oliver didn't know what made go back to the abandoned rail road but he did and he was surprised to find the other boy there. They both sat in silence for at least half an hour, maybe less, maybe way less but it felt like that to Oliver. Oliver broke it by lamenting how much he hated arts and everything arts related. He didn't even understand why he had to go to an art school. That made a frown appear on Chris' face. Oliver knew how much Chris loved art. Everybody at school, every art loving person at school fawned over him. He was good at it, amazing at it even and Oliver could admit that. Perhaps Oliver mentioning how much he hated arts and its forms was meant to get a reaction from Chris and he got one but it was not enough to make him speak. But Oliver really wanted him to speak and he wasn't going to give up until he did.
       On the third day, Chris brought along his sketchbook. Oliver thought back to the time Jacob took it and tore a page out of it, the page where he drew a stretch of his boyfriend, Paul. Oliver thought it was funny, how Jacob got a permanent scar on his face that would never fade and how much Chris cried. He almost chastised himself for laughing at the incident, almost. He was a troubled person. Chris would run the other way if he knew how much.
       The fourth day was weird, weirder than usual. Chris was already at the rail road when Oliver arrived. The moment he sighted Oliver, he stood up and left. Oliver stood there confused for a few seconds until he realized what happened. During one of his research, he found out one of the signs a person had Asperger's was the constant need for routine, a set pattern. Oliver had become one of Chris' routine and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel momentary pride until the feeling left him and he thought it was weird. Chris showed up the next day and stayed and a week and a few days passed with thier meet up continuing whereby Oliver would talk and Chris would listen, Oliver was telling himself that. During all these times, neither of the boys spoke in school or acknowledged knowing each other at school. Oliver was glad and as cliche and shallow as  his thought was, he still had a reputation to uphold.