Chapter 81: Fauxpology

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Naomi had nothing to do—no classes or work—but she couldn't stay home. No matter that Ms. Rowe had left early in the morning. Naomi couldn't remain cooped up in her room all day. It wasn't good for her mental health and it wasn't good for the recovery of her injuries.

A walk would do her worlds of good. Or so she told herself.

Naomi managed to secure a pair of sneakers on her feet and a jacket over her arms, much to the chagrin of her aching leg and scraped palms. Whatever. This walk was for their benefit.

She took the elevator to the ground floor, plotted the trail in her head, and stepped out of the complex doors.

The first bit of her walk hurt. Badly. Her leg complained, her feet stumbled, and Naomi considered going back inside. However, if she couldn't even handle this, how was she supposed to fool her mother later?

Ms. Rowe would not take kindly to knowing her daughter had been injured, and all that rage would fall on Naomi instead of where it should be directed. Recently, Naomi had recognized that trend. How she had overlooked it before, she would never know.

How she would handle it when it arose again? Naomi didn't know that, either.

She had spent so many years bowing to every one of her mother's whims that she no longer knew how to claw her way out of the hole. Ms. Rowe certainly wouldn't take kindly to it, either.

A car purred to a stop at the curb, jerking Naomi out of her own thoughts.

Naomi glanced toward it, but she didn'tneed to see much to recognize it. Oliver's car. Fueled by anger and the need to avoid him, Naomi sped up.

"Naomi!" Oliver fumbled to get out of his vehicle. "Naomi, wait!"

Naomi didn't answer him. He didn't deserve an answer. Oliver had trampled on all the threads holding their friendship together. It would be better if he never appeared in her life again.

"Naomi!" Oliver jogged down the sidewalk, finally catching up enough to snag Naomi's elbow. "Naomi, can we just talk?"

Naomi jerked her arm away from his hold, spinning to face him at the same time so that she could see any evil intent as it came. "I thought I made it very clear last time we saw each other."

Oliver threw his hands up in surrender, or something of the like. "I admit, I got a little ahead of myself."

"Ahead of yourself?" Naomi scoffed at the term.

Oliver's words implied that there had been reciprocal affection from her side. That was a lie. Naomi had never seen Oliver as anything other than a friend. A point she had made explicit to him the last time they saw each other.

"I realize I'm moving too fast for you. You're just not ready, so I'm sorry."

"Not ready?" Naomi took a step away from him. "Oliver, I will never be ready for the two of us to be together. I don't like you romantically."

How many times would she have to say the same thing before Oliver understood?

"Not yet." Oliver's smile contained hope that Naomi had never given him. "You will. One day."

Naomi held up a hand to stop him before he could step forward or keep talking. "I won't. That's final. We can either stop here and be acquaintances, or I can call the police and get a restraining order."

Not that she had enough evidence for a restraining order, but Naomi figured that Oliver's brain wasn't firing on all cylinders. If he was insane enough to come back and give her the same spiel as last time, his mind clearly needed a reset.

Oliver's eyes went into sad puppy mode again, but this time Naomi knew better than to buy it. "You would call the cops on me?"

"With the way you're acting? In a heartbeat." Naomi took a few more tentative steps backward, wincing only once when her hip complained.

Unfortunately, Oliver noticed. "You're hurt? Where? Let me take you to the hospital."

Yeah, like she would get into a car with Oliver after all he had said. His diatribes lately were enough to convince Naomi of two things. One: Oliver and her mother had some sort of under-the-table deal going on. Two: Oliver was on a diving board just over the deep end.

"I'm fine, I just sprained a muscle." It wasn't the truth. It wasn't a lie. It was a carefully crafted statement that Naomi hoped Oliver would accept as an explanation.

"Did you at least have someone look at it?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah. I did." That one was a lie, technically. The EMTs had looked at it, but that was far from an extensive examination.

"Good morning, Naomi!" Claire's voice carried down the street like the sweetest angel music.

Naomi turned toward the sound of her friend, silently begging her to hurry it up.

Claire seemed to understand, jogging to Naomi's side before she stopped and turned to grin at Oliver. "Mornin', Olly. Are you out here being a jerkwad again?"

"Claire." Oliver shot her a glare so intense it made Naomi stop breathing. "What did you tell her about me?"

"Oh, that?" Claire flicked a hand through the air in a silent pshaw. "I told her the truth."

"The truth? Really?" Oliver's glare turned to Naomi. "So this hellcat is why you're pushing me away?"

"No. I'm pushing you away because you're becoming obsessive. Because I don't like you." If she had to say it one more time, Naomi might scream.

Oliver took a step forward, too threatening to have good intentions.

Claire lifted a hand, a taser held in her grasp. "Take one more step toward Naomi or attempt to lay a finger on her and you will wish you hadn't."

"Didn't you have some big revenge plan against me? Because you still like me?" Oliver scoffed at the girl with the taser. "Why are you on her side now?"

"I don't know, maybe because she's a better person and like fifteen-hundred times less insane than you are?" Claire clicked a fingernail on the side of the taser. "Don't test me, Olly."

Naomi grabbed a hold of Claire's free arm, trying to stabilize the situation. "Claire, can we just leave?"

For a long moment, Claire and Oliver just stared at each other, as if both wondered what the other would do about the situation.

Then, Claire heaved a sigh. "Yeah, sure. Let's do mani-pedis, okay?"

"Okay."

Whatever it took to get away from Oliver and his insanity.

"I said I'm sorry!" Oliver called after the girls as they walked away.

Naomi chose not to listen to him, not for the apology or for anything he may have said after. Because he didn't mean it. It was a means to an end. And she wouldn't take part in his crazy plans.  

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