Between Friends and Lovers

(10) Oliver

In all the years I’ve been with Diane, I’d never thought that I’d ever get to the point where basic affection felt like a chore.

Whenever we became affectionate, basic instinct took over. I wasn’t as invested in it as I was before. If I were to be truthful, that worried me a little.

I loved Diane and didn’t imagine our relationship ending any time soon, but this part of the relationship that we were in didn’t give me much hope for the future.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, her eyes twinkling. She placed her hand on my chest, pushing me to lean on my car and leaning her body on mine. “I’m also very happy that we are no longer in a long-distance relationship. That was a buzz kill.”

I didn’t know what to say about that. Diane was a ticking time bomb even if she looked and sounded happy. I knew that if I said one wrong thing, she’d explode. So, instead of replying, I placed my hands on her waist, pulling her even closer—if that was possible.

I kissed her, and, as if it was second nature to her, she kissed me back immediately.

Kissing her used to feel thrilling. But now it felt almost draining. Instead of being in the moment, I now used it as a time to think about what I would say when we pulled apart. I thought that kissing Diane would get better with time, but it had been the opposite.

In my mind, I’d always thought that kissing the person you love didn’t get old. But that could be me being stuck on some old fairytale that didn’t hold water in this generation.

But still, it bothered me. Way more than I’d like to admit.

“I hate to ruin this moment,” she giggled before giving me a peck and pulling away. “But we need to talk about the party.”

I sighed. “Diane...”

“No, listen.” She took a step back, biting her lip before saying, “I’m doing this for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes.” She beamed like she always did whenever she had a good idea. “I was thinking that since you can’t play and that will affect your popularity, you should do something to solidify your status.”

I stared at her in confusion. When it came to me playing, I thought she’d be more worried about the reason why I couldn’t play, not how it was going to affect my popularity. Mainly because she knew that I didn’t care about popularity, I’d watch it destroy my parents’ marriage so I didn’t want any of it.

Being the son of a well-known hockey player came with a lot of unwanted attention. Ever since I was young, I was known as Maxwell Castellanos’ son, and everyone wanted to see if I’d follow in his footsteps. And when I did, that earned me popularity from my peers and everyone who knew my father.

“I don’t see the need,” I told her honestly. “I don’t care about popularity.”

“Well, I care.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s very important to me.”

‘Then you should be with someone who also cared,’  the thought passed through my mind, but I didn’t make the mistake of voicing it. I knew that if I did, that would lead to an argument that would surely end with a breakup. Then I’d spend close to two weeks begging her to forgive me.

I wasn’t in the mood to do that song and dance. I already had a full schedule for the upcoming week. Grovelling wasn’t part of it.

“Think about it, Oliver.” She pursed her mouth. “Theodore is popular, and people love him. If you’re seen at his party, then that would help you stay popular.”