Psychopath. (bwwm) ✓

18. interracial preferences and losers.

(Therapy by All Time Low)

| 18. | interracial preferences and losers.

"Where are we going?" I'd asked Oliver as he pulled me out of the back cafeteria door that led outside. The only thing back there was a parking lot and some portable classrooms. Tugging me by the hand, he stopped; my gaze was set on our intertwined fingers as he tried to calm down.

I admired his pale hand and bruised knuckles, shivers running up my spine as I remembered what the cause of it was. His knuckles were slightly swollen but nothing too bad and I found myself rubbing my thumb over them.

He turned to look at me, his short sleeve shirt, showing off his tattoo and even though I didn't particularly like All Time Low, I had to admit that was a good lyric.

Oliver furrowed his eyebrows, looking over at me and biting his plush bottom lip, "I hadn't really thought that far."

"Wow, Oliver," I chuckled, shaking my head at him.

And for the rest of lunch, we sat in isolation, under a tree.

Now, that would be the extremely adorable, cliché moment in a movie where Oliver would look over at me and admit that I was the only one to make him feel okay... But this wasn't a movie and this tree was barely a tree.

And if we were being honest, Oliver barely knew me.

"So do we just lay here?"

Oliver chuckled, "my parole officer says to remove myself from triggering situations so I don't nearly kill anyone."

We were both lazily laid out in the grass and I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn't allergic to grass like Jackson. Realizing exactly what Oliver had said, I laughed, "Too late for that."

"Right?" He yawned, locking his hands behind his head. He didn't seem to have gotten enough sleep which was reasonable considering we were up until three A.M. and had to wake up for school at roughly seven.

Technically, we should've gotten up at six but that wasn't really a possibility.

I found myself smiling, recapping the night before; Oliver had not only beaten up my ex boyfriend but we'd kissed, something I'd wanted to do since I'd met him. Literally... Since I'd met him.

"You're something else, Oliver Remmer," I mocked him, turning my head to the side to admire his beautiful profile. His nose, although slightly pointy, was the perfect size for his face and his always slightly-pouted lips made me want to kiss him non-stop and his voluminous hair was blowing through the wind.

"That better be a good thing."

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"What the fuck happened to your face?" My mom had asked, me panicking for a bit. After I'd gotten to school, Kat had thankfully covered the bruise with Sidney's makeup and it was no longer noticeable.

I'd had Oliver drop me off at home, asking him to come in because my parents wouldn't interrogate me as much with witnesses... Well, that and the fact that I really wanted to get to know him more, avoiding talking about the kiss in fear that he'd reject me.

I mean, he told me I wasn't his type he'd even gotten to know me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, adrenaline pumping as my mother raised a dark eyebrow, lips pursed. Her hazel eyes were narrowed as she smirked slightly.

I envied how beautiful my mother was.

"You have a dopey grin on it," she finally smiled, showing her perfectly straight teeth and I thanked the Lord that she seemed so happy, "you look like your father."