The Strength of Us

Chapter Twenty-Two - It's Not Old News To Me

Chapter Twenty-Two - "It's Not Old News To Me"

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The first time I saw Oliver completely bent out of shape and enraged with anger was when his dad had the accident.

He kept thinking "why did it have to be my dad" and "he didn't deserve this". I'd never seen him that angry before since he's a pretty happy-go-lucky kid; but his dad's accident tore him apart. Even though Oliver was only 12 when it happened, he seemed a lot more mature than that.

And as Oliver walked into the kitchen to see Travis and I kissing, it brought me back to seeing that 12-year-old broken boy. Except this time, it was because of me.

Within a few seconds, Oliver's eyes went from heartbroken, to confused, to fuming. I felt frozen in Travis' grip and I literally couldn't move. So I stayed put and watched Oliver storm up to us.

"What the fuck?" He growled. His one hand held tightly onto my shoulder and the other grabbed onto a fistful of fabric at Travis' chest.

"Oliver," I tried. But I know nothing is going to work, no matter what I say. He's in too deep with his anger.

"Dude relax," Travis chuckled drunkenly, rolling his hazy eyes.

"No, I'm not gonna relax. Get the fuck off my girlfriend," Oliver shoved him away angrily and I was released. Here we go.

"Oliver, stop-"

"Stay out of this," he turned to me briefly and I saw the fire in his eyes. But I ignored it because of what he said.

"Stay out of it? I'm in it," I retorted, giving him a muddled look. He glanced back at me again but didn't say anything, then he turned back to Travis.

"Didn't you hear her the first time? When she said to leave her alone? Can't you take a hint?" Oliver started ganging up on Travis and I stood with my feet glued to the ground. Move your feet, stupid.

"She was, um- she wasn't doing it-" Travis slurred, stumbling over his own feet as he backed into the wall. Oliver kept walking until Travis couldn't back away anymore, then he grabbed onto Travis' collar and pushed him against the wall.

"She doesn't fucking want you, man. Don't you get that?" Oliver spoke in a snarky tone, shoving Travis again.

I have a feeling that if I don't move now, Oliver is going to beat Travis to a bloody pulp. And not that I wouldn't appreciate that because part of me would love to see Travis suffer, but I don't need a scene to be caused, nor do I need the drama.

Also, I have my dad's good-guy gene, so I'd live with it hanging in my conscience for the rest of my life if I just stood here and watched Travis get pummeled by Oliver. I would never be able to forgive myself.

So I finally picked up my feet and went over to Oliver, yanking on his arm and trying to pull him off of Travis.

"Oliver, stop it," I shouted over his fire-fueled comments and Travis' incoherent mumbling.

"She doesn't want you and she never will – get the fuck over it," Oliver just rambled right through my words.

I tugged on his arm again and again, gritting my teeth and trying my hardest to get him away. I should probably start going to the gym – you never know when you need to pry your boyfriend away from your overly-drunken ex.

"Oliver!"

"If you keep harassing her I swear to God-"

"Stop! He's drunk, leave him alone!" I screamed, pulling on his arm as hard as I could and prying him away. Adrenaline rush, I guess.