Our Secrets Will Kill Us // Oliver Sykes

Chapter Twelve: If Stupid Poems Could Fix This Home..

Title Song: Stay Together For The Kids by Blink-182


Amelia~


Shifting uncomfortably in the blue chair, I looked around the classroom, scanning for one person and one person only; Oliver.


It's been almost three weeks since I've last spoken to Oliver. I still give him my food during the lunch period but I don't talk or hang around him anymore. He made it clear that he doesn't want me around anymore so I'm doing him a favor by staying away from him.


Over these past three weeks, I've also grown closer to Alex. We hang out a lot after school and I learned a lot of things about him that I didn't know before. He's really sweet, they all are. Well, everyone except Mike. I can't help but feel like he had something to do with what happened to Oliver a while ago.


Our English teacher, Mr. Jenner, pulled me away from my thoughts. He was standing in front of the classroom, attempting to get everyone's attention. After about five minutes, he managed to get everyone to quiet down.


Mr. Jenner forced a smile, "Alright," He began, "As you all know, we've been reading biographies about people who were passionate about something. Now, I want to know what you've learned these past couple of weeks so I'm going to assign a partner project. Before any of you ask; no, you can't pick your own partners, I've already chosen them for you." His statement caused quiet groans from some of the other students but Mr. Jenner chose to ignore the students whining.


"So, for this project, you and your assinged partner will work outside of classroom on writing what both of you are passionate about. You can write about anything, reasing, sports, shows, music... anything is fine.


"The reason for this being a partner assignment is because I noticed some of you are very reserved. I want to take this opportunity to have some of you open up and possibly make new friends." He finished explaining, a small smile spread across his lips.


Mr. Jenner walked back to his desk and pulled out a small clipboard from one of the drawers. "Okay, so the partners have been assigned at random," He said, his eyes glancing down to the clipboard before looking back at us.


"Carolina and Savannah, you two will be working together." He stated.


"David and Robby."


"Mike and Tay."


"Alex and Harry."


"Kate and Antonio."


"Oliver and Amelia."


My eyes widened once my name left Mr. Jenner's mouth. I looked over at Oliver and saw him staring wide eyed at me. His expression went blank and he turned his attention back to the notebook he had set out in front of him.


Out of all the people in this classroom, why did Mr. Jenner have to partner me up with Oliver? Why couldn't I have been partnered up with Savannah or Alex? Hell, I'd prefer fucking Mike over Oliver. Anyone besides him.


It's not that I hate Oliver, I don't. I just don't want to be around him anymore. He obviously doesn't like me and he said it himself, he doesn't want me to hang around him anymore. Well, it's not like I can do anything about it. The sooner we get this project done, the sooner I can be away from Oliver again.


After Mr. Jenner finished announcing who was assigned to work with who. He told us that today and only today, he was allowing us to work on this project inside of the classroom. He also told us that he would be available after class if anyone had any questions or requests to be switched with a different partner.


Grabbing my backpack, I slowly walked towards Oliver's desk. I grabbed one of the chairs no one had been occupying and took a seat in front of his desk. Besides the chatter coming from the other students, there was silence. The air around us was tense and I could sense that he hated being stuck with me as much as I did.


I ran my fingers through my hair, sighing heavily, I looked back at Oliver. "Let's just get this over with." I muttered as I grabbed a notebook from my backpack. I flipped through the notebook until I landed on a clean sheet. After writing my name on the top of the paper, I looked back at Oliver. "So, what are you passionate about?" I asked, not trying to hide the impatience in my voice.


Oliver shrugged, "Nothing really.... well, besides music." He admitted. His answer caught me off gaurd but I pretended as if I didn't care. Honestly, I was happy that he had said music. That's one of the things I am most passionate about. I could write a whole book on the reasons why I love music if someone had asked me to.


"Okay, music it is." I mumbled as I wrote down the word onto the sheet of paper. Glancing back up at the clock, I sighed in relief once I saw that we only had fifteen minutes left of class. That meant we had spent at least twenty minutes sitting in silence but I didn't care. I was just glad that the class would soon be over.


Turning back to Oliver, I noticed he was trying to hide his pained expression. Ignoring his obvious discomfort, I asked, "So, do you want to work on this at your house? Or mine?"


Oliver didn't hesitate to answer, "Yours." He quickly replied. I raised an eyebrow at him but decided it was best to not question him about it. I didn't have a problem with working on this project at my house. I was kind of grateful that he had decided on doing it at my place. Seeing as it saved me from having to face Mr. or Mrs. Sykes again.


I didn't have to worry about having to introduce Oliver to my father. Seeing as my father spent the majority of the day at work, I knew we would have a couple of hours to ourselves. We have two weeks to finish this assignment and hopefully, we'll get things done before then.


Tearing out a piece of paper from my notebook, I wrote down on my address and handed it to Oliver. "Just come over whenever you feel like it. My dad doesn't come home eight so we have at least four hours to work on the assignment." I finished, forcing a smile.


Oliver~


Holding the crumbled paper in my hands, I looked at the numbers written on the side of the red door. Sure enough, they were the same numbers Amelia had written down on the paper. Meaning that I was now standing in front of this huge fucking house that belonged to her.


I should have known that she lived in a rich neighborhood. Her father, Micheal Taylor, is one of the well known business men here in Sheffield. I'm not exactly sure what it is he does but all I know is that he's well respected and looked up to by some of the other adults. I remember Mr. Taylor from Australia. He was really nice and seemed like a kind fellow but I never really spoke to him.


Pushing my thoughts away, I walked down the small pathway that led up to the front door. I rung the doorbel and patinetlly waited until Amelia finally answered. She was wearing sweatpants, a loose tank top and had her hair tied in a messy bun. I couldn't help but noticed how pretty she looked when she wasn't dressed up. Not that she didn't look pretty before but now, I had barely noticed how pretty she actually is.


"Hey." I greeted, attempting to break the awkward atmosphere that surrounded us. Amelia nodded in response, she let me into her home and I followed her into the living room. I awkwardly placed myself on their couch and looked down at my jeans. I messed with the rip in my pants, trying to distract myself from the uncomfortable tension in the room.


Amelia sighed, "Alright, so what kind of music do you like?" She asked, obviously trying to get a conversation going.


"Rock, metal core, genres along those lines." I replied, my voice holding no emotion. I didn't bother giving her a detailed answer, seeing as she probably listens to that pop crap the majority of the school listens to.


I noticed Amelia's eyes lit up with my answer, "Really?" She asked, seeming more excited than she was a couple of minutes ago. "Who's your favorite band?"


"Linkin Park." I answered without hesitation. They have for the longest time been my favorite band.


Amelia grinned, "Really? They're amazing. My favorite band is Blink-182."


My eyes widened slightly at her answer. I honestly wasn't expecting her to like that type of music. She didn't seem like the type to be into punk rock. Amelia chuckled lightly, "Wasn't expecting that were you?" She asked, a small smirk planted on her pink lips.


"Honestly, no. I wasn't. I was expecting you to give me some weird look and tell me that you liked The Back Street Boys or some crappy boy band like that." I answered, truthfully. For the next hour or so, we talked about all the different bands and music we liked. Turns out we liked a lot of the same bands.


I was so engulfed in our conversation that I hadn't noticed my sleeve had ridden up, reavealing some of the new bruises my father had made. I didn't noticed until I saw Amelia staring at my arm with wide eyes.