Oliver Loves Carson | ✔️

chapter two

It had been a month and a half since Oliver had seen Carson Katsaros.

Okay, so that was a lie. Oliver had seen his face in the halls--to which Carson had always grinned at him like they were old friends and Oliver had always hastily looked away. School had started now, and Oliver sort of wanted to bash his head against the Empire State Building, but he figured that he probably wouldn't die from that.

Maybe brain damage was better than nothing.

There was a swim meet today, and usually, there were a couple of students who would go to the pool and watch. Oliver had never been one of those people--he didn't like water, or the idea of drowning, or people--and Oliver had never thought that he would be one of those people.

That was until Celia Orlov had come up to him.

She grinned, and it was then that Oliver realized that he didn't know why he was friends with her. She pissed him off. To be fair though, in a world where most people pissed him off, she pissed him off a little less. "Livvy!" she exclaimed when she saw Oliver, throwing her arms around his neck and causing him to stumble. She was quite a bit shorter than Oliver, and the top of her head just barely touched his chin, causing him to get a mouthful of hair.

Oliver rolled his eyes and pried Celia's hands away from his neck. He glared at her. "Do not call me Livvy, understand?"

The corner of her lip lifted up into a lazy smirk. "Whatever you say, Liv."

Celia Orlov had been Oliver's sort-of friend since eighth grade. Well, truly, Oliver didn't have any friends. Celia was the closest he'd had. He figured that was okay though, because she never appeared to have any friends either.

She showed up every once in awhile with mischief twinkling in her eyes and a stupid idea in her head--one that she usually made Oliver act on with her. Otherwise, she really wasn't there. At first, Oliver had found it weird. He didn't see her in school or in class or anywhere--as if she disappeared. And then, after a week or so, she would show up once again with another plan. Eventually, Oliver had gotten used to her impulsive and mysterious tendencies, and they had a mutual unspoken agreement--Oliver wouldn't ask, and Celia didn't have to worry about telling.

They weren't the usual type of friends--they didn't braid each other's hair or tell each other secrets. Simply put, he was Celia's adventure partner whenever she felt like going on an adventure. Oliver secretly didn't mind as much as he pretended to.

Celia reminded him of an eagle. Calculating, powerful, and vicious when provoked. Her auburn hair hung loosely around her shoulders, tucked inside of a beanie. A glint of metal shone along her eyebrow, a curved barbell put in place where it usually was. Her sly brown eyes were dark and menacing and almost seemed to smolder, boring into Oliver's eyes, under the lighting.

She swung her arm into the crook of his elbow, linking them together. "It appears that it's your lucky day." She said as she dragged him along, making him stroll next to her down the hallway.

"Another plan?"

"Well, yes. Sort of. But don't worry, we're not going to set Mr. Kumar's plants on fire again." She gave him a knowing glance. Mr. Kumar was their freshman world history teacher, and he had lulled them both to sleep on multiple occasions. "You see... I was thinking of you." Celia continued.

"Gross."

Celia made an irritated sound in the back of her throat. "Not like that. I was thinking of your inner despair."

Oliver's brows crinkled. "My inner... despair?"

"Precisely. You know, how you're still in the closet and such?" Celia winked at him.