Oliver Loves Carson | ✔️

epilogue

    Oliver was back here.

    Again.

    He was back to sitting inside of that stupid van parked on that quiet, suburban street. The one that had the bright pink ice cream cone sitting on top of it; the one that played that stupid little jingle as it cruised down the road. The one that he'd been sitting in every summer since his junior year of high school.

    The embarrassment of it all had worn off by now, after four long years. It'd worn off once he tripped onto his face exiting his first college lecture, once he'd accidentally called his music theory professor a bitch while she was standing right behind him--all things classically Oliver; things that somehow always left him with an imperceptible flush across his face.

    He quickly thumbed out a text to his friend Alya. They'd met at the beginning of freshman year and have been inseparable since--especially after he'd needed someone to replace Celia, who'd jetted off to Europe for college. Truthfully, he hadn't talked to her since.

    As Oliver tapped his fingers melodically across the dashboard, he felt a strange sense of calamity flood through him. Yeah, it was true that this job sucked--and the fact that he hasn't gotten much farther from his high school self--but truthfully, this job was his one constant. It was here, waiting for him, after every final, every breakup and every moment of adult frustration. Sometimes, Oliver couldn't help but think that he needed this job--with its shitty wages, lack of AC, and mindlessly boring hours, Oliver hadn't submitted a single internship application because he needed to be here. He needed to be in the place where being an adult was completely unallowed; he needed to be in this ice cream truck.

    Now that he was here, however, the heat was starting to get to him. He wiped his forehead before fanning himself with his hand. The rule was that he was supposed to stay parked ten minutes by a sidewalk and if nobody came after that, he should move on. His ten minutes were almost done. Maybe he could just....

    Laughter. Loud, boisterous laughter--the kind he's definitely heard before. A group of adults rounded the corner, and Oliver squinted at them. They looked about his age, which made sense since many kids went home for the summer. As soon as they got closer, though, Oliver's heart fell to his stomach.

    This was so not his day.

    Walking there was Carson-fucking-Katsaros, looking almost exactly like he did when Oliver had walked away from him for the last time.    

After the breakup, seeing Carson for the next year was awkward, to say the least. It was seeing each other and making quick eye contact before looking away, it was the one Facebook message from Carson's mom on Easter wishing him a "happy holidays!", it was seeing Carson walking across the stage to get his diploma and feeling a pang shoot through his heart.

Thinking back to the days when Oliver was a lost puppy just seemed... weird now.

    Sure, he's had his brief share of endeavors since then--not that any of them had worked out. There was the guy who broke up with him because he was too brash, the one who broke up with him because he was bad with parents, the one who left on their first date because Oliver didn't look like his Grindr picture.

    Whatever that meant.

    All of them had been... different. Even thinking about the dating that went down that fateful junior year makes him roll his eyes at how utterly cringy it was.

But back then? Back then it felt like the end of his world.

He'd done nothing but lay in bed and cry for the next few weeks but now, seeing Carson Katsaros made Oliver want to laugh.