The Best Years: Year Two

Chapter F I F T Y

** DUE TO SELF-PUBLISHING THE BEST YEARS (The Amherst Sinners Series): WATTPAD WILL ACT AS A PREVIEW. FIRST TWO CHAPTERS. **

- Oliver's POV -

Some people had a gift for being at the wrong place at exactly the wrong time.

Some people had a subconscious that spat on privacy and desired the feeling of failure, to give them comfort in knowing who they really are. A walking, breathing mess.

When we went upstairs I had every intention of giving her what she wanted, pleasure, but as soon as we were alone I realized it was impossible to get into that head space.

She swayed ever so slightly like a child waiting for some big reveal as I leaned back onto my elbows watching her. My eyes stalked her every movement. I stayed quiet outside of my body. The argument with myself in my mind was far more important. If I completed the argument against myself successfully I could actually start a conversation with Layla about our pending break. Staying quiet was easier than explaining the argument out loud.

She took my silence wrong. She set her drink down before her hands pressed against my own thighs as she leaned down pressing her lips against mine.

I wanted to kiss her back more but I couldn't let myself feel any distractions right now. Every time I looked in her eyes I only saw an apocalyptic end starting with a two month break. When people left they never come back. I knew that better than anyone. She pulled away from me lowering down between my legs and I let my head fall back creating a sharp tension between my shoulder blades. I felt her hands tug on my belt letting them gape open after she gently pulled my zipper down. There was no stopping her without having to fess up to the argument in my head. My pants gapped open enough for the smallest move to the waist band on my underwear to expose me completely.

It was a different feeling entirely when you're exposed flaccid rather than hard. I would feel insecure but I was actively not letting myself feel anything still.

I wanted to. I really did. I built up her tolerance all day knowing at this party I was going to relive all the times we sex in this bed. It was going to be a farewell memory to hold us over for two months.

I was thankful she wasn't confident or experienced enough to be offended by my lack of arousal now level with her mouth. She tried anyways. I didn't have the motivation to stop her. I convinced myself her warm, wet mouth would inspire my dick to grow.

If there was a knock on the door I didn't hear it. The door opened and I felt obligated to reach for a pillow throwing that way without knowing the who or why. I felt obligated to act angry, shouting at him for interrupting or to get out.

I was thankful he interrupted us.

Caden put the small bag on display notifying me of her presence. I knew actually who he meant even when he didn't say her name out loud.

I had never been more motivated to become decent as I made my way to his show and tell.

I touched the bag and it was like Pandora's box, a mentally block lifting and letting loose all the drug infused memories. The smooth plastic against my fingers. The powder wasn't actually white. That was a misconception, it was tinted by the diluted toxics added to cut down the purity. It was tinted a bisque color in reality. Even the familiar crisp pop of a ziplock breaking apart filled my ears without the bag even being opened.

Suddenly the mental argument in my head went mute. I even forgot Layla who was embarrassed before I strutted over to Caden to see the evidence up close. I almost forgot to tell her I would be back. Caden's confused and concerned eyes made me stop to remember before I left her safely in my room.