Paralysis

Chapter Eight

  The first day of what would be a long month of detention was over for Olive and Samantha. There were just twenty-nine days left of the longest hour they would most likely ever have to endure. With Morgan being in the same vicinity as the two young women, the experience was bound to be a tiresome one. Olive rushed into the women's restroom to change into her work clothes. Olive went into an empty stall to switch her attire. Originally, she presumed her appearance in the bathroom would be the only one. That was until she felt a shift in the air, indicating the presence of another person. Olive was not sheepish when it came to her place of work—she was proud of herself. Many people her age were far more fortunate than she was; making it painfully obvious almost on the daily. The clear mockery she received as a sixteen year old youth over the memories of what occurred all those years ago was inhumane of her peers.
  Olive had been far too jaded to deal with anyone saying something insensitive just to anger her. The comments started out with meaning, but eventually, she could tell that all their words were only spoken in protest of Olive's existence. They were only saying things to say them, without needing justification or comprehension. Olive finished dressing herself, while overhearing the sound of a faucet running. After shoving her previous outfit into her backpack, Olive grabbed hold of it and walked out of the stall. She was surprised to see that it was Samantha in the restroom with her.
Olive didn't cease her motions, but continued to walk up to the lengthy mirror and check her uniform. Olive could feel eyes on her. She turned to look out of curiosity, sharing a simple glance with Samantha. The way her eyes stared at Olive up and down was unsettling. Olive's energy shifted after understanding what Samantha was doing. She was utterly worn out over the judgmental gazes and being treated as if she were a lesser individual than anyone else. Olive began to wash her hands, looking down into the sink with a plain expression.
  "You actually look good in that." Olive heard Samantha comment as she splashed the water off of her hands into the sink's porcelain bowl. Olive looked over at her, visibly startled at the unexpected compliment. Olive revealed a fake grin, assuming Samantha's comment was merely a spell of sassy sarcasm.
  "I'm not kidding, you clearly work really hard. I meant what I said in detention too. I get this is just your way of assuming that everyone is kidding with you and maybe you're right. But I'm being genuine and I plan on continuing it as well." Samantha explained, causing Olive to reveal a look of disbelief. It almost made her feel like crying when hearing someone other than Georgia or Olive's mother speak to her with true respect.
  "Thank you. It's pretty obvious to tell I have trust issues, isn't it?" Olive cracked a joke. Samantha hummed in agreement, facing Olive.
  "Very, but there's nothing wrong with that, I think. Everyone has there own form of trust issues. I also know that you've been through a lot. What you were put through isn't something I'd wish on anyone. All those people mocking you for your past was childish and unforgivable." Samantha began to say, mulling over her thoughts to get them out properly. Olive shifted in body and facial expression. The day had arrived where she heard the beginning of an authentic apology from a fellow classmate.
  "I mean myself as well. I wouldn't blame you if you never trusted me or forgave me. I treated you horribly in the past and even up until recently. I tend to be a really angry and compulsive person, so I know it's hard to believe me, but I've done a lot of thinking after our last encounter." Samantha sincerely apologized. Tears were welling up in Olive's eyes. She covered her mouth with her fist, looking away from Samantha. Olive's throat tensed up aggressively as she desperately attempted to stop herself from creating more emotional brine in her sockets. To no avail, the silent juncture only produced more motivation to her glum attitude. The rise and fall of her pounding chest turned into an onerous fight to remain unmoved by Samantha's words.
  "You've suffered a lot and it wasn't fair that I tagged along with the torment. I can't even define why I had for so long. We were all immature in middle school but now we're becoming adults. You don't deserve this bullshit and I really am sorry for being part of the bullying that you've dealt with." Samantha proclaimed pulling a tissue out of a plastic holder from her backpack before handing it to Olive. Olive nodded, retrieving the gesture without hesitation.
  "I have a pretty bad temper myself. I'll be honest, I don't think we could ever be real friends but I won't purposely avoid you or try to stop it from happening if we actually do get close. We all have our own problems and I'll bet you have quite a load of crap to haul around on your shoulders too. I'm not all that bitter about it so don't let it get to your head." Olive sniffled as she wiped her face of the tears that successfully escaped.
  "It actually sounds nice if we could go from enemies to friends. That would be an interesting story to tell people how we beat the shit out of each other before we ultimately made a truce. I also wouldn't worry too much about Morgan. He's just a lousy chicken shit that doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut." Samantha mentioned, scoffing to herself over the reminder of the blonde male.
  "Oh, believe me, I know all too well. I can't wait for the day that someone gives him what he deserves." Olive laughed, thinking about how interesting it would be to watch Morgan go through his warranted karma.
  "That'll be the day. If there's any one of my so called friends, or anyone such as Morgan that messes with you, don't ever hesitate to let me know. I may not be able to match up to your fighting style but I still have a good set of hands and an even better mouth on me too. We'd make a good team, I think." Samantha expressed with a cocky grin. Olive laughed at Samantha's jest, recollecting how she spoke to Morgan in detention.
  "Give me your phone so I can add all my info just in case you ever need to get a hold of me." Samantha insisted, making Olive chuckle a bit. Olive handed Samantha her phone like requested. Samantha quickly went into Olive's contacts and jotted down her cellular details.
  "Thank you." Olive mentioned as Samantha returned the phone to her.
  "Don't mention it, and remember what I said." Samantha reiterated, readying herself to leave and head home. Olive nodded, shoving her phone back in the front pocket of her work uniform.
  "I look forward to spending the next three and a half weeks in detention with you." Samantha teased at Olive while she held the bathroom door open. Olive nodded with a minuscule smile. Samantha departed ahead of Olive. Curious of the newly gained contact, Olive pulled out her phone once more to look over the data. The information read out, Samantha Lucas, her phone number and an added note at the bottom that made Olive titter into unexpected elation.
  "Sparring partner, seriously?" Olive said to herself, reading off the nickname Samantha had left for Olive. She covered her mouth to stop the immense laughter that wanted to escape. Olive slowly shook her head with hilarity, adjusting her backpack to head out of the women's restroom. Walking through the hallway, Olive saw Morgan coming toward her from a short distance. Olive was too used to how cliché Morgan was, so she prepared herself. He knocked directly into her, bicep to bicep, even forcing his shoulder against her. She was jolted back a few steps, however. Given her short stature, Morgan always used their height difference to his own advantage. Olive bit down on her bottom lip with a low snicker, already exasperated with Morgan. Olive placed her hands in her pockets.
  "Watch where you're going." Morgan growled. Olive remained silent, amused at the lengths Morgan would go to fulfill his childish inadequacies.
  "You bumped into me, Einstein." Olive responded, turning to face the towering male. Though she was smirking, she was still aggravated by being purposely shoved. Morgan squinted his eyes, appalled at the challenging expression that Olive harbored.
  "What?" Morgan asked in a threatening tone. Olive sneered, her nose flared and her brows pointed downward. Olive refused to show weakness.
  "You heard me just fine." Olive replied in a stern voice, remaining unbothered by his attempt to scare her. She tilted her head slightly to the side, staring up at Morgan while they both only stood a few inches away from one another.
  "Too scared to say it again now that I'm in your face?" Morgan asked, testing Olive's tolerance of him.
  "You of all people know I have no issue with saying what I want to a person's face. I'm not a big fan of repeating myself." Olive's voice was flustered—dauntingly coarse. Inching forward, her chest was nearly pressed up against Morgan. Her arms were relaxed at each side. Her hands twitched every now and again as if they readied themselves to be balled up into fists. Morgan's only response was to release a breathy, mocking laugh prior to walking away. Olive was taken aback by his sudden reluctance to proceed. Olive stood in the hallway for a moment, collecting her thoughts. The chatter of teachers from across the corridor alerted her, prompting a hurried withdrawal from the area.
  She sighed, scoffing at the encounter with Morgan. Once it was silent, Olive sauntered her way toward the main entrance of the school. Olive stopped just outside the front doors to fish a wallet out of her pocket. Olive set her backpack down before going through the pouch of cash. A chuckle emerged from her throat, recalling how easy it was to retrieve Morgan's wallet. His lack of self control to harass her physically had always been diverting. Olive's lips parted, smiling as she nearly dissolved with laughter.
  "What a moron." Olive muttered to herself, looking through the wallet.
  "Damn, seventy bucks?" Olive commented, pulling the bills out and shoving them in her bra. With the wallet still in hand, Olive bent down to retrieve her backpack.
  "How's your day going?" Olive was startled by a sonorous voice coming from behind her. She instinctively stuck the wallet in her left front pocket as she hitched her backpack over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes once the panicking subsided.
  "I'm not in the mood for you. My day is shitty enough already, I don't need you to keep adding to it." Olive warned, turning around. She knew it was Damian before even having to look at him, but a part of her wished for it to be anyone else.
  "Under our agreement, it's kind of my job to do that." Damian teased, grinning pridefully.
  "I'm not under a contract, prick. This is blackmail remember?" Olive hissed, her pitch quite villainous.
"That's the fun part about it." Damian went on, his snarky attitude always present. Olive sighed, closing her eyes and wishing her vexing hip attachment would disappear. Olive clenched her jaw.
  "By the way, I failed to ask you this before, but how do you actually plan on proving that I'm a pickpocket? You claim that you'll go to the police or to the school board and claim that's what's happening, but it's also not that hard for me to lie. It's your word against mine." Olive glared, almost skipping down the main steps as a means of scornful jest. Damian didn't respond at first, leading her to assume she struck a nerve. Olive headed over to the bike racks and unlocked her cycle from it. She shifted to face Damian while she positioned the bike at her side. Her expression became solemn.
  "Why would anyone say that about me? That is such a horrible thing to do to. My mom and I barely have enough money to support ourselves, why would I take from others and make their financial lives difficult?" Olive reenacted what she could say if Damian ever took his blackmail story to the police or to the school. She chuckled, crossing her arms defensively. The time for fearing Damian's threats were over.
  "That's pretty good, but your acting skills won't really help you when I show them proof." Damian pulled out his phone to show Olive a video. Olive hesitated, gazing at the evidence. She swallowed excess saliva, nervous to comply with watching the video.
  "Press play." Damian insisted. Olive clicked the screen, soon hearing the very conversation where Damian revealed to her that he knew she was a pickpocket. The imagery danced across the glossiness of her jade painted eyes. The video was taken just outside the school when Olive planned to give Damian his money back. The recording seemed to be taken while his phone was in his back pocket. Olive glowered up at Damian, shoving the phone against his chest before turning to walk away with her bike. She relayed to herself how clever Damian was for filming her admitting to everything. Damnit! Olive cognitively seethed. Even still, she couldn't halt herself from protesting further.
"And what would the principal or the cops say when they find out that you're blackmailing me, huh? It's not much of a smart plan you got here." Olive expressed, feeling as though she would win the battle between them. Damian's chest jolted with a simple laugh; his eyes half lidded. It appeared he was waiting for that exact rebuttal.
"Why would they believe you after I show them this? You're getting into fights at school, most of the students hate you. The video cuts out the part where I make our agreement. At the end of it all, I could even claim that you're blackmailing me to stay quiet. That you threatened me." Damian suggested, his last few words had become hoarse. Olive was truly dealing with a menacing individual.
"You're delusional." Olive seethed, incapable of saying anything else. Olive pressed on, bike to her side. Expectations were of course coherent in the matter as Damian caught up.
  "Oh, don't be so upset, you were the one that asked what proof I had. You can't really blackmail someone without proof, right?" Damian explained, acting as an insect buzzing around Olive's ears. She exhaled. The annoyance was overwhelming, nearly swallowing her whole. Yet, she found an ounce of sanity in the moment. Olive wouldn't bend the way Damian wanted her to.
  "That may be true, but it would've been much more amusing to find out that you didn't have evidence. I would've had such a laugh over it. As I thought, you're smarter than I gave you credit for." Olive shrugged, turning her head to look back at Damian. He gazed upon Olive's nonchalant expression, curious at her sudden mood change.
Olive convinced herself that while she hated going along with what Damian demanded, she wasn't going to lose her core goals in the process. She tried her best to remain calm. Olive looked back and noticed that Damian was still walking directly behind her.
"Are you just going to follow me all the way to work?" Olive questioned, realizing they were both walking in shared silence.
"I plan on waiting until you're off work too." Damian insisted, making Olive guffaw in disbelief.
"I get off in four hours." Olive clarified her schedule for the evening, squinting her eyes at Damian.
"My patience scale is fairly large. Especially when something amusing comes out of waiting." Damian mentioned, closing his eyes while smiling softly. His shoulders perked up as his hands rested in his pockets.
"What exactly would be amusing in watching me wait tables all evening?" Olive questioned, confused as to how Damian could've come to such a conclusion.
"The idea of pissing you off every chance I get just by looking at you while you work is what's amusing. Since you work in customer service, you can't just make a scene in front of everyone, can you?" Damian grinned at Olive again. She hummed, nodding at his boring antics.
"Well, it's hard to cause a scene in front of customers when it's a rarity to have more than five in an entire shift. Besides, it doesn't really matter to you if I get customers or not, right? Considering I'm just a pickpocket that takes people's money like some bitch with no morals. It wouldn't matter either way according to you." Olive managed to say without getting angry. She knew exactly how Damian viewed her but she came to accept it. At the end of the day, she knew he would never get to know her the way Georgia has known her.
"I never said that." Damian defended, sounding a little hurt at what Olive had to say.
"I know exactly what you think of me and you don't need to hide it. You're blackmailing me, there's no room to behave as if this is some other technique in order to exchange your feelings for me." Damian lightly furrowed his eyebrows at Olive's cold statement. She tittered once she was finished speaking. Damian never responded, but silently continued to follow Olive.