Oliver Ausman Lives Again

eleven

I hate myself for hating the way her expression turns soft. It's the same look I've gotten from everyone-- the doctors, Peter, Charlie, the three random therapists who came to see me, and even our housemaid. The only one who hasn't given me the look is Mom, and somehow I hate her even more for not doing it. 

Kat's look disappears fast, though, so quick it almost never even existed to begin with. But if she's trying to hide that she saw, she makes the mistake of meeting my eyes. There's a silent stare of recognition, where we both decide not to say anything, and somehow understand that. When I reach for the handle of the driver's side door, Kat turns, heading around to the passenger's side.

I'm not sure how to handle the silence once we're both in the car. Charlie's preoccupied with his chips and something on his phone, so he doesn't seem to notice the lack of conversation. Either that, or he's decided at the worst possible moment to butt out of trying to help me talk to Kat.

There's a part of me that wants to explain, but there's no part of me that has any idea how. Maybe she doesn't even want to know. I'm just some random guy-- we'll be out of each other's lives in a matter of hours. 

Is that what she'll remember me as now? Not just the guy who drove her to New York with his brother, but the guy with the suicide scars? It's not the impression I want to leave, and suddenly I'm determined to spend the rest of the ride attempting to bury that memory with good conversation. 

I start the car and drive out of the lot, knowing my mission would be a lot easier if I was any good at conversation. "So, is Kat short for something?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

"Which would be...?" I shoot her a glance as I get back on the highway. "Katrina? Kathleen?"

"Kathryn," she answers, not sounding too happy about it.

"I take it you've always gone by Kat?"

She shakes her head. "Everyone back home calls me Rynn. I don't get to introduce myself to new people that often-- small town, you know? I figured I'd switch things up. Rynn's cool, but... I don't know. Right now I'd rather be Kat."

"Well I guess in New York you can call yourself whatever you want. Big city, and only one person will know your real name. What does he call you, anyway?"

"Hmm?"

"Does your brother call you Rynn, too?"

"Oh!" Her eyebrows shoot up and she gives herself a playful smack on the forehead. "Right, yeah. Yeah, he calls me Rynn."

"Does he know you're coming?" Charlie asks, stretching his seat belt as he leans forward between the two front seats.

"Um, well... not exactly. No. I haven't told him yet, but I don't think he'll mind."

I can't stop myself from wondering what had Kat so eager to leave that she was willing to be so impulsive. Her decision seems just as poorly thought out as mine does, which is strangely comforting even if it does make me curious why.

"Did you tell everyone you were leaving?" Charlie continues. "Your parents and your friends? Your boyfriend?"

I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling myself blush at Charlie's brashness. I risk a glance over at Kat. 

Her eyebrows are raised, mouth slightly ajar. She laughs a bit, shaking her head. "I haven't told anybody."

I find myself wishing she'd be a little more specific, pointlessly hoping she's single. Wouldn't it be better if she wasn't? It would help kill this false hope I have that she could ever be interested in me. Even if miracles could happen and she was interested, I have to keep reminding myself that soon we'll look at each other for the last time, say goodbye, and that will be it.

God, I do not want that to be it. But with every passing minute New York is getting closer and closer, and so is the inevitable moment when we part ways. We had to stop for food, we had to go in that IHOP, I just had to be cursed with the knowledge that a girl like this exists. 

I need to chill out, majorly. Look at me-- it's been a few hours and I've gone completely ga-ga over a girl I barely know. I blame Mom and the fact that she insists on making me go to an all-boys school so that the only contact I have with the opposite sex is with the stuck up daughters of her friends. 

Charlie hums, thinking it over. "You don't think they'll be worried?" 

"I'll tell my parents soon enough." She shrugs, letting out a small laugh. "Friends... been a while since I had any of those, and same goes for a boyfriend. So no, I don't think anyone'll be too worried."

"Sounds like Oliver." Charlie grins at me in the rearview. "He doesn't have friends or a girlfriend, but he says he likes being alone better."

I can feel my face heating up. "Yeah, and if you can't convince Mom to let you go to public school before you hit the sixth grade, you'll be saying the same thing soon enough."

"What's so bad about private school?" Kat questions.

"It's not private school I have an issue with, it's Northview. The place is... I don't know, it's like somehow they got America's most pretentious males to all enroll at the same school."

"Grass is always greener." Kat shrugs. "I think once you hit middle school, no matter where you go, it's kind of destined to suck. Sorry," she apologizes to Charlie, obviously feeling guilty for her bluntness. "I mean, maybe not."

"Don't worry." He raises a shoulder, unbothered. "Oliver's already told me."

The words tug at my stomach. I guess I have been drilling it through his head pretty hard that Northview is the worst place on Earth. I probably haven't made the idea of leaving elementary school very exciting for him. 

The last thing I want is for things to not work out for Charlie because I put it in his head that they shouldn't. I should be trying to preserve his optimism, not kill it before it even has a chance to pay off. Thanks to what I've told him and what I tried to do to myself, I can only imagine it's hard for him to keep such a positive outlook on things all the time.  

"Yeah, well, what do I know? Don't listen to me," I backtrack and crack a smile at him in the mirror, hoping it seems real enough. It's scary to think of Charlie turning out like me, and if there's anything I can do to reverse the damage I'm sure I've caused, I'm more than willing to try. "You should know better than that by now."