Driven, page 17
“Oh, hello, dear, don’t you look nice. Those are just beautiful! Of course, come on in.” Hearing only one side, he had no idea who she could have been talking to.
The flowers came in first, a vivid bouquet of roses: yellow, white, pink, and red. They were swathed in greenery and everything was encompassed in crinkly cellophane. Oliver could smell their unmistakable aroma from across the room.
Arms followed the flowers, and Simon popped his head around the door, eyes searching for something, or someone. When his gaze landed on Oliver, it took in the bandage, the sling and probably the harsh circles Oliver had lamented the day before. He stopped to say something to Vera before stepping inside fully and heading straight for Oliver.
“You look awful,” he said, frowning.
“Hello to you too,” Oliver replied, not liking that someone thought he looked bad.
Simon must have realized he said the wrong thing because he stuck the flowers out as a peace offering. “I just mean I heard you got hurt, but I somehow didn’t expect it to be so bad.”
“It’s not that bad,” Oliver said, arms tentatively out to grab the flowers. “For me?” he had to be sure before he took them.
“Oh! Yes, sorry. I’m, uh… I’m not very good at this kind of thing,” Simon admitted, an adorable blush filling his cheeks.
“What kind of thing?” Oliver wanted to know.
“He’s courting you, stupid,” Tude hissed, smacking him on the arm. Oliver gave her a look that showed he knew that, but wanted to hear it from the other boy’s mouth. He looked up at Simon who gave him a sheepish look in return.
“How about you take these, and I’ll go get the groceries for Vera. Then maybe we can talk… in private.”
“Okay,” Oliver said, before taking the flowers and burying his nose in the sweet scent. He watched over the bouquet as Simon walked in and out, hands full of plastic bags. When he was done, he stood by the front door, just waiting. Vera popped her head out of the kitchen and took in the situation.
“Oh, Tude, why don’t you come in here and make sure I’m putting things in the right spot?”
Her sister gave her a look like she was crazy. “You know where things go, and I’m comfortable,” Tude replied, frowning.
Vera sighed and looked to Simon, mouthing an apology. Tude must have caught it because Oliver saw the light go on. The woman let go her own sigh and grabbed for her crutches.
“No, don’t get up,” Oliver said. “I can move. You stay comfortable.” He stood before she had a chance to collect herself. He grabbed a throw blanket and draped it over her lap before rounding the couch toward Vera. “Would you mind putting these in water?”
“Of course, dear,” she said taking the flowers with a smile. “Why don’t you guys sit on the back porch? I’ll bring out some drinks.”
“Thanks, Miss Vera,” Simon said with a smile, grabbing Oliver by his good hand and leading him through the house to the porch. Oliver could hear Vera chastising Tude for her blatant disregard for their privacy.
Simon held the door open, and Oliver walked out onto the screened-in back porch. He settled on the flower-patterned, cushioned wicker sofa at the far end of the porch, the farthest from the back door. Simon followed his lead and looked for Oliver’s approval before he took a seat next to him.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Oliver wasn’t sure where to start or what Simon was thinking. Did he apologize again for his attitude the other day? Did he let Simon speak first? He sighed and dropped his head back, eyes closed. He felt a hand brush back his hair, carefully avoiding the large Band-Aid that had replaced the mummy-like bandages.
“Does it hurt?” Simon asked, his voice quiet.
“A little. The stitches itch.”
“I bet. Do you have to go back to have them taken out?”
Oliver opened his eyes and glanced over at Simon, surprised by the amount of concern on the other boy’s face. “Naah. They dissolve or something.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Simon turned so he was leaning into the corner of the couch, his knee pulled up as he looked at Oliver.
“I’m… not sure how much I can say,” he admitted. “I guess I can just say I got caught up in the middle of a police thing.”
“That’s awful,” Simon said, frowning. “Wrong place at the wrong time?”
“Not exactly,” Oliver said. “It had to do with someone I knew on the streets. I guess you can say he pulled me into it and then the cops used that to their advantage.”
“Why would they pull a kid into something like that?” Simon’s anger was evident.
Oliver smirked. “I’m hardly a kid, and I’ve been involved in illegal activities in the past.”
“So they figured it’d be a walk in the park for you?”
He shook his head. “No, they were stuck and I could help. I agreed to it, and I’m glad I could do good for a change.”
Simon leaned forward and squeezed Oliver’s knee. “You’re a good man, Ollie.”
Oliver shrugged, cheeks flaming. “Not really, I just have a lot to repent for.”
Simon sighed and leaned back again. “I wish you would open up and share with me, but I realized I overreacted the other day. You were right, I don’t understand what you’ve gone through but only because you haven’t shared. I don’t want to be pushy or demanding, and I don’t want to lose you as a friend… as possibly more. Maybe we can take our time and work on it?”
Oliver sighed as well. “I’m not sure I can make promises, but I’m willing to give it a try, so long as you can understand if I push back, it’s not personal. It’s just my own issues I have to work through.” He ran his hands through his hair. “To be blunt about it, I’m fucked-up. I’ve got a lot of issues, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get past them. I know you deserve better than what I can offer, but at the same time….” He leaned in closer to Simon, taking his hand in his own. “I’m selfish, and I don’t want to give you up as a possibility, even though I know how broken I am.”
Simon duplicated Oliver’s actions with their other hands, mindful not to pull too hard and hurt Oliver. “Broken doesn’t mean you can’t be repaired. I get it’s going to take more than a couple pieces of tape, but I think it’s worth working on, if you want to.”
“I do.” Oliver nodded, leaning in even closer.
Simon flashed his beautiful smile. “Then let’s get started.” He leaned in even more, sealing the deal with a kiss.
Chapter Thirty-eight
OLIVER FELT the lust licking up his body as he opened his mouth and deepened the almost-innocent kiss Simon had initiated. The other boy moaned and welcomed the intrusion before sending his own tongue to dance with Oliver’s. Hands intertwined as best they could and bodies got as close as possible without being completely obscene. There was panting and soft moaning as they lost themselves to the passion, forgetting where they were until, of course, Vera came out the back door, tray in hand loaded with sweating glasses of iced tea and madeleine cookies. They abruptly broke apart their embrace when the sweet old lady gasped and started making apologies.
Oliver felt his face flaming while other parts of him screamed for attention in order to settle down. Simon, his face equally red, patted Oliver’s leg as if to say he understood.
“We’re the ones that should be apologizing, Miss Vera. We got a little… caught up in apologies,” Simon explained.
“Oh, dear, you don’t have to apologize. I was young once. I understand all about raging hormones. Maybe the tea will help cool you boys down so you can continue your talk.” She walked forward and placed the tray on the wicker and glass table that sat low in front of them.
Oliver let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Can I dump it over my head?”
She laughed along with him. “Oh, to be young and in love.” She patted his shoulder before leaving them alone with their tea, cookies, and hunger for something other than the latter.
“Well, that wasn’t at all embarrassing. Nope, not in the least,” Simon said, his face still resembling a ripe tomato.
“At least she wasn’t all ‘eww, two boys kissing,’” Oliver said before taking a gigantic gulp of his cold, sweet tea.
“True,” Simon said before picking up his own glass.
Oliver quenched his physical thirst before putting his glass down and turning toward Simon. “Can I ask you a question?”
Simon followed suit, putting his glass down and turning to face his companion. “Sure.”
“If we’re going to do this thing, I mean really give it a try, are you going to come out to your friends? I feel like it would be a hard thing to hide if we ever go out together like we did last time.”
Simon was quiet for a long time, and Oliver got a sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn’t want to be anyone’s dark, dirty secret anymore. He didn’t want to push Simon, but he definitely felt it would be better for him to be upfront with them. They were at a point in life when one had to start weeding out those who weren’t really friends.
“I… I guess I should. It wouldn’t be fair to you for me not to,” Simon finally said, his head hanging.
Oliver put a hand on Simon’s knee. “While I appreciate you are willing to do that for me, I’d rather you decide to do it because you need to be honest with yourself and know who your real friends are and aren’t.”
Simon nodded. “I get it and you’re right. I probably should have done it a long time ago but… I was worried I’d lose them all.”
“If they’re not down with it, then they’re not really friends.”
Simon was quiet again. “There’s a party on Friday. Nothing big. Just the guys and their girls, maybe a few others. Do you want to come? I… might need some support to tell them.”
“Sure, so long as you’re okay with the guy who hasn’t been to a party in years.”
Simon laughed. “It’s not like they’ve changed. Same ole types of people. Food. Liquor. Loud music. You’ll be fine.”
“If you say so,” Oliver replied with a small smile. He was lost in thought, twirling one of the yellow, spongy cookies between his fingers. “That day I came over,” he started, “were you going on a date?” Simon gave him such an odd look he felt he had to jump in and say more. “I mean, it’s totally cool if you were. We’re nothing official or anything, but you were dressed so nice and in such a hurry I just wondered….” He trailed off, feeling stupid for having even asked.
Simon looked puzzled, but then his mouth opened in a silent O of understanding. “No! No date. Well, okay, yes it was a date, but not that kind. After our conversation about the importance of family, I called my sister and asked if she could have guests. Turns out she could have one guest a week for a very short period of time. I had to hurry to get there to talk to her. We had a good heart-to-heart, and I understand her situation a little better. We both promised each other we’d work on the relationship because she needs the support and I don’t want to lose a sister.”
Oliver felt a happy sort of warmth in his chest. “That was good of you,” he said, trying not to get choked up. “I know it couldn’t have been easy for you, but I hope it continues to work out for you guys. Sisters are… special.”
Simon smiled at him before leaning over and resting his head on Oliver’s good shoulder. The two of them sat there and just enjoyed the presence of each other and having someone to lean on.
OLIVER SPENT the rest of the week rotating between sleep, keeping Tude company, and catching a few moments here and there with Simon. He was a little concerned about the upcoming party, worried it wasn’t quite the right place for Simon’s reveal, but the boy was so into the idea that Oliver didn’t have the heart to put a damper on the situation.
Richards and Janette and the girls stopped by one night to check on Oliver, and the twins talked them into staying for dinner. It was a fun, lively evening, and he was surprised how much he enjoyed it. He had forgotten how nice a family-type dinner could be with all the chatter and discussion of their days and lives. They fawned over Oliver, not letting him do much, even though he was feeling much better. It was an odd experience, to be waited on, when he spent so much time during the past few years fighting and fending for himself.
The next night he agonized over what to wear. How did people dress for parties? Jeans and a tee? Cargo pants and a polo? Shorts? Thanks to the sisters, he had all the options but was still clueless. Did he call Simon and let on how out of touch he was by asking what to wear? That wouldn’t be cool, but at the same time he didn’t want to appear over- or underdressed and sticking out like a sore thumb. The last thing he wanted was to draw undue attention to himself. He would much rather blend in and observe rather than be the one on display. He finally settled on khaki shorts and an aqua-colored polo shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. He wore his low-top sneakers with no socks and borrowed some mousse from the ladies to try and tame his curls a bit.
Satisfied he looked presentable, he said good-bye to the twins who both beamed at him like proud parents, before walking over to Simon’s house. He rapped sharply on the door and then fidgeted with his collar, hoping he hadn’t chosen wrong.
The door swung open, and Oliver was surprised to see that it wasn’t Simon who answered his call. The man who so closely resembled his date for the evening was obviously Simon’s father. He was immediately nervous and felt his anxiety start to rise.
“You must be Oliver. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Mr. Green, but you can call me Marty, everyone does.” Marty gave Oliver a welcoming smile. “Come in. I apologize Simon isn’t quite ready yet, but that’s my fault. I sent him on an errand that took longer than I thought it would.”
Oliver entered the home and followed him into the kitchen. He motioned to a chair before pulling one out himself.
“You’re looking well,” Marty commented gesturing to the much smaller bandage on his forehead. Oliver had gotten the okay to ditch the sling, so at least he wasn’t going to look like an invalid.
“I’m feeling better, thank you,” he said politely.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
Oliver shook his head. He was a bit nervous about the car ride and the party and thought it best not to have anything in his stomach should the worst happen. Nothing like meeting new people with puke breath.
“No thank you,” he declined.
Simon’s father smiled at him. He could see the tired sadness Simon had talked about, but the smile was genuine.
“So,” Marty said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, hands clasped. “This is a date, huh?”
Oliver blinked several times, unsure if Simon told him that or if he figured it out himself. “I, uh… is that what Simon said?”
He leaned back, still smiling. “I know my boy, and he’s been chattering about you nonstop lately. He’s upstairs worried about his hair and what he’s wearing. If it wasn’t a date, he’d be wearing grease-covered jeans and a tank top.”
“Oh,” Oliver said, coloring slightly. “Then, uh, yeah, it’s a date.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. I was concerned he was still worried about what we would say if he brought a boy home. Either that or he was afraid it would cause another problem on top of everything we’re going through with his sister. It makes me happy to see you here, Oliver. He needs something good in his life right now, and I think you just may be it.”
Oliver was surprised by the words and unsure how to respond. “I… thank you.” He was saved from having to say anything else by Simon stampeding down the stairs into the kitchen.
“Hey! Sorry. I was running late,” he explained.
Oliver thought it cute that he was out of breath, obviously hurrying to get ready and see him. He stood, unsure how to greet him, especially in front of the father. “No worries. I was just having a nice talk with your dad.”
Simon looked back and forth between the two of them as if trying to figure out what the conversation was about. “That’s cool. Are you ready to go?”
“Sure,” Oliver said before turning to Simon’s dad. “Nice to finally meet you.”
The older version of Simon nodded. “Likewise. You boys have fun. Be good.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Dad. Be back late.”
His dad walked over and patted him on the back before waving to Oliver and leaving the room.
Simon watched him go and as soon as he was out of sight, he rushed forward and gave Oliver a hard, quick kiss.
“Hi,” he said again, looking adorably excited.
“Hi,” Oliver echoed, smiling. “Ready for this?”
Simon nodded, suddenly serious. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I think.”
Oliver linked hands with him and gave a tight squeeze. “Okay, then, let’s go drag you out of that closet and into the starlit night.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
THE PARTY was in full swing when they arrived and dubbing it a small gathering was an out-and-out lie. The house was small, and it had already burst at the seams, spilling people out into the hot night air. They were throbbing and swaying on the front lawn, the bass-heavy music thumping loud enough to wake the dead. The house was outside of the city and had enough land so that the neighbors wouldn’t be annoyed by the noise and call the cops.
Oliver managed to survive the car ride with Simon’s soothing voice distracting him the whole trip, but now that they were parking, the anxiety threatened to choke him. Had he known there were going to be so many people, he probably would have tried to talk Simon out of the whole ordeal. He turned to look at his date and found Simon watching him already.
“Sorry. They told me small….” He looked worried.
Oliver decided he could suck it up and try to deal for Simon’s sake. Thankfully the weather was nice enough that they could stay outside. The air would keep him calmer than the tight throng of people inside.
