《floating | ✓》15| red

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“There is no bad ideas. Just poorly executed awesome ones.”

-Damon Salvatore

It is Monday. When I wake up, I have a terrible headache. Then I remember I have school, and that makes my headache worse. I have a test, so I have to go. I eat my breakfast, and with the sheer force of my remaining willpower, I head towards school.

I bet I look terrible today, but nobody’s gonna notice. So I go to Jason’s locker, where I find the boys.

Turning to Jason, I say, “Hug me.”

Because I really need a hug. Jason obliges. When I lean back, I see Oliver looking at me with an unreadable expression in his face. I don’t know what to call it.

Curiosity? Maybe.

“What?” I ask him.

“Nothing.” Oliver shakes his head.

We all head towards our respective classes. Man, I hate school.

*****

I find myself in the cafeteria later. I don’t know how I spent half the day listening, not listening to the lectures. And that test, I don’t even care about it. The cafeteria is loud, and I have no hunger.

The noise only makes my headache worse. I sit at one of the corner tables, not going to Oliver’s because today I’m not my usual sunny self, and I don’t want anyone to know that. I look at Oliver, who’s sitting at his usual table with his lunch, frowning and probably waiting for Jason to show up.

I breathe in and out, resting my forehead on the table, ignoring my lunch.

“Didn’t know we changed our table.” I look up. Oliver is standing here with his lunch tray in his hand, waiting for me to make room.

I stare at him. Then I move my lunch tray silently. Oliver sits down.

“Where is Jason?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Oliver replies and eats his lunch.

That is exactly why he is here. We didn’t change our table. I wanted to be alone. He didn’t want to be alone. So he is here.

“Where is your book?” I ask.

Oliver knits his eyebrows together. “Why is that even an issue?”

I don’t say anything. Instead, I look away.

“Whatever.”

I frown and look down at my hands.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Oliver asks.

I snap my head towards him, “I am not hungry. And stop acting like you care. ”

Oliver says, “It’s not like you want me to care. ”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, buddy. Who wanted to be your friend? Me. Who is always going after you? Me. Who started acting like your friend? Me,” I say. “Does that mean anything to you? No. What did you say to me? ‘We will never be friends.’”

Oliver says, “All I want to know is why. We have been around each other for so long. Why do you suddenly want to be friends with me?”

“Because you’re a dipshit?” I reply.

Oliver isn’t happy with my answer. I am done with this shit, so I stand up and take my tray.

“Maybe because I wanted a friend. Oh wait, you don’t care, and we will NEVER be friends. I will remember that. ”

I leave.

I’m finally a little bit focused again in Ms. Terrington’s class. She’s describing different kinds of motion. All I want to do is get out of here, dig a hole for myself, and curl into a ball.

I literally hate everyone around me. I want Ms. Terrington to stop giving lectures. I just want to collapse somewhere.

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Now what good will that do? Get up, focus, and listen to what she’s saying.

I mentally groan at myself, but sit up straighter and try to focus again. I see the writing on the board and start to copy. It doesn’t go really well, but at the end of the class, I have enough notes. I haven’t lost much of my focus like I do when I’m having my spiral days.

I’m not floating anymore. Just like that. The spiral days are over. For now.

And that is something.

I take a deep breath and walk to my next class, where I stay more concentrated and pay more attention. Soon enough school is over. It’s time to go home.

I see Oliver when I walk outside my class. He is standing there aimlessly, looking around for something.

I won’t dare to say he is looking for me.

Who is Oliver? No one.

No, that’s not true. Oliver is someone I like to mess with. Someone I can see myself getting attached to, someone who will come and leave. Come and leave, but I will always be there, for him and for me.

What was I even thinking? Wait, I wasn’t thinking. That is another dangerous realization. Whenever I am around Oliver, I don’t think. I am out of control. I say and do things that I am not supposed to say and do. I am out of my mind.

What was I even doing?

I walk forward, jutt my chin up, and walk by him like I never knew him.

It takes so much willpower it drains me of all of my energy. Like Oliver is a vacuum and by walking past him, he excluded all energy that was in me.

But I don’t stop, don’t say hello, don’t nod at him. I take the longest, heaviest three steps of my life. I have left Oliver behind. I am out of school.

I reach home. I heat up some food, watch TV, and do my homework. At night, I greet my parents when they come home with a smile. I talk about anything and everything at dinner. Mom and I talk about Sam. I sent him a text asking how he’s doing. He says he’s great. I say I’m great too, and I don’t have to lie.

When finally I lay down on my bed, I’m so tired, I am going to fall asleep right away.

I blink once at my ceiling. I tell myself, Look at you, Gwen. Look at all of this. Everything is fine. Everything is okay. There is always hope, and you are grateful. Nothing is ending, nothing is wrong.

In the end, I turn up fine. I always do.

*****

The next day, I am in the study hall. My piles of books and papers are in front of me, scattered. I have my earbuds plugged in, taking me away from the world around me.

“I am Titanium,” I hum under my breath.

I do my homework. You obviously need to listen to some inspirational songs when you are drowning under heaps of homework that you keep putting off. I do one subject at a time.

Someone puts a shake in front of me and I look up. Jason is smiling down at me. I take off my ear plugs and say, “Hi. Thanks for this. God bless you. ”

I take a sip of the cold chocolate shake, and it flows through me, lighting me up.

“Oh God, this tastes like heaven,” I look at the name. It’s from Pop’s.

“Who went to Pop’s?” I ask, frowning.

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“Guess who?” Jason smirks and sits down on a nearby chair.

“Oliver?” I ask.

“Yep. And he said to me, ‘go give it to the girl who is drowning upstairs,’” Jason replies. “My question is, are our finals coming anytime soon?”

Why can’t Oliver come here himself?

“No, they’re not. But I have all these assignments and homework due that I haven’t touched,” I reply.

“Aren’t you a little nerd?” Jason leans in, smiling. “I do homework the night before turning in. Sometimes even two minutes before submitting. And other times, I forget that I have any.”

I laugh.

“So, you’ll keep doing that,” Jason shakes his head. “If you have time today, you can go shopping with us. ”

“You wanna go shopping?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Jason gives me a look. “It’s October 27th. Ring any bells?”

“Ooh! Halloween!” I say. “I’m all in! We’re gonna raid the shops and drop the town. I need to think of something creative. ”

“Yeah, anyways, Oliver didn’t wanna come, but I’m making him. Say, at 6, I’ll pick you up,” Jason says while standing up.

“Okay,” I smile.

Well, this is going to be interesting.

*****

“I was thinking something more authentic than dressing up as a Holy Guacamole,” I say, eyeing the costumes.

“I think I can do better than being smarty pants.” Jason holds up a pair of pants with Smarty’s attached to it. I laugh.

Oliver is following us with a frown on his face.

“Maybe you should have left him alone,” I whisper at Jason.

“Yeah, so he can rot in his room. No,” Jason says. “It’s Halloween. You gotta celebrate.”

“Well, I have my pumpkin spice latte.” I drain my cup. “At least that feels Fall-ish.”

Then I see it, a redder-than-red dress. It is blood red.

“Do you think I can wear that and call myself, umm, I don’t know...blood?” I say, pointing to the dress.

“It’s not a costume,” Jason protests.

“But it’s pretty.” I pull it out. The dress was kind of hidden behind all these weird costumes. “I think I will try it out.”

“You know, you can wear that to Prom,” Jason says, eyeing the dress. “Or maybe the winter formal.”

“Winter Formal?” Oliver, who seems to remember he can talk, says.

“Yeah,” Jason turns. “We are actually planning a winter formal this year.”Jason fills us in as he is on the student council.

“Wasn’t prom enough?” Oliver says scowling.

“However,” I interrupt, “I am going to try this out. If the dress looks good on me, maybe I will even get it.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Jason says, as he checks out more stuff.

Oliver stays standing, frowning and maybe praying he can get out of this as soon as possible.

I haven’t tried to talk to Oliver. I am not going to. I don’t know what his problem with me is. I am not going to know if he doesn’t tell me. So, it is up to him to take the next step and tell me about it, maybe even apologize.

I don’t know if he’s really going to.

Also, the problem is my insides are absolutely itching to talk to Oliver, to make fun of him, to mess with him, or maybe just talk. It’s so hard to keep my mouth shut and not to do stupid things when he is around. I guess that is the effect he has on me.

I walk inside the dressing room. The dress is really pretty. It’s red satin which flows beautifully from the waist. The upper body is filled with small red beads which go up to the neck line. I think they made it inspired by a movie dress. It is the costume shop after all.

This dress really does belong in Hollywood.

I put it on after a bit of shuffling and having trouble zipping it up. When I’m done, I look in the mirror. I would have been absolutely happy to tell you that the dress turned me into some sort of beauty queen, but I looked kind of out of place with my weird mob of hair on my head sticking out like a mountain, my makeupless bare face. I sigh.

I let my hair fall down and smooth it with my fingers. I adjust the dress a bit and look at the mirror again.

I know what I look like. I look like a sad, lost girl in a nice dress, a girl you would find in a club washroom crying and retouching their makeup.

Man, I am so pessimistic.

I am not ready to walk out in it yet. The boys are outside and I am feeling kind of shy, but I take a deep breath and I walk out anyway.

“This didn’t really work,” I say.

Jason and Oliver are having a conversation, and they turn to look at me.

I have the joy of seeing another expression on Oliver’s face. I can name this one: surprise, as his mouth is kind of wide, his eyebrows are a millimeter higher than usual.

“Girl,” Jason says and walks up to me, “You are absolutely buying this.”

“I don’t know,” I mumble.

“You look smoking hot! No guy will ever look away from you if you wear that!”

“How weird that I only want one of them to look,” I say, loud enough for anyone standing around to hear.

Didn’t I say I lose my mind around Oliver? I guess that happened again.

“I guess, Oliver is stumped,” Jason whispers and winks. I slap his arm.

Jason’s phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket. “I gotta take this call,” he says before vanishing.

I sneak a look at Oliver to see he has returned to his blank expression and is now gazing at me weirdly. I stare right back.

I turn away. I check other dresses and act like I don’t care. But I do.

I wish I could wrap my fingers around Oliver’s throat and just squeeze. Maybe that would make me feel better.

I blink, and I sense Oliver standing by my side.

“You don’t get me.”

I raise my eyebrow. “Aren’t you a mystery man?”

Oliver has this softness in his face, and I am staring way too long. “You didn’t get me when I said we’d never be friends.”

I take a breath. “Yes, that could mean so many things. How am I supposed to know what you mean?”

Oliver hits me with a look, like he is trying to tell me something, but I am shallow, and I need clarification.

“Say what you meant by that,” I tell him.

Oliver eyes me up and down and says, “Red suits you.”

I look at him with surprise. “Does it?”

“Well, I bet any color would,” Oliver says so lowly, if I wasn’t standing so close, I wouldn't hear it.

I gulp. “Well, umm.”

Oliver starts, “Gwen, I wanted to tell you that I-”

Then we hear Jason, “Okay so as I was saying-”

Oliver and I jump apart like we have been caught committing some crime.

“Well,well, you guys have managed not to kill each other yet,” Jason says, eyeing us.

“That’s not going to happen anytime soon,” Oliver answers immediately. I am still stupefied.

Oliver looks at me, then walks away from me without an answer.

I let out the breath I have been holding too long. I think I am going to buy this dress, because somebody said red suits me.

*****

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