"Did you leave yet?!" Max's voice cracks through the speaker of my phone. "Hurry up and leave! My mom dropped me off early at Lemar's so she could hit the casino. I'm bored! Fel and Leon aren't here yet! Hurry up!"

"Max, I'm just heading out now!" I exclaim as I apply one more layer of blush pink lip stain, my hand shaking in the process. Bless you, lip liner. "I know I'm running fifteen minutes late but oh my God, you would not believe the productive day I've had!"

"Yeah? Whatcha do?" Max asks, distant yelling and house music in the background. Guess the party already started.

"Well, this morning I went for a long run, then I talked to Oliver for a little bit and gave him-" I pause. Yikes. Can't mention the key to Max, she'd rage. Also, probably shouldn't mention that he was shirtless, Maxie will get jeal-ous. "A muffin and then I finished one paper, did a butt-ton of research for another, watched a documentary on the Cold War, and I learned some Russian! Zdravstvuyte, menya zovut Kenny!"

"Russian?" Max asks warily as I check out my reflection in the mirror. I don't normally wear dresses with this much cleavage but today I'm feeling adventurous.

"Yes, Russian! I had some time and I thought I'd dabble in a little Slavic tongue," I say, grabbing my purse off of my desk. "Maybe I can insult Larisa soon. She'll never see it coming!"

"Kenny?" Max asks with a deep sigh.

"What?"

"How many did you take today?"

I roll my eyes. "None," I lie. What is she? My mom? Oh that's right, she can't be my mom because Max actually seems to care about me. "I just had a lot of coffee and I'm in a good mood."

I am in a good mood. I'm manifesting that shit. Positive vibes only tonight. After Oliver's confidence comment, I got a little bummed out but decided to put that unwelcome feeling in a tiny box that's tucked in the far corner of my mind. Lock that shit up. I am confident! I am positive. And tonight, I'm going to have fun. I deserve fun.

"Uh-huh," Max hums. "I'm not giving you any more, Ken."

"You always say that," I note as I take her off speakerphone and head out the door towards the parking lot.

"Well, this time I actually can't," Max says, almost apologetically. "My mom decided to take me off of it after she watched a documentary on Big Pharma, so I'm serious, Ken. That's all you have."

"Yeah, whatever, Max," I sigh, galloping down the stairs. "Like I said, it's no big deal."

"Alrighty then," Max sings. "Oh! Leon is here! Okay, I'll see you in half an hour! Can't wait to finally meet your boyfriend."

I groan. "Oh yeah, me too."

Max says goodbye to me and I hang up, exiting the school. My eyes dart towards the black town car parked in the drop off zone, Oliver nowhere to be seen. I texted him to be ready! As I approach the vehicle, the driver's side window rolls down revealing my favorite person in the world.

"Eddie!" I shriek, unable to contain my excitement. "Oh my God! What are you doing here? I thought you were in D.C. with my dad!"

Eddie gets out of the car, a giant grin on his friendly and comforting face. "Hiya, sweetpea," he says as I run into his arms, nearly knocking the wind out of him. "Miss me?"

I look up at him with bright eyes, overwhelmed by a sense of safety, comfort. "Yes! I thought Bowen was going to drive me today. Why are you here?"

Eddie adjusts his black tie, a soft smile on his face, his brown eyes crinkling. "I had some family business to take care of in New York but I saw that you requested a ride tonight and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see you, now could I?"

I grin. "Cause you missed me too?"

"Every day, Kenny," he smiles, opening the back door for me. "Oh, by the way-" he pauses, raising a bushy brow. "Who's the boy?" My eyes dart inside the car. 

Oh shit.

"You're late," Oliver says, giving me a slow once-over, hooking his ankle over his thigh, the laces of his black Doc Martens hanging off the sides.

He just got in?! Didn't even wait for me?! And what is he wearing? He's like the grim reaper, dressed in all in black. Not that I'm any better. God, we look like we're going to a fucking funeral.

"Sorry," I mumble, pressing my lips into a thin line as I gingerly slide into the car, Eddie tossing me an inquisitive look as he closes the door. I hope they didn't talk much. Eddie is chatty.

"You look different," Oliver observes, scanning my outfit, his lips twist up inquisitively.

"Thanks?" Was that a good different or a bad different? I don't think I want to know. Oliver continues to eye me in silence. Ok, creep. I clear my throat. Moving on now. "So uh- how'd you know this was the right car?" I whisper, buckling my seat belt as Eddie hops into the driver's seat.

"I asked," Oliver explains lazily, adjusting the cuff of his leather jacket. "Eddie was just telling me all about you."

"He was?" I ask, meeting Eddie's gaze in the rearview mirror. "And what did he say?"

"That you're my favorite client," Eddie sings, pulling out of the school. "And the smartest girl I've ever met in my whole life, and that's including Zara."

"Zara's Eddie's daughter," I explain to Oliver who looks completely lost. I turn my attention back to the man who basically raised me. "Don't worry, Ed, I won't tell her you said that."

"Our little secret," Eddie laughs as he turns onto the main road. "So Kenny, how do you know this young man?" He pauses. "You do know him, right? I didn't just let a stranger into the car?"

I let out a nervous chuckle, glancing towards Oliver who's crossing his arms in anticipation of my answer. "Uh- he's a friend. A new friend. Really new."

"A new friend?" Eddie hums. "Interesting. And does your father know about your...new friend."

"Nope," I peep, fiddling with the hem of my dress. "And I'd like to keep it that way, please?"

"You want me to lie to my employer?" Eddie asks, a hint of humor in his voice. "I don't know, Kenny, you know how your father gets." He pauses, catching the frown on my face. "Has he called you recently?"

"No," I say in a lowly voice. "I haven't talked to him since he left to go back to D.C. in August."

"I'm sure he's just busy, sweetpea," Eddie reassures me like he always does. "He probably doesn't get a lot of free time."

"Clearly he's not busy enough to call Tracy," I mumble, gazing out the window, trees whipping past my eyes. "But I guess he's got to keep his new wife happy, right?"

"Kenny-" Eddie begins to say but he's cut off by Oliver.

"Your father works in D.C.?" he asks, peering up from his iPhone. "What does he do?"

I was hoping to avoid the topic of my father, the national hero.

"He's a military defense advisor for the White House," I explain.

"He's what?" Oliver says, his jaw dropping. "The White House? As in he works for the President of the United States of America?"

"Mhmm." I hum, avoiding his startled gaze. "He was a four star general in the army before he got this position."

"The army?" Oliver asks, a hint of fear in his eyes. Oh my God, is he scared? So precious.

"Yup," I state, attempting to keep a straight face. "He's an expert in tactical warfare."

"Oi, come here," Oliver whispers, waving me over, his eyes chalked full of disbelief. I lean in, suppressing a laugh.

"What?"

"Where you ever planning on telling me that your father possesses the skills to murder me in my sleep and make it look like an accident?"

Oh, he's flipping.

"He's not like a CIA agent, he's just a military man. He's harmless. He-" I pause, pretending to think. "Okay, he's not harmless, he's actually pretty scary but you're fine, really. He's all the way in D.C. and we're here, in Connecticut, so you're fine. Totally fine."

"I am not going to live past my eighteenth birthday, am I?" Oliver asks, shaking his head, his gaze distant. "I knew you would be the death of me Kennedy Carmichael."

"So dramatic," I note, rolling my eyes. "He's not going to kill you." I pause. "At least not without torturing you first."

"Not funny," he says, deadpan.

"Oh relax," I say, waving him off. "He's not going to do anything to you. He doesn't even know you exist." I poke Eddie's shoulder through the headrest. "And you're not going to tell him, right?"

"My lips are sealed Miss Kenny," Eddie laughs. "What happens in the Lincoln, stays in the Lincoln."

"Thank you," I smile, turning my attention back to my antsy fake boyfriend. "Okay. Your turn."

"My turn for what?" he asks.

"What do your parents do?"

"I'd rather not," Oliver sighs. "Plus, we only covered half your parents. How about your mum? She work for the President as well?"

"Um...no-" My face falls, a pang of pain gnawing at my stomach. "She's in California... I think. I'm not really sure."

"You're not sure?" he asks, his tone gentle, careful, like he's worried I'll start crying.

"Yeah, my uh- my parents got divorced five years ago when I was twelve. My mom, she um...left. She couldn't-" I suck in a deep steadying breath. "She couldn't handle being a mom anymore, I guess. At least that's what my dad said. I'm not really sure, I haven't talked to her since, you know."

I close my eyes, mentally adding this topic into the no-no box. She's gone, there's no point in dwelling. If she doesn't want to talk to me, why would I want to talk to her? She's nobody anymore. Just a memory. A bad memory. At least that's what I tell myself even though when I think about her, all I remember is love. But love hurts. It hurts.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Oliver says quietly. "I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, it's okay," I say, digging my nails into my palms. A memory. Can't get mad at a memory. "Really, it's fine."

Oliver studies me intently, his eyes flicker across my face for several seconds before he reveals, "My father's a hedge fund manager for several Fortune 500 companies and my mum doesn't work."

"Oh-" I nod, taken aback that he actually told me. I was expecting him to brush it off, change the subject, tell me I'm being nosy. "That's cool. What um..what companies?"

"I dunno," Oliver says with a listless shrug. "We don't really talk much."

I let out a soft sardonic chuckle. "Yeah, well, you're not alone there."

Oliver reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a silver flask. "Cheers to shitty parents then," he says, unscrewing the lid and taking a swig before passing it to me. "Want some?"

I purse my lips, shifting my gaze to the rearview mirror to make sure Eddie's not looking. Not that he'd mind. He's picked me and Max up from parties before. As long as we're safe, he's okay with it. 

"Just a little," I whisper, taking it from his hand. Once the liquor hits my tongue, I wince. "Oof, what is that?"

"Jameson," Oliver explains, quickly shoving it back into his jacket. "Irish whiskey. Not a fan, I take it?"

"It's not bad," I say, blowing air out of my mouth, hoping to get the lingering taste to vanish. "A bit strong."

Oliver smirks. "You'll get used to it."

"I don't think so," I say, rubbing my chest. "It's still burning my esophagus."

"Means it's working," he says, shifting his body towards me. "So how's it like having a general as a father?"

"How do you think?"

"Right. Well, it explains a lot," Oliver notes. "Maybe you're not completely mental after all."

"Yeah? Granting me a little grace?" I ask, suppressing a smile.

"Perhaps just a tad," he smirks. "Or maybe I'm just trying to suck up to you so that your father doesn't murder me."

"Maybe you should suck up to me so that I don't murder you," I counter. "I have learned a few skills over the years."

"Really?" he laughs. "Like what?"

I lean in closer to Oliver and whisper, "Let's just say I have excellent aim."

"Americans and their bloody guns," he muses, shaking his head in amusement. "I should've known."

"Guns? Please." I roll my eyes. "I was talking about archery. My dad won't even let me drive. I doubt he'd let me fire a gun."

"You can't drive?" he asks, widening his eyes. They're more green than grey today. I wonder if it's because it's cloudy. 

"Umm...I have my learner's permit," I explain as I avert my gaze, realizing I've been semi-staring at him. "But my dad says I'm not allowed to actually drive a car. It makes no sense, I know."

"You should just do it anyway," Oliver smirks. "Fuck what your dad says."

"You don't know my dad," I whisper. "His word is final."

"He's in D.C. remember?" Oliver notes. "Can't see how he could stop you."

"Well, I have no one to teach me so-" I shrug. Eddie was supposed to teach me but then my father whisked him off to D.C. No one stays. I sigh, forcing a smile. Don't be a downer. Positive. Happy. Manifest. "I guess it's town cars for life."

Oliver licks his lips, his eyes contemplative, thoughtful. "Want to learn how to ride a motorcycle?" he asks, his tone uncomfortable, uneasy.

"A motorcycle?" I snort. What an image. "Good one."

"It's not hard," he says in a casual tone, tossing me a slight shrug. "I could show you sometime. If you want."

"You're going to let me ride your motorcycle? The one I wasn't even allowed to touch a few days ago?" I ask, tilting my head suspiciously. "Seriously?"

He suddenly stiffens, turning away from me. I can't see his face but he seems mad. Why is he mad?! "You're right. Bad idea. I don't know what I was thinking."

Great, now I've pissed him off. Good job. Way to go. What if that was his version of a truce? Was he actually offering? I thought he was kidding. He must have been kidding. But if he wasn't-

Damn it! If this arrangement is going to work then Oliver and I need to at least try and get along. People will notice if we're constantly shooting death glares at each other. Plus, riding a motorcycle does seem kind of fun, dangerous as fuck, but fun.

"I mean if you want to show me," I whisper, Oliver's body language radiating serious disdain. "I wouldn't be, you know, totally opposed."

"No," he huffs, pulling out his phone and popping an AirPod into his ear. Oh, okay. Ignored. "You'd probably scratch it or die or something."

"Kay," I hum, picking at my nails. Crap. Is he going to be salty for the rest of the night now? We were doing so well earlier. It was almost...nice. I crane my neck towards him. Maybe I can remedy this situation. "What're you listening to?"

"Music," he states flatly, closing his eyes and pulling his hood over his head. "Wake me up when we're there."

Nevermind. It's pointless.

____________________

Oh boy, just when they start to kind of get along...ooof.

Let's hope this party goes off without a hitch *evil laugh*

THOUGHTS? Predictions?

Us to Ollie: