CHAPTER 74: DISAPPEARING AGAIN

Chapter Seventy-Four

**Kieran Morrison**

All weekend, my emotions had been a fucking storm, and it changed too rapidly for me to process.

It started that Saturday morning when Oliver had confessed that he liked me.

Even now, replaying that moment in my head, I hadn’t quite believed I’d heard them right.

I hadn’t dared to hope that he might feel something other than hate for me after everything I’d put him through.

All I’d meant that morning was to mess with him a little - as payback for being around so many guys at that party, for getting himself so drunk and letting that bastard dance with him.

But then he’d dropped that bomb on me, leaving me more confused than I’d ever been in my life.

Then, spending time with him in that park, hanging around like we did as kids, kissing him while he had candy in his mouth - it was all I’d thought about all weekend.

Every detail was burned into my memory: the way his lips tasted sweet, how his body had melted against mine, the little sound he’d made when I’d pulled him closer. I’d replayed it so many times it felt more real than anything else in my life.

Then, I’d driven him home reluctantly, wanting to spend more time with him, but he’d insisted on going back to his mom and sister. Seeing his father had shaken him up, and I’d wanted to be understanding. Take things slower.

But when I’d asked him to be mine this morning, he’d said no.

The rejection had hit me harder than I thought it would.

I used to be able to read Oliver easily, every emotion played across his face like an open book. Now I was finding him more and more complicated, and it was driving me insane.

If he liked me like he said, shouldn’t he want to be my boyfriend?

What was I missing?

I should have had experience in these, but surprisingly, I didn’t. Because I’d simply never defined the relationship I’d had with nameless faces.

I’d told Ollie that it didn’t matter what his response was because he was mine anyway, which was true.

He’d been mine since we were kids, even when I’d been too fucked up to realize it. But I’d wanted his response to be yes.

I’d needed him to belong to me and hear him make it official.

I should have asked him why he said no, but part of me had been too anxious. Several dark ’what ifs’ had swallowed me entirely.

There were so many reasons that could have possibly made him refuse.

What if it was because he still hated me?

What if his confession was just some twisted way to get back at me? What if he was playing games with my head the way I’d played with his?

The thought made something cold and vicious curl in my chest. I couldn’t bear to hear that response, which was why I’d just claimed him instead

The way I had faked being his boyfriend and snuck my way into making it real.

Well, almost.

Because Ollie had said no. Well, he’d technically said I should give him space to think about it, but I wasn’t stupid. It technically meant the same thing.

Now, lunch break was over and I couldn’t find him anywhere. It was starting to eat at me, that familiar itch under my skin that came whenever Oliver wasn’t where I expected him to be.

Before, when I was tormenting him, he used to be so predictable. I always knew exactly where to find him.

The irony was bitter.

A dark feeling twisted in my chest as I thought of that motherfucker from this morning.

Xander.

Just thinking his name made my vision tint red around the edges. Don’t fucking tell me Oliver is playing tour guide for that piece of shit. If he is hanging out with that loser, if he is letting him get close...

My eyes narrowed as I spotted Xander entering the classroom alone.

Oliver was nowhere around him, but that didn’t ease the tension coiling in my muscles.

I dialled Ollie’s number again.

No answer.

Where the fuck was he?

I forgot about attending class and walked out to the empty classroom where I usually hung out with my friends.

I wasn’t surprised to see Vince there, he looked up when I entered with that lazy expression he always wore.

I nodded at him in acknowledgement and pulled out a cigarette, my jaw clenched so tight it ached. I tried texting Oliver again. Still no response.

The thoughts were creeping in like poison. Maybe he doesn’t really like me, who knew if right now, he was somewhere laughing about how pathetic I was behaving, how desperate I’d become.

I scrolled through my phone, deciding to distract myself with the internet.

I immediately regretted it.

My father’s face stared back at me from some charity event article - he’d even cut his hair for the photo at the children’s cancer foundation.

The perfect concerned philanthropist. Like he actually gave a shit about anyone’s life besides his own.

The sight of his face made my stomach twist with familiar disgust. Mom had mentioned he was coming back soon.

I guess keeping up his remarkable public image kept him too busy to bother with his actual family, not that I was complaining.

The last thing I needed was him around, especially now, when I was still trying to figure out what the hell was happening with Oliver.

I crushed my finished cigarette under my boot and pulled out another, I felt more frustrated than ever, maybe a second smoke would help.

"You’re smoking heavily again, are you sure everything’s alright?" Vince’s voice cut through my thoughts.

My gaze snapped to him, the irritation I felt flaring.

This wasn’t the first time he’d asked me this today, especially after first period when Oliver had rejected me and I’d gone to the balcony to have a smoke.

I’d kept saying I was fine, but his persistent voice was grating on my nerves.

He used to mind his own business until lately.

I was still pissed at him for running his mouth to my mom about me staying at his place, though that anger had dulled somewhat.

The only reason I hadn’t fought with him about it was because Oliver had been there in our house that day.

That had also been the day I’d snapped out of whatever had convinced me to keep hurting Oliver. It was all thanks to him, although I’d never admit it out loud, I was grateful for that.

"You should worry about yourself and your new admirer," I replied, steering the conversation away from me and my fucked-up mental state.