People Got A Lotta Nerve

"Uh....this is Blake. My roommate."

Awkward silence. Very awkward silence.

"Your roommate's a guy?" Oliver, now back in his clothes, had crossed his arms over his chest and flipped his fringe out of his face, eyes locked on Blake.

Poor Blake, the guy had basically walked into a mine field in his very own home. "Yeah, I just moved in." Regardless of the situation, a huge smile was still plastered on his face. "I've heard a bit about you." Blake stuck his hand out enthusiastically in front of Oliver, as if there was no tension in the room whatsoever. I almost felt bad for the guy; anyone could see the look on Oliver's face teetering in between confusion and a hint of jealousy, his mind feverishly trying to pick up on any body language or subtle cues that would give off anything shady about Blake and my relationship. Finally, Oliver relented, just a little, and slapped his palm against Blake's, refusing to do a traditional handshake.

Blake's smile dropped just a fraction of an inch, probably out of more confusion than being sad, before withdrawing his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too." Oliver mumbled, before turning to me. "You wanna walk me to the hotel?"

"What?! You walked here?! That's a decent distance!" I exclaimed, my mouth dropping slightly open.

Oliver shrugged. "I don't have a car here, you know. What am I going to do, take the bus?" He laughed uncomfortably under his breath.

"Well, how did you get here in twenty minutes if you were walking?"

He shrugged again, and took my hand, leading me towards the door. As we both passed Blake, who was still standing awkwardly in between us and the door, he mumbled a short goodbye to Blake before hastily removing us both from the situation. Once outside, I could feel his grip on my fingers loosen. For a split second, I thought he was going to release my hand completely, but right as my palm began sliding, he gripped me a little tighter again, pulling my body closer to his as we began our walk down the sidewalk, out of the suburbs.

I know, its weird to think that a 20 year old starving college student can have a house, especially in the suburbs. Its actually my parent's, though. One of their houses, at least. See, back in the early 90's, Southern California experienced a huge population boom, especially down here in San Diego. My parents, being ever so crafty, decided to enter the real estate business, buying older homes and fixing them, before selling them again to flip the profits. This house, the one I had shared with Emma and now with Blake, was a two bedroom, one bath craftsman style built around 1942, one of the few originals still in the neighborhood. It was funny, seeing my quaint little house surrounded by huge stucco fortresses, but it worked somehow, just like me. We were both puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit into our surroundings, just like I, right now, didn't belong holding hands which such a devastatingly attractive boy.

We had reached the corner, a good 3 or 4 minutes for saying anything, before Oliver turned, bringing his hand that was holding mine behind him so my hand wrapped around his waist, the space between us quickly becoming nonexistent. I had fully expected a kiss, tilting my jaw forward and closing my eyes, waiting for him to fill the gap between our lips just like he has with the space between our hips, but after a few seconds, I felt nothing. Sheepishly, I opened my eyes, unsure of what to expect. His head was still in the same place, his eyes gazing down at mine, his lips upturned into a crooked smile.

"You're proper adorable, you know that?"

I blushed, and shook my head. "You're a tease, Mr. Sykes."

"A tease? Just cause I don't want to snog on the street corner? Boundaries, love, boundaries."

I rolled my eyes, biting the corner of my lip. "Then why'd you pull me into you, hmm?"

Oliver's eyes didn't waver at all. "Just wanted to look into those eyes of yours. Give a guy a chance, yeah? Cant be stopping some poor unsuspecting bloke in his tracks too much, can you? We'll never get me back."

The blush on my cheeks intensified, and sprawled, now rushing up my cheekbones, all the way to my ears. "Hush, Oliver." I whispered, averting my eyes, staring at a crack in the pavement. A little white flower grew triumphantly between the sidewalk squares, beating the odds somehow.

His fingers were freezing, which was especially odd in the 70 degree Southern Californian night. I felt them right under my jawbone, pulling my face off that flower and back onto his. He had a slight blush too, but it was probably from the wind, not from me. I had never seen Oliver blush. He had that rock star vibe, the one that was always cool under pressure and under these kinds of situations. He was always in control, always confident, always the one to pull me in for a kiss or take my hand, and I was always the more than willing participant. His eyes were a mix of the darkest brown and a green the same color of leaves in Autumn, absolutely beautiful. I felt my mind began to float away from my body, captured in those eyes, getting lost in my thoughts as he captivated me, without having to say a word.

"You're so beautiful." His words sounded like they had been forced from his lungs, as if he had just ran a marathon. His other hand crept up to my face too, now both thumbs lightly stroking down my jawbone as his other fingers raked through my hair, his index fingers resting right below my ears. My hands snaked around his waist tighter, his hipbones taking up their new familiar spot against my stomach as I felt him breathe into me.

I was still silent, unable to speak as my brain hovered somewhere in the space between our eyes, caught halfway between my own consciousness and the corners of his mind, calling out to me through those eyes of his. The air around us was stagnant, the wind seeming to die as soon as my face was in his hands, the only moving air around us residing in our lungs. I could hear families with young children, their laughing and airy banter vibrating through the dense air from their homes, the lights from the kitchens and living rooms illuminated this little piece of paradise I had found on the street corner.

My old, beat up vans shifted under loose pebbles and rocks as my head cocked slightly to the side, causing my whole body to just slightly move. Oliver's hands loosened slightly, his hands combing through my hair as a piece of my fringe fell onto my forehead, even though it had previously been pinned back. His hand brushed the piece of hair back gently, so it sat higher on my forehead, his fingertips sending icy chills all the way down to my toes. I shivered slightly, my knees starting to buckle as I leaned into him, just in case my knees were truly to go out and I was to make a fool of myself.

He laughed, under his breath all over again, this time bringing his forehead to mine, the hair from his fringe tickling the very tip of my nose gently as his eyes looked downward for the first time, releasing my mind back into my head. I giggled back, bringing our lips together, the kiss I had been wanting all along finally materializing. He kissed back, if only for a second, before letting me go, keeping his hand still around mine.

The walk after that was surprisingly uneventful. We had passed a man walking a dog, a happy golden retriever we had leaned whose name was Roxy. Roxy jumped up onto Oliver, coating his hand in a multitude of dog kisses as we both laughed, my hands scratching behind her ears feverishly. After that, we passed an older couple, their tiny bodies huddled closely together as they slowly swayed down the street, speaking in hushed voices in a foreign language. As we passed them, I looked back after a few feet, to see their hands clenched together in between them, the man rubbing the outside of the woman's hand with his thumb. I scooted into Oliver just a little bit closer that moment, the simple pleasure of spending a quiet, peaceful time with someone like him hitting me like a ton of bricks. He had just smiled, and kissed the top of my head, his nose buried in my hair for just a second.

By the time we had reached his hotel, it was way too late for me to walk home by myself. It may be pseudo-suburban, but a girl walking alone late at night was just a recipe for disaster. So, Oliver and I had briefly said hello to his bandmates, who much to my relief, had greeted me warmly with huge smiles, even after the party incident. Then, we giggled and walked ourselves down a few doors, to Oliver's room.

"We all have separate rooms," He explained, sliding the card through the card key slot, "We all just like hanging out together til we are absolutely ready to crash. We're like a family out here." The door clicked open, and he let me in first.

I walked in, and instantly sat on the bed, the annoying cheap cotton bedspread barely moving under me. "What about your real family?"

"Back home?"

I nodded as he sat down next to me, our legs barely touching.

"Well, I got my little brother, Tom. He's fucking mental, I love the kid. And then my mum and dad. Pretty normal and all." He fell back, now belly up on the bed, his feet still planted on the floor. I fell back as well, onto my side, my arm propping up my head as I looked over him, my hand lightly rubbing across his stomach.

He looked at me, his eyes focusing in on mine. "And what about yours?"

"My what?" Head cocked to the side again, my classic confused look.

"You family, love. Where are they?"

Ugh, family. I could feel some kind of wave of tension shoot up my spine. "I don't really know."

"...You have no idea where your family is? What about your mum?"

I shook my head. "Haven't spoken in years. They just gave me the title to the house, and left."

"Why?"

I shrugged. "I got this sister." The words came out shaky and high pitched as they squeaked out of my mouth along with a ragged, low breath. "I got this sister who got real, real sick. They, my parents, they got money, you know? So they took her to all the best places to get her better. Flew everywhere, Paris, Sydney, Toronto, just to see specialist after specialist."

"What was she sick with?" Oliver whispered, taking the hand that I had been grazing his stomach with in his hand. I hadn't even noticed my hands had stopped moving across his body until then.

"Cancer...A..A-A brain tumor. In her head."

His hand squeezed mine extra tight, just for that moment. It gave me more strength than I even knew I had.

Another deep breath. "She was 15, I was 17. She was the princess, you know? I was the big sister, always the responsible one, the one who had to watch Evan....Evangeline. I called her Evan. Everyone did. But yeah, she was my responsibility."

"Chrissy and Evan." Oliver whispered, his eyes intently focused on mine.

"Mhm, that was us. I failed though. She got those headaches, was always losing her balance. She was in dance, too. She had to stop. She could barely even stand up on her own after a while. She withered away."

"Christian, you did not fail."

"It was my job to keep her safe. I couldn't do it."

"No one can control that, though. Especially you."

"Oliver...I wasn't even there when she died."

I fell back all the way onto the bed, rolling over. I couldn't let Oliver see my tears. I tried to stay as still as possible, my body working as hard as it could to not let the sobs rack my whole body; the telltale shaking would definitely alert Oliver to my tears. His arms pulled me close into him, his body creating a perfect spoon against mine, his face nuzzled close into the back of my shoulder and neck. I could feel his breath, slow and steady on my neck.

Nothing more needed to be said. He held me there, on that cheap hotel bed, until I finally let my tears fall free and the sobs made my body heave violently, the years and years I had spent of crying alone, crumpled alone on my bedroom floor, now finally consummating into this one moment with Oliver, whose hands did not waver. Even as I cried and cried, my face becoming red and the tears steaming off my face, his breath still felt warm on my neck, his hands keeping me pressed into his body, my sobs probably shaking the both of us.
Finally, after what seemed like hours and hours, my last tear fell, cascading down my cheek in a path made by the tears before it. He gently kissed my earlobe, before whispering, in a voice as delicate it could have easily broken in half;

Everything will be alright, baby."