Believe Me, I'm Lying

"Olive!"

Oliver took a step back in surprise as Elliot barreled towards him, his arms out-stretched. Oliver shot me a wary look as he collided with Oliver’s legs, wrapping his tiny arms around them, his cheek pressing into Oliver’s thigh.

"Hey El," I greeted, kicking off my shoes.

Elliot looked up at me, grinning widely. "Hi, Pig."

"Don’t…" I trailed off, sighing. It seemed like Elliot would always call me Pig. It wasn’t worth reprimanding him every time.

"Here," Oliver grunted, thrusting his hand towards Elliot, keeping his head raised and looking away.

I glanced down to see Oliver holding out a lollipop to Elliot. Elliot quickly took the lollipop, his eyes wide in excitement. "Thanks!"

"Whatever," Oliver muttered, standing stiffly.

Suddenly Will sauntered into the room, clad in only a dressy shirt and boxers. I blushed, staring at him incredulously.

"Harley, have you seen my black dress pants?" he asked, fiddling with his tie. "I think they might have gotten mixed in with your laundry…"

I glanced at Oliver to see him staring at Will with a blank expression. Will looked up, his eyes widening in surprise when they landed on Oliver. A flush appeared on his face and he laughed sheepishly. "Oh, I didn’t realize you brought a guest."

"Why are you walking around my house in your underwear?" I demanded, feeling his embarrassment.

Will pursed his lips at me. "I just said I was looking for my pants."

"That doesn’t explain why you’re not wearing pants!" I quickly stole another look at Oliver. He still had a blank expression on.

"I’m just going to go to my house and get a different pair," Will stated awkwardly, his eyes flickering to Oliver.

I nodded vehemently. "Good idea." Grabbing Oliver’s arm, I dragged him further into my apartment to let Will slip by us, and out the door. "Sorry about that," I apologized, avoiding eye contact.

To my surprise, Oliver chuckled. "Is that your boyfriend?"

I blinked in surprise. "What?"

Oliver smirked. "Husband?"

"No! He’s my neighbor," I told Oliver, shaking my head. "He’s just… Well, he’s Will." There were no words to describe him.

Oliver shrugged. "That’s not very exciting. So, this apartment is only yours?"

"Um, yeah," I responded, plucking a piece of string off my shirt. It was weird saying that to Oliver now that he knew my parents were dead. My chest constricted slightly, but I took a deep breath, forcing it to go away.

"How long have you been friends with Will for?"

I stared at Oliver, furrowing my eyebrows. That was an odd question. "I don’t know… Since a few days after I moved here? About ten months? Why?"

Oliver shrugged again. "I’m just curious. How’d you two meet?"

I bit my lip, trying to remember. "I think the first day I moved here, Elliot was being a hassle while I was trying to move everything in, so Will came over and helped me… He told me he reminded me of a helpless puppy, and that he wanted to help me out." I smiled from the memory. "Which is a good thing, I guess. He home-schools me."

"Oh," Oliver responded simply.

"Yep…"

Suddenly there was a tug at my shirt. I looked down to see Elliot looking at me disapprovingly. "Oliver’s here to play with me, not you, Pig."

I half-smiled. "Right. Sorry, Eli."

Elliot grabbed Oliver’s hand and started dragging them towards his room. Oliver sent a wary look at me.

"He won’t kill you," I assured Oliver.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I know that. I just haven’t been around little kids in awhile…"

I did my best to keep my face straight. That’s right. He rarely ever got to see his little sister. Meanwhile, I lived with mine and saw him every day… Oliver suddenly scowled at me. I stared at him, blinking in surprise.

"Your face is telling me your pitying me," he snapped.

I held my hands up. "No, no! I’m not. I’m just thinking…"

Oliver relaxed slightly, but still looked uncomfortable. It looked like he was arguing with himself for a moment, and finally he sighed. "Sorry."

"Don’t be," I responded, shaking my head. "I was the same way after… you know…"

Oliver frowned at me. "Why didn’t you just say your parents died when we first met?"

I gave him a sheepish look. "I really don’t know."

"It would have saved you a lot of…" he trailed off, clenching his jaw.

"What?"

Oliver adverted his eyes, glaring at the corner of the room. "I’m sorry about the time I snapped at you for getting angry with me when I was badmouthing my parents. And the time where I told you that you shouldn’t pretend to understand things you don’t. I didn’t realize you actually did…"

My mouth opened slightly. Why did Oliver want to apologize for saying those things now? They were in the past— and he was right. He didn’t know. "You don’t have to apologize," I finally told him. "It’s my fault too."

"I know," he deadpanned, making me wince. "But I also feel guilty about it," he muttered, nearly forcing the words out.

I stayed silent for a moment, gazing at Oliver. What happened to the jerk he usually was all the time? Was it because we had something in common now? We both had experienced the death of our mothers? Or was he pitying me— no, he definitely wasn’t doing that. He didn’t want pity, and he didn’t give it. Maybe he was just truly feeling guilty. It made me smile.

"Well, thank you," I finally said. "It’s in the past now, so you can forget about it."

"Ahem." Elliot cleared his throat, peering up at us with an impatient expression. "Wii?"

"We what?" Oliver asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"No. Wii."

"We?"

I laughed. "The videogame system, Oliver."

"Oh," Oliver responded, frowning again. "Right. Come on, Elliot."

"Pig?"

"I’ll be right there," I told Elliot. "I have to talk to Will for a second."

Oliver glanced at me, a smirk appearing on his lips. "Your boyfriend? Are you going to tell him you’ll be late for dinner?"

"He’s not my boyfriend!"

"Okay, Harley."

"He’s not!"

"Sure."

I scowled, but refused to argue with him. It was pointless. And it wasn’t like it mattered to Oliver whether Will was my boyfriend or not. Which was a little annoying. Wasn’t he jealous? I almost slapped myself in the face. What was I thinking? Why would Oliver be jealous? It’s not like we were a couple or anything.

Shoving my thoughts away and without another word to Oliver, I headed to the door, going over to Will’s apartment. When I entered, I saw Will staring at the television, still wearing no pants. He glanced at me, looking unfazed about me seeing him in his underwear again.

I couldn’t help but to grin. "Will, why aren’t you wearing pants still?"

He gave me an irritated expression. "I can’t find them! I need them now!"

"Why?"

"I have to meet with my publisher," Will told me, glancing back at the T.V. "I’m supposed to dress nice, and those are the only dressy slacks I have."

I pursed my lips, thinking for a moment. "Have you tried the top drawer in your closet?"

Will’s mouth opened, and his eyes widened slightly. He bolted from the living room and into his room before I could speak again. A few moments later he reappeared, now fully clothed. He grinned at me. "Duh."

"Now that I’ve helped you, you have to help me," I told him, cutting straight to the point. "Will you watch Elliot on Sunday? I have plans."

"Of course, darling," Will responded, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Sunday is fine. But I’m busy tomorrow, so if you need someone tomorrow, I can’t be it."

I cocked my head to the side. "Where are you going?"

"Date."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," Will echoed, grinning. "Of course I’d much rather go on a date with you—"

I cut him off. "Someone your age is better. Who is she?"

Will shrugged. "Just some girl my friend wants to set me up with."

I wagged my eyebrows. "Well, you better behave yourself on that date."

"You better behave yourself tonight," Will countered, frowning. "I didn’t know you were bringing a boy over. I don’t like the thought of you and him being alone in an empty apartment together."

I ducked my head. "Elliot’s there. Besides, Oliver and I aren’t… dating or anything," I assured him. "We’re friends."

Will nodded approvingly. “Good. Now, off you go. I don’t want you here when my publisher gets here. She might kill someone.”

"Aren’t you supposed to pick her up?"

Will shrugged. "She insisted. Now, scoot the boot." He grabbed my shoulders and began leading me towards the door. "I have my cell phone if you need anything."

I stepped into the hall, frowning at Will. "Okay. You call me if you get drunk and need a ride home."

Will grinned sheepishly. "That won’t happen again."

"Good." That was not a very pleasant memory. A drunk Will equals dirty seats.

When I finally joined Oliver and Elliot in Elliot’s room, I found them in an intense Mario Cart race. Elliot was going full out, turning his whole body as he made Yoshi turn a corner. Oliver, on the other hand, was driving like a confident actor in a speed race scene. He only had one hand on the steering wheel and he was leaning back, casually turning the wheel when needed. Suddenly Elliot let out a victorious cry, jumping off the ground, and nearly jumping on Oliver.

"I beat you!" he cried excitedly.

I half-expected Oliver to throw Elliot across the room. Oliver didn’t seem like the touchy-feely type. To the contrary though, Oliver emitted a low chuckle, ruffling Elliot’s hair. "Good job, kiddo."

Elliot grinned at Oliver for another moment. Then he noticed me. "Pig!"

Oliver turned his neck so fast I knew he must have cricked it. He winced slightly, bringing a hand up to rub it. I almost laughed. Oliver seemed to regain his composure, and he shot me a smug smile. "You’re done with your boyfriend already?"

"He’s not—" I started, but quickly cut myself off, pursing my lips. "Yeah, I’m done."

Oliver gave me another smug look before turning back to the T.V. Doing my best not to snap at him, I pulled out my cell phone. If Arden and I were going to talk on Sunday, we needed to make plans. After a few moments of going through my contacts, I realized with annoyance I didn’t have Arden’s number. A sigh escaped my lips. Now how was I supposed to contact him?

"Shoot," Oliver muttered to himself, wrenching the steering wheel in the opposite direction.

My eyes widened in realization. Oliver and Arden weren’t friends now, but they had been at one point, so that meant Oliver should have Arden’s number! "Hey, Oliver."

"Hold on," he muttered, focusing intently on the race. A few moments later Elliot let out an excited squeal and Oliver sighed. He turned to me, a sour expression on his face. "What?"

"Don’t like being beaten by a five year old?" I quipped, smirking at him.

"Shut up," he snapped. "What do you want?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him. "Do you have Arden’s phone number?"

Oliver’s face became hard. "Why?"

"For Sunday."

Oliver stayed silent.

"Do you have it?" I repeated.

Oliver shrugged. "I don’t know."

"Can you check?"

"I don’t know, can I?" Oliver quipped, smirking again.

"Yes, you can!"

Oliver gave me another irritating smile before reaching his hand into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. He flipped through it for a minute, staying silent. He suddenly scowled and looked up at me. "I still have."

Relief washed over me. "Great. What is it?"

"I’m not telling you," Oliver drawled.

I deadpanned him. "Oliver."

"Harley.".

"Just give me his number!"

"Nope."

"I need to call him!"

"Too bad."

I scowled, hovering over Oliver with my hands on my hips. "Please, Oliver." He shook his head. "Fine, then I’ll take it by force." I reached down a hand to snag it from him, but he quickly pulled it away from me before I could.

"Hey, this is an invasion of privacy," Oliver joked, keeping the phone out of my reach.

"Oliver, seriously," I growled, attempting to grab it again.

"Oliver, seriously," he mocked.

Elliot giggled. "Oliver, seriously," he chirped.

I turned to give him a quick glare. Then I turned back to Oliver. "Look what you’ve started."

"Look what you’ve started!" Elliot echoed gleefully.

Oliver simpered at me, looking pleased with himself. He relaxed his arm, letting his grasp on the phone loosen. I took this as my chance. Before Oliver could react, I quickly moved forwards, shooting out my arm to grab it. What I didn’t expect was one of Elliot’s toys to be under my foot, and cause me to fall. A startled cry escaped my lips as I fell face first onto Oliver. Our heads knocked together, causing me to wince in pain.

Oliver was on his back now, and I was over him, pinning him to the ground. A blush made its’ way onto my face when I realized what position we were in. Oliver looked bored, still keeping his arm out of my reach.

"You going to get off?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," I stuttered, going to push myself up. Oliver nodded, bringing his cell phone closer again. I shoved all my embarrassment aside and lunged forward, nearly collapsing on Oliver again. This time I got the phone. "Got it!" I cried, immediately rolling off Oliver and scooting myself away.

"Hey," Oliver protested, now also pushing himself back into a sitting position.

I quickly pulled out my cell phone, copying down Arden’s number. When I was done, I tossed Oliver back his phone. "Here."

He grabbed it, stuffing it back into his pocket. "I find it amusing that to get Arden’s phone number, we had to have an Arden moment."

"Huh?"

Oliver smirked at me. "Usually Arden is the one who gets down with the ladies. Albeit, he’s usually the one to make the first move."

I frowned at Oliver. What did he mean by that? Was he trying to insinuate Arden actually was indeed a playboy? I shook my head. Until I knew Arden’s side, I wasn’t going to judge him.

"Why do you need to contact him, anyway?" Oliver asked, realizing I wasn’t going to reply to his jab at Arden.

I frowned at him. "Because we need to talk about something,"

"Like what?"

"Something," I repeated, shaking my head at Oliver. "It’s none of your business."

Oliver glanced down at his phone again for a moment. "I don’t trust that guy around you."

I blinked at Oliver’s sudden solemn tone. "Huh?"

Oliver shook his head. "Never mind. Tell me what you guys are talking about."

"No," I responded with a sigh. "I just need to talk to him, alright?"

Oliver shrugged. "Fine. You don’t have to tell me. But good luck talking to Arden when you have his old cell phone number, and not his current one."

My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Oliver had tricked me? I shot a glare at him, and he returned it with a self-satisfied grin.

"Olive," Elliot started, tugging on Oliver’s arm. "The next race is about to start."

"Okay. I’m going to beat you," Oliver told Elliot, nudging him in the side. "I’m ready this time."

Elliot giggled in excitement and I continued to stare at Oliver’s back with a dumbfounded expression. How could he be such a jerk, then be nice, then be even nicer, and then become a jerk again? Maybe it was like the question, "how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?"

I sighed. The world may never know.