My Sanity in This Insane World

Oliver's friend.

The one thing I absolutely hated about hanging out with Oliver.

They had to be everywhere with Oliver. They were like a bunch of lost puppies. It was pathetic. I barely had any alone time. I seriously think sometimes that they are the reason I would never date Oliver.

He's stranded me, again, and at party.

Fucking twat.

Another fucking bird that wanted to get in his pants got her way, because Oliver's friends talked him into it. Again. For about the billionth time.

I sat on the couch, listening to the pathetic douche try to sweet talk to me. He didn't even do it right. Plus, I had to leave with Oliver, as he had my keys. House, car, everything.

"So, if you want to, we could always find a room." He seemed to grow centimeters closer by the second. I simply got up, and went to the backyard. Total bitch move, but whatever. I was upset, mad, angry. Every word for wanting to just bash your best friend's face in.

I sipped on my drink, waiting in the cold night air. I hadn't had time to grab a jacket before Oliver barged into my house, telling me that we were partying that night.

I hated parties. I hated them with a passion. A crowded house, with horrid music, and about a thousand kids from fifteen to twenty-eight?

Fun.

I didn't really even know anyone here. Sure, I used to go to school with these kids, but we never talk anymore.

I shivered, running a hand through my hair.

"Excuse me," a soft voice said. I looked over my shoulder, meeting a pair of striking gray eyes. "You look cold." He didn't have an English accent. More Scottish, if anything. "Would you like my sweatshirt?"

Before I could even reply, he shrugged it off, and handed it to me. I smiled at him.

"Won't you get cold?"

Whenever I talked to someone remotely beautiful, besides, well, Oliver, my voice would drop a few pitches, turning it into a husky sort of feel. He smirked, looking my face over.

"Better myself freeze then a pretty girl." I giggled, a small blush forming on my cheeks.

"Well, thanks. I'm Lennox."

"Hi there Lennox, I'm - "

"There you are Lennox! I've been looking everywhere for you! Where the fuck where you?" Oliver interrupted.

I ignored him, ushering this mystery man along.

"You are?"

"I'm Sam. And if I can get your number, I'll catch up to you later though, alright?" He looked over at Oliver. I nodded, giving him my digits. He said he'd text or call sometime tonight, and then he was gone.

"You fucking twat!" I yelled, punching Oliver in the arm.

"What?" he yelled, as I pushed by him. "Don't be meeting boys at parties. They're up to no good."

"Says the guy who is constantly banging chicks."

"Exactly. I know what guys want. They just want in your pants."

"Oliver," I said, now a bit closer to the house, "I'm a big fucking girl. He seemed nice. I wanted to meet him."

"Okay, but I don't like him."

"Well, that's too bad. Don't you think I deserve to have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah I think you should have a boyfriend, but not him per say." We were walking through the house, making our way to my car. I stopped when we were pretty close to the little vehicle, turning and looking at him.

I could see the keys in his hands. I felt them when he placed his hands on my waist, his forehead on mine. Normally, I'd be alright with this sort of behavior from him, but not tonight.

I wiggled my way out of him, practically pried the keys out of his hands, and said, "I think you need to find a ride home from someone else tonight, Oliver."

His emotions when from anger to sad to pain.

"Alright, Noxy. I'll be home by three at the latest. Don't wait - "

"No, Oliver. Your own home."

I could tell I just hurt him the worst I could have ever done. I felt so bad. However, I needed to get away from him. Get over Mr. Sykes, and find a new, great guy.

"Goodnight, Oliver," I said, turning around.

"Goodnight, Noxy," I heard him whisper.

The car ride was quiet, something I haven't had in quite awhile. The car was always filled with Oliver screaming, laughing, and dancing like a crazy person. It was just still.

And when I got home, it wasn't any better.

I stood in my kitchen, sipping on a cup of water. I couldn't believe I said that to him.

I shrugged. He's probably come home anyway. I didn't even know if he still owned a house. He had a key if he needed in. I just decided to turn off my phone, and just go to bed.

If he needed to talk to me, he would wake me.