Me and Oli Talking

Imagine starting at a new school in a new town that’s three-fourths the size of the place you last lived. Imagine walking down the hall and feeling like a complete freak because you stand out so much in this new place that you just want to crawl under a rock and die. Now imagine, if you will, sitting alone at lunch because no one wants to sit by the freak, when out of nowhere this boy asks to sit with you. His name was Oliver and he had the most amazing smile. I know, I know. It’s rather cliché and cheesy, but it’s the truth. He had blue-black hair that hung over his chocolate brown eyes. He reminded me then and now of a puppy; so eager to please and be friendly and make everyone feel loved and accepted. Oliver was and is the only person that was any where close to looking as I did. With my crimson red hair and blonde low-lights and blue eyes. I stuck out like a sore thumb, but Oliver was there from the beginning.

“So, you’re new here?” Oliver asked, curiosity clear in his chocolate eyes.
“Yeah, moved here from Ireland. Little bit of a change.”
Oliver looked at me for a long time before responding, “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It’s just that where I used to live was so big, full of so many photo opportunities. And this” I looked around the crowded cafeteria, “Is so much smaller, and hostile. I cannot tell you how many odd looks I’ve gotten since I stepped through the doors at 8 A.M. It’s ridiculous. Is everyone here like this?”
“I’m afraid so. Small town, everyone knows everyone else. ’Outsiders’ are not really welcome.” he smiles, “Eh, don’t let people here get you down. We’re really quite pleasant after you get to know us. I really like your hair by the way. It’s a refreshing change, maybe you can do mine sometime.”
I looked at him for a long bit before smiling. “Thank you! That is the kindest thing I have heard all day.”
His smile never leaves his face as he tells me about the cliques; from the social head, to the bottom feeders. There are the athletic students, you’re typical cheerleaders and football players. The “Popular” crowd, ya know the stuck up type. Geeks and math nerds. The band kids. Teenage disasters. And finally the freaks. That is where I fell into and where I keep many friends now-Thanks to Oliver. I found that those considered freaks were just really people like me waiting for someone to help them be their selves. None of them really had the confidence to stand out like I did.

“We should definitely hang out after school.” Oliver was right at my elbow as I stepped out of my Advanced English IV class, “You could show me your camera and tell your parents you made at least one new friend. I think it’d be reassuring to them that you’re adjusting well.”
I smile at him sadly, “That would be fun.”
“Wait! There’s something wrong.” He steps in front of me and looks me dead in the eye, searching for an answer, “Is there something going on at home? You don’t have to tell you, ya know. I’m just curious and besides someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be so down aboot anything. That frown is most unbecoming of you.”
I had to laugh, even if a little, at that last statement, “It’s just that my dad is been ill for a while and my mom spends most of her time with him. It’s nothing. Just… please don’t feel sorry for us. If it’s one thing my mother hates is sympathy from others when she thinks she’s got it under control.”
“I understand. My grandpa passed away last summer and my mother was the same way.”
I smile at him and then dig my keys out of my jacket pocket, “Well, then… To the Bat Mobile!”

As Oliver is settling himself into my passenger seat, I reach into the center console to switch out CD’s. I quickly find my favorite Chiodos album and replace my Falling In Reverse CD with it. As “Baby, You Wouldn’t Last A Minute On The Creek” begins to play Oliver’s eyes get big and he turns the volume up. I’m glad to see that someone here as a good taste in music. I pull out of the school’s parking lot and take a left. As we drive towards my little home, Oliver tells me stories about when he was a kid and a friend he used to have whom, from what I have gathered, is no longer in town. Boy, you should see the look in his eyes as he recalls it all. There’s a spark to them and he looks so happy. He tells me how he first rode a bike and how he skinned his knee up so bad his mother passed out from the blood. Listening to his pleasant memories gives me hope that maybe staying here won’t be that bad. But see that’s how Oliver is. He makes you want so badly to believe that there is so much more hope in this world then you can see. I think that’s what I like most about him.