The Scars on Your Heart

I looked in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. I didn't hate what I saw; I actually thought I was quite good-looking. But I hated what was inside what I saw. I took Oli's - no, Oliver's, I have no right to call him Oli anymore - feelings and threw them on the ground, stomping on them over and over again. So much that he wrote a fucking song called "Don't Go". I really hoped I didn't push him over the edge again; if he tried to kill himself - or worse, succeeded - I'd probably die from grief.

I still loved him. A whole lot. But I couldn't show it.

I spit out the foamy mixture of toothpaste and saliva and filled a paper cup with tap water, rinsing my mouth out before spitting the water back into the sink. I left the bathroom and turned the light off, feeling my way in the dark to my bed.

I was still crying, but silently now. I had no right to loudly express my hate for what I'd done. After all, I'd done it. I had to keep everything a secret. I didn't like the fact that Max and Dan were going to make Oliver "pay"; in fact, I hated it, and I hated them for even thinking of it. The only thing I didn't hate was Oliver. And now he probably hated me.

Suck it up, Josh. It's your own fucking fault.

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I slept surprisingly soundly that night, waking up just minutes before the breakfast bell. Oliver was awake and had his toothpick legs hanging over the side of the bed. I didn't speak to him, just faced forward and walked to the bathroom. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him, swinging his legs and resting his chin on the cast-hand.

I brushed my teeth and then closed the door and did my business. Once I was finished, I headed back out, where Oliver was staring at me intently. I flipped him off and rummaged through the dresser beside the bunk bed. What was I going to wear today? Oh yeah. Jeans and a t-shirt. And Oliver was going to wear his red and black jumper with either jeans or his sweatpants. I pulled out a Paramore t-shirt and some jeans, heading back into the bathroom to change. The breakfast bell rang as I was changing and you could hear the traffic outside our room in the hallway through the thick walls.

"Josh," Oliver called, and I sighed.

"What do you want, Oliver?" I had almost said 'Sykes', but that would've meant that I was completely regressed. I didn't want to give him that illusion. I thought maybe he'd pick up on my act someday before he left.

"Can you go get George for me when you leave? I need to get down."

"George is coming for you anyway. You're eating-buddies, remember?" I called back, purposefully adding a hint of sarcasm to my tone. I heard Oliver let out a deep breath.

"I forgot. Sorry." I wanted to reply but instead I ignored him. I left the bathroom with a scowl on my face. I glanced up at Oliver. He looked so sad. Yeah, he had made me angry in the moment, but I wasn't mad at him now. But because of Max, I had to pretend I was. I wanted friends but I wanted Oliver at the same time. Why did things have to be so complicated?

I pulled on my black Chuck Taylors and headed out to breakfast, passing George on the way. I wanted to talk to him and tell him to be gentle with Oliver, that he needed time to get used to all the food coming his way. But I ignored him, too.

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"Josh!" Max said with a grin as I sat down with my tray at our end of the long table. Chris and Matt and Dan were all smiling as well. "Good to see you, mate."

"Yeah. What's going on?" I asked. This was strange, usually we were all calling each other names and jokingly punching while laughing by now. The air of uneasiness around Matt and Chris kind of threw me off .

"Dan and I came up with a plan. For tomorrow." I nearly slammed my head on the table. I had forgotten that tomorrow was the Camden Markets school trip! Would they allow Oliver to go? Oh, what did it matter, I had to hang out with these guys anyway.

"What kind of plan?" I asked, taking a huge bite of a croissant and watching as George pulled Oliver into the cafeteria, seemingly by force.

Max and Dan exchanged glances. "Payback for what Oliver did to you!" Max laughed. He leaned forward, as did the rest of our little group. "Listen. Each group is going to have six people, correct? Oliver will be our sixth." Oh shit. "We'll ask the chaperone to let us go to the bathroom - hopefully more than one at a time - and we'll get Oliver in there. Sound like a plan?" A lump had formed in my throat. They were going to beat up Oliver? I couldn't allow that.

"Sure, yeah." I said before I could think of an alternative plan that would satisfy them, and I instantly regretted it.

"Awesome! We'll let you have a few punches or kicks, too. After all, you're the one he did this to." Dan piped up, and Chris and Matt simultaneously let out heavy breaths, as if they'd been holding them in for a long time. What was so wrong about being friends with Oliver? Sure, we were more than friends, but the guys didn't know that. And sure, Oliver was a little strange. But once you got used to it you really didn't mind it.

Damn, I shouldn't have reacted so badly to his weight problem. I'm such a fucking cunt.

"Josh?" Dan asked, snapping his fingers in front of my face. Only then did I realize that I was staring in Oliver's direction, who was eating extremely slowly and shaking his leg as he did so. "Why are you staring at him?"

"Just..." I started but couldn't finish. My heart was pounding in my chest and I could hear it inside my head. I felt like I was suffocating.

"Josh, seriously man, are you okay?" Max asked, throwing a piece of toast at me.

"Oliver, stop shaking your leg! I know that trick! You have to eat faster." George said quiet enough for only Oliver to hear but for some reason my sense of hearing was turned way up and tuned into their conversation.

Max's voice was loud in my ears. "Josh, stop!" He said, or shouted, I couldn't tell. My stomach was churning and I watched Oliver's eyes trail over to me. He cocked an eyebrow and put his fork down onto his plate which was loaded with food; must've been a nightmare for him. He just watched me, sadness and concern swimming in his hazel eyes and I felt my face grow hot and my vision began to blur and I couldn't think straight and even though I had just eaten a croissant all I could taste was bitter regret and the next thing I knew I was on the floor, hyperventilating and crying like a baby.

"Josh!" I heard Oliver's voice over all the others'. I couldn't see because my eyes were shut so tightly. I heard his light footsteps growing louder and louder as he ran over to me. All I could hear was him. Only Oliver, none of the other ruckus that was going on around me. "Josh, it's okay, it's okay, shhh..." He repeated calming things into my ear and occasionally grunted but never ceased. I felt myself returning to the earth when he did stop, and I opened my eyes, only to see George holding Max back and Oliver laying on the ground, out of breath. His eyes were wide and Max was shouting obscenities at him.

"Fuck you, Oliver! No one wants you around, go cry to your imaginary brother and imaginary friend, because you have no real of neither!" He wasn't making sense but it was easy to tell he was angry. I looked over at Oliver, tears still streaming down my face and my lungs still shredding themselves to pieces. He eventually took in a deep breath and sat up, rubbing his stomach. I could only assume that Max kicked him there. "You're going to die alone because you're crazy, crazier than any of us in here! You're a fuck-up, a loser, a wannabe, a fucking faggot, and a fat one at that!" I sat up and wiped the tears away from my eyes, watching the anger in Oliver's eyes turn to shame. He looked down. "That's right, don't you dare look at me! I don't need to be diseased! I want to fucking kill you!" George was trying to get him to calm down but it clearly wasn't working. Eventually two of the security guards came in and dragged the screaming Max away from the scene. Oliver collapsed back on the ground and Dan gave him a dirty look. Chris and Matt chose to stay out of it and sat calmly back in their seats. Some friends they are. More concerned with their enemy than with their "friend". Dan held out his hand to help me up but I looked up at him and shook my head.

"No." I said, and he cocked an eyebrow.

"What?"

"No. You need to get your shit together before you even think about talking to me again."

"What the fuck are you talking abo--"

"I'm talking about all of you, wanting to beat up Oliver for doing nothing but befriend me!" I shouted, and everyone who wasn't paying attention before was doing so now. George, who was helping Oliver up, looked over in shock.

"Is that true, Flint?" He asked, and Dan laughed. He was a good actor.

"What? No way! Sure, Max hates him, but he'd never do that!" I dropped my jaw. "None of us want to get in trouble. Except maybe Max, but that's a different story." He chuckled. "Josh's delusional. He just had a panic attack, for Christ's sake!" I couldn't really identify the feeling in my gut at the moment but it was a lot stronger than hate or fury.

"He's lying!" I shouted, and Oliver looked at me, still breathing heavily.

"Josh, you just had a panic attack, it's time to clear your head." George said, still holding onto Oliver. I coughed and held my arms in a "what the fuck?" manner. I slowly stood, my head swimming. Reaching for my tray, I cast a shameful glance at Dan, shaking my head. He shrugged and smiled. I really hated my friends.

I threw the contents of my tray in the trash and George led Oliver back to their table. I left the dining area and headed back up the stairs to my room to gather my school stuff. I sat at my desk, holding my head in my hands and coughing up remnants of my tears. What was I going to say to Oliver? He had actually run to my side in my moment of need. I knew how hard it was for him to run. That took a lot of effort but he did it seemingly effortlessly, just for me. He took multiple kicks to the stomach but didn't stop trying to calm me down. I owed him so much.

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The day passed with classes and therapy breaks in between, and I sat by myself at lunch. It was a bit of a bore, but I didn't deserve to sit with Oliver and Dan didn't want me in his sight. I made do.

I got - well, we got - a 100% on "Bite My Tongue", and I was super excited. Mr. Jem was even more enthusiastic about it. He counted it as both our grades because Oliver had missed class the day we turned it in. That excited Oliver, and I couldn't help but smile.

Max was let out of the safe room around dinner time and I was sitting by myself again, eating the shitty blob of marinara sauce and pasta that passed for lasagna. I poked at the peas with my fork, deciding they weren't worth it, when a shadow loomed over me. I looked up, only to see Oliver with his tray standing in front of me.

"Hello," He said with a smile. "can I sit with you?"

"Why would you want to?" Was the first thing that came out of my mouth. "I mean, I've been treating you like shit for a while. Why do you want to sit with me?"

He placed his tray on the table and sat in the chair that was situated in front of me, then leaned forward. "Because I still like you, dumbarse." He whispered with a smirk. "If I didn't like you I would've requested a room change already. I'm sorry about freaking out on you, by the way. I was really upset." His apology was sincere and I felt a pang of guilt. Even though it had only been a day, I still treated him like shit over something he couldn't really control. And I'd said bad things about him. When I had that panic attack, he was the first one to rush over and try to do something about it. He'd let Max kick him in the stomach, which no doubt hurt because he was skin and bones, and still didn't stop trying to comfort me. Even after that I didn't talk to him until now.

"It's okay, I'm sorry for being a jerk." I replied, feeling that it was not enough, but he stopped me before I said anything else.

"It's okay." He was smiling. "George let me sit over here as long as I clear my plate. I would cheat but I don't know how because he's kind of watching me." He nodded over his shoulder and waved at George, who waved back with a fake smile. When Oliver turned back around, George's face settled into his regular permanent frown. "By the way, were Max and Dan really planning on beating me up?"

"Oliver, I'm really sorry, I agreed when they said they wanted payback and I don't know-"

"Ah ah ah, Oli." He corrected me on his name and I blushed. I didn't feel I had the right to call him Oli anymore, as I said earlier. But he wanted me to. So I would. "And that's okay. When were they planning on doing it? Maybe I can soil their plan or something." He said with a giggle. I let out a sigh.

"Tomorrow. At Camden. They wanted you to be the sixth in our group and then they'd beat you up in the bathroom." I spilled the details of their plan to Oli and he cocked an eyebrow.

"Easy. I'll just ask George to be my buddy and we'll leave it at that." He said, crossing his arms. George let out a loud "AH", and when Oli turned around, pointed at the tray of food in front of him. Oli rolled his eyes and picked up his fork again. "Fuck, I hate this stuff! I hate food!" He whined, putting another mouthful of lasagna down his gullet. "My stomach hurts." He stared down at the lasagna and poked at it with his fork before putting a piece into his mouth.

"You mean you're going to go to Camden, the biggest field trip since I've been here, with him?" I pointed at George, but not enough for him to see.

"Yeah. I don't really want to get kicked in the gut again. Plus, I wasn't really looking forward to it anyway. How could he make it any worse?" Oli explained and then tilted his head to the left. "Or, I could just ask to not go."

I smirked. "Or you and I could be in a group with George." I smiled at the thought of that; having a day out of these walls with Oli. That would be fun, but it could also be disastrous. You can't go through life without taking chances, though, right?

Oli smiled. "Sounds like a plan." He said after he swallowed. "We should sit together more often. It makes this shit easier to down." He pointed at his food and laughed.

I smiled along and we finished our lasagna with only occasional sentences. The silence was comfortable, though.

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"No, stop cheating!"

"How do you cheat at I Spy?" I laughed.

"I don't know but you're doing it! You get my answer every time!" Oli whined, smiling at the same time. We were sitting on my bed and playing none other than I Spy, which was kind of hard to do when there was so little to look at. But when you open your mind, the room was full of stuff to "spy."

"Okay, my turn." I said, looking over at Oli and then back around the room. "I spy with my little eye, something that's really cute and perfect." Oli cocked an eyebrow and I smirked.

"Is it animate?" He asked, and I nodded. "Is it me?" I nodded again. He let out a giant "awwww!" and tackled me in a hug, kissing my face. I laughed and he sat up, grinning and blushing the color of a tomato.

"I still love you, you know."

"Yeah, I know, I was awake when you declared your love for me thinking that I was asleep." He said with a grin, and my eyes widened. He was awake the entire time, so he knew the entire time! Maybe that's why he didn't leave me in Max's hands when I had the panic attack, and why he sat with me. He knew the whole time.

"Oh. Well, yeah."

"I love you, too." He said with a smile, leaning forward and pecking me on the lips. I felt myself begin to blush as well. "A lot."

I smiled and wrapped my arms around his tiny frame. He reciprocated and we just sat there like that for a while.

"Oliver Sykes, you have a phone call. Oliver Sykes, you have a phone call." The intercom boomed and I let out an annoyed sigh.

"I guess you better go take that." I said with a laugh, and Oli pulled away, nodding.

"Yeah. It's probably my mum or my brother." He said, standing up and walking towards the door. He gave me a little wave of the fingers as he left and I did the same, smiling until he got out of the room and shut the door. I sighed and fell back onto my bed.

"Fuck." I muttered. I didn't know why, but I really didn't want to go to Camden the next day. I just had a bad feeling.