chapter nineteen

Quite frankly, Oliver wasn't sure if he regretted anything. It wasn't his fault. He walked out. What else was he supposed to do? Stay still while Carson was accusing him of withholding information and every kid in their high school watched along?

Plus, was it really withholding information if it wasn't even information that mattered? So what if he didn't tell Carson about Kale? So what if he didn't tell him about a dumb mistake he made when he was younger? So what if he didn't know about his family?

Why did he need to know?

Oliver had always gotten used to keeping this information to himself. There were never people that had gotten this close, never people that wanted to know this much about him. Celia didn't. She didn't care much about his family or his past or his name. After everything she'd done, Oliver was doubting if she even cared about him at all.

But now, he had met someone who did care about all that, and Oliver didn't see the point of it. Did it really matter what name he went by? Who his siblings were? What his favorite pastime was? That was all superficial knowledge, and for the life of him, Oliver couldn't figure out why it mattered so much.

A knock shook him out of his thoughts.

"Come in," Oliver announced, only for Kale to walk into the room. He gave Oliver a small, unsure smile. "What're you doing here?" he asked.

"Came to see you. We haven't talked much, at all."

"Yeah, we haven't," Oliver echoed. "What'd you wanna talk about?"

"Family."

"What about family?"

Kale sighed. "I feel guilty. Ellie and I, we came here and we totally invaded your home and everything and-"

"It's cool, okay? I mean, we don't exactly see eye to eye but... well, if my mom took you in happily, a woman who's not even your birth mother--and you know her, she finds a reason to get pissed at anything--then why can't I? I guess I've just blamed myself as much as you've blamed me."

"No, no, Dom, no," Kale said, "I'm the older one. I'm supposed to be more mature. The truth is, you have nothing to do with anything. It all happened before you were even born, for fuck's sake. But the way I saw it--through all the anger that was instilled in me by my mom--it was your family's fault. The way I saw it, we would always be separated. It would always be you before us. But it's not like that, is it? I mean, your family took us in without a problem. They're not mad at us, we were just mad at them." Kale sighed. "You know... maybe we were the problem. We were holding all that anger and... I don't know."

Oliver kept quiet, not knowing what to say.

"My mom's back," Kale blurted out. "So's her idiot of a boyfriend. I didn't think they'd be back so soon."

"What're you going to do?"

"I don't wanna go back. Ellie deserves better than me having to explain every couple of weeks where mommy and daddy are. But I don't know if I have a choice. It's not like I have any money for an apartment or anything. Plus, what am I supposed to do? Get custody or something? Yeah, right. All of that's too messy. Lawyers and arguments and years of headaches. I don't have the time or the means for that."

"You can always stay here," Oliver offered tentatively. "There'll be a place for you," he said, trying to comfort the man that he'd never really known that well.

Kale let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Dom." He looked down at his hands before looking back up. "You know, I'm glad we had this talk."

"Don't make it weird, dickhead."

"Shut the fuck up, asshole."

***

Carson was playing.

It had been a little while since he'd touched his violin for fun, but today he felt an aching in him that longed to be let out. He often turned to music then. Swimming was great and everything, but if he left his outpour of emotions to swimming, then he would end up with a sore shoulder.

Music was harmless.

He enjoyed hearing the hum of the notes as he played a quiet passage, the notes melodic and lilting or dark and romantic. He enjoyed hearing a powerful crescendo, the sound big and breathtaking. He enjoyed the sound of a diminuendo, the sound tentative, like it was hovering in the air.

It was his safe place.

And now, Carson figured, he needed a safe place. Oliver had walked out on him. There was a bit of bitterness that came with the realization. He was the person that had to adapt the most, after all. Oliver was used to all this--being with guys--and yet he was the one who backed away the most.

Besides, Carson had been right. Part of being in a relationship was getting to know one another, and it seemed as if Oliver had no interest in letting Carson get to know him. What did Carson really know about him, anyway?

Oliver knew about his pastimes--that he liked swimming and playing the violin and being social. He knew that Carson had a sister--he had even invited him to meet his whole family--all because Carson had wanted him to. He had wanted for Oliver to get to know him. The one time Carson had met Oliver's family was completely unbeknownst to Oliver himself, and he didn't seem like he'd enjoyed it, either.

What was the point in being on two completely different pages? What did Oliver even want from him? It was as if, as if-

-as if he liked the idea of a relationship with Carson Katsaros more than actually contributing to one.

But Carson wasn't just a fantasy. He refused to be one. He was a person, made of flesh and bone and blood, and why was it his fault if he wanted a flesh and bone and blood boyfriend? Why did he have to put up with a mystery? What if he wanted more?

And, more importantly, what if Oliver didn't?

***

"Oliver, go."

"No way."

"Oliver, I swear to you, if you don't march over to his house right this second-"

"Celia, enough!" Oliver shouted. "Why do I have to be the one that goes back, anyway?"

Celia pressed her lips together thinly. "Because, you idiot, you're the one that walked away."

"So?"

"So, you're the one that has to fix this."

"I think that you're the one that has to fix this," Oliver said, seething.

"Me?"

"Yes, fucking you. You're the one that causes all these fucking problems. You keep pushing me to do these things, Celia, and I have no say in any of it! You pushed me into a pool, outed me to my mom, exposed my criminal record--and that's only what I can think of now. This is all your fault because you cause my life to be miserable." Oliver was panting by the end of it, rage dripping off of his every word.

Celia looked small, smaller than Oliver had ever seen her before. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it. Sorry doesn't mean shit. You keep ruining my life and expecting me to be okay with it."

Silence.

Celia sniffled. Oliver felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that he had made her cry, but he didn't back down. "I-" she started, but stopped when she wiped her watering eyes. "I- okay, listen. I know I can be a bitch."

Oliver scoffed.

"Okay, fine, I know I'm always a bitch. I know I always drag you into trouble and make you reckless and I know that I ruin your life and I have no idea why you're still friends with me anyway. I know this. But... that's why I'm trying. That's why I've been trying to help. You like him. You like Carson so much. And for once in my stupid fucking life, I didn't want to be selfish. I wanted this for you. I wanted you to be happy. I didn't want to be that girl--that freeloader--who bosses people around and takes people for granted and makes everyone miserable because trust me I know I'm that girl. You just have to know that I wanted the best for you and I wanted everything to be about you and giving you back the years of friendship that you've given me." She wiped a fallen tear off of her cheek. "But... I guess... along the way... it did become about me. It became about relieving me of my guilt and making myself feel better because I was doing something good and I just wanted this to work so badly. You have no idea how badly I wanted this for you. And I'm sorry--truly sorry, from the absolute bottom of my heart--for making this about me when it should've been about you. I'm sorry for going too far on all of it--for not taking into account what you wanted. I'm sorry for being a bitch who takes advantage of you because I never want to take advantage of you again. God, Oliver, I'm so fucking lucky to have you by my side and I'm so grateful that you're always here for me when I don't deserve it. And I promise--I swear to you--that if you decide to keep being friends with me, I will never, ever do something as fucking dumb as this ever again. Please, Oliver, what do you say?"

Oliver hadn't noticed that he was crying. He hadn't noticed the tears that were building up in his eyes until Celia had finished. He hadn't noticed that her heart was in a good place--in the best place--until now. And now, he couldn't imagine going through any of this without her.

"Of course," Oliver murmured, "Of course. You know I love you even though I can't fucking stand you." He smiled. "Of course," he repeated again. "you and me, Celia."

Celia sniffled once again, wiping away any evidence of her tear-stained cheeks. "I love you too."

"But," Oliver said, and saw Celia's face fall. "I can't go to Carson's house." He sighed. "I don't know what I would say to him."

Celia's gaze was soft, the softest he had ever seen of her. "Don't plan it out. I mean, I didn't say all of that with a script in hand," she laughed. "Just go and let the words come to you."

"Easy for you to say," Oliver answered. "you aced our philosophy unit."

Celia laughed. "It'll be okay, Oliver. But just know that if you screw this up then I'm going to be on Carson's side during the breakup." She grinned. "His mom is such a good cook."

***

The door opened. "Oliver?" Carson asked, shocked.

Oliver smiled weakly. "Yeah...it's me."

Carson looked behind him to check if the coast was clear before waving him in. "Come on in."

Oliver hesitantly entered, an undecipherable feeling stirring inside of him. "Thanks," he said awkwardly. Carson walked to his living room while Oliver followed behind, both of them standing around awkwardly. Silence hung in the air before Oliver, antsy and nervous, had to break it. "So...what's up?"

Carson raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who came to my house."

Oliver nodded. "Right. Well, you know, Celia wanted me to come here...but I do think we should talk."

Carson swallowed. "I agree."

Oliver made a gesture, lifting his arms up in a cue for the other boy to continue.

"Why won't you let me get to know you?" Carson blurted.

This time, Oliver swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"Oh come on, Oliver. The only reason I know things about you is because they've come to light--you don't tell me anything about yourself. Meanwhile, you've come to my practices and-"

"You know things about me too," Oliver defended. "You know that I play the guitar and that I have a half-brother and that-"

"I know you play the guitar because Celia told me, and I know about Kale because he showed up one day, remember?"

Oliver threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why is this important? Why is any of this important?"

"Why does it bother you so much?" Carson replied.

"You don't need to know these things about me Carson, they're pointless and-"

"Do you think I'm some fantasy or something?" Carson interjected.

Oliver froze. "What?"

"It's like..." He swore under this breath--something that momentarily took Oliver aback, as Carson wasn't the type to swear. "It's like you hold me on this sort of pedestal. But...but I'm not this golden boy that everyone knows me as, Olly. I'm more than that. And I know you're more than what people think of you, too. Relationships are supposed to be equal, and frankly, it's like you don't even want me to get to know you. You hide everything about yourself. It's always been about me and I don't want that."

Oliver looked down at his shoes. At the chairs. At the fireplace. Anywhere but at Carson. "Maybe I do hold you up above others. But what's wrong with that? I mean, Carson, let's be honest. You're perfect. And how-"

Carson jumped up. "But I'm not! I'm not perfect, I'm human, and I thought that you, out of all people, would understand that."

Oliver kept his gaze glued to the floor. "-And how," he continued, "am I supposed to amount to anything next to you?"

Carson opened his mouth but then closed it, and it was then that Oliver realized that this conversation wouldn't lead to anything good.

- - -

A/N: WHO'S THE WORST WRITER EVER??? THIS ONE! It's so crazy how it's literally been a month since the last update but it barely felt like anything for me. It's been a looooong month guys.

Anyways, I have an announcement. Get ready for it.

The next chapter of "Oliver Loves Carson"...

...will be the last one.

I feel like I honestly only need one more chapter to wrap up this story. And, honestly, I'm low key kind of relieved. Don't get me wrong, I love this story, but it kinda sucks when I feel guilty all the time for not updating. I'm already kind of miserable anyways with school, so I feel like this will be a weight off of my chest.

In terms of other projects, I don't know about that. I have ideas, but the thought of starting another project like this so soon after finishing this story and having to worry about updating constantly again sounds exhausting. Honestly, I'm not sure if I can do it anytime soon. But we'll see. Never say never.

Also, I'm sick. Literally. It sucks.

Also (x2) I've realized that it's kind of funny that I've written a story about relationships when I've never been in one. Is this somewhat accurate? I barely have time to breathe, much less date tbh. (Also nobody likes me lol).

But what did you guys think about this update??? Did you like it, hate it? What do you think will happen in the last (and final) chapter? Do you think it'll be good or bad? Tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, and emotions!

Just a head's up, I've had this ending planned since the beginning.

Okay, this is a long author's note. Thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed! I appreciate you all so much!

Xoxo,

A Shadowhunter Wannabe,

herondaledevices <3