chapter six

Warning: if you're weirded out by kissing scenes, maybe skip the first part? It's only a paragraph of description though, so no one is making babies haha.

Oliver had never regretted anything in his life.

Correction--Oliver had never regretted anything in his life except for maybe the entirety of sixth-grade. But he didn't count that, because nobody makes that look good.

But, the point was that Oliver didn't know what it felt like to feel regret, not vividly anyway. He didn't know what it felt like for that sickening feeling to churn in your chest, to brew in your gut, to wander at the back of your brain.

He didn't know what that felt like until now, that is.

Now, it hit him like a punch.

He had leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a bruising kiss, conveying the bitterness and anger that he'd felt. As soon as he had done it, guilt sank into his chest, but he didn't back away. He had turned the girl around and backed her into the wall as her hands found the hem of his shirt. Swiftly, she had pulled his shirt off, chucking it to the side, the kiss never breaking. As her hands roamed his chest, his hands planted on her waist, Oliver only could think of one thing:

He hated this.

His first--and only other--kiss had been a girl in the sixth grade, which had only reaffirmed his suspicion that he wasn't straight, even back then. Hence, another reason to hate the sixth-grade.

Guilt and regret aside, Oliver felt uncomfort and panic rising up in him. This felt so, unbelievably wrong. This wasn't what he wanted--this wasn't who he wanted, not by a long shot. Hastily, Oliver drew back, breathing hard.

He forced his lips to curl into a smirk. "Proved it," he said.

He left, taking his shirt with him.

***

Much like the ride there, the ride home was awkward, only worse.

The bonfire left him smelling like sea salt and ash. Holden was drunk and acting like a fucking toddler; Nico was sober--to Oliver's knowledge at least, because he doubted that Nico would be a rowdy drunk--but silent; Carson (surprisingly) hadn't said a word, and Oliver shifted every five seconds from the intensity of the tension. Something had changed, and he wasn't sure what it was.

"So," Holden slurred, "Oliver hooked up with a girl. Successful night, right?"

Oliver tensed. "I didn't hook up with her," he snapped.

Holden scoffed. "You went in and didn't come out for ten minutes, and when you did, you were shirtless and your lips were swollen. You totally hooked up with her."

"Shut the fuck up. I was there, you weren't."

Holden smiled woozily. "Whatever you say, Oliver."

Silence overtook the interior of the car until Carson cleared his throat. "Celia came up to us," he announced. Fucking fuck. "She said that you're planning a road trip to Maine and invited us." The way he had said it had sounded more like a question, as if he were asking for confirmation that it was, in fact, okay for them to tag along.

"She did what now?" Oliver said, not realizing that he had spoken the words aloud. As soon as they had slipped out of his mouth, he widened his eyes and stuttered, "I-I mean that's cool--that she, uh, did that."

Carson laughed. "It's okay, Oliver. I figured that you didn't know--Celia told me not to tell you. We're not going to go, no worries," he reassured.

"No!" Oliver shouted, running his mouth before thinking about what he was saying. "You should come! I was planning on inviting you guys anyways," he bluffed.

"Oliver, you're an incredibly bad liar."

"I am incredibly bad at a multitude of things, including lying, and while I totally wasn't planning on inviting you--or going for that matter," Oliver took a deep breath and tried his best to reign in his chaotic thoughts. "you should come." Carson glanced up at him in the rearview mirror and grinned. Oliver's heart pounded. He was the cause of that grin. The thought made him smile, too.

"Okay," Carson said, "maybe."

***

"Hey, Olly?" Carson asked.

Oliver reeled. This time, Carson didn't bother to correct himself and just looked at Oliver expectantly, having no idea to the war raging in his mind.

"Hm?" Oliver responded, a little dazed.

"About that girl..." Carson continued, not meeting anyone's eyes. He had gotten out of the car and walked Oliver to his door; Nico had silently come along.

"There's nothing going on," Oliver blurted. "We're not interested in each other or anything. Don't worry, I-"

"N-no.. uh, that's not what I.... nevermind."

"Tell me," Oliver pressed.

"It's just," Carson rubbed the back of his neck boyishly, "I didn't think that she was your type or anything..."

Oh, believe me, she's not, Oliver thought, but instead just shrugged awkwardly.

"Sorry--forget about it." Carson apologized, and this time, Oliver just nodded. "Goodnight, Olly."

"'Night, Carson," Oliver replied softly.

Oliver's eyes followed Carson as he headed back to his car. Once he had finally torn his eyes off of him, he realized that Nico had hung back.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

"Why'd you kiss that girl?" Nico asked, surprisingly gentle and straight to the point.

Oliver looked away. "Why not?"

"Because you like Carson," Nico answered, matter-of-factly.

Oliver's heart froze. Anxiety blossomed in his chest as his palms began to sweat. He licked his lips, wiping his hands on his jeans. Trying to keep his voice steady, he asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Oliver, come on. I'm gay--I have a boyfriend. You look at Carson like I look at Nicky. Like a total goner. I can tell, and frankly, I'm surprised no one else can."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Oliver replied, his mouth beginning to dry.

Nico leaned in and gave him a semblance of a smile, patting his back. "I've been there. We all have. There's nothing to be ashamed of, though. Remember that."

***

Oliver hadn't slept for two nights.

Well, that was overdramatic--he had, but he'd always felt restless and tired in the morning. He would close his eyes and dream of the things that scared him the most, and then he would wake up and be face-to-face with them in reality.

It didn't help that he had just gotten into a car with Celia--who he hadn't talked to since that one interaction in the hospital that went swimmingly--Holden, Nico, and Carson fucking Katsaros. It certainly didn't help that he was the one driving. He hated driving.

Celia had so graciously let Carson sit in the passenger's seat, and Oliver knew this was a disaster waiting to happen. He already had trouble paying attention to the road--now, it would be a miracle if he made it to Maine in one piece.

Oliver started the engine and shakily put his hands on the wheel.

"Are you okay?" Carson asked worriedly, a furrow in between his brows.

Oliver smiled tightly. "Sure. Time to go."

---

A/N: Hey guys! I know this chapter is pretty short, but it was more of a filler chapter. Sometimes you just need those chapters to put in some perspective on the story. Hope you don't mind, but I should have an update soon :)

Also, it has come to my attention that a bunch of you are from around the world, which is fucking cool. Thank you so much for reading my story, and I hope you enjoy! Next update will hopefully be on my first day of school (yikes! Wish me luck.)

Xoxo,

A Shadowhunter Wannabe,

herondaledevices <3