30: Time To Go!

The twins are leaving me. Haters.

The 23rd rolls around and the twins could not be more excited to be sleeping over at Jacob's house. Their excitement was driving me slightly insane. It was ten minute of jumping around, ten minutes of begging me to take them. Oliver wasn't here, he'd mumbled something about exercise and left. I wish he was here though, he could deal with these rascals for a while.

I'd heard mention of this Jacob kid before. It was one of the twins' friend. He was a little nerdy, but what great friend isn't?

"Can we go yet?"

I look at the clock and back to the twins. I shake my head and smile at them.

"See that clock?" I ask, pointing to the large analog clock in our living room.

They look to where I'm pointing and nod their heads enthusiastically.

"When that long hand points to the ground, then we can go."

"Points down," they whisper and then look back to me with smiles, "Okay!"

I laugh at them and ruffle their hair before letting them go off and jump around some more. If they keep this up for the twenty minutes we have left they're going to be exhausted by the party. But then again, they are young. Oh, to be prepubescent again.

I go to my room and start organizing laundry. I still doesn't feel normal to fold and put away Oliver's clothes. The smell of vanilla and teakwood is never as strong on his freshly cleaned clothes, but you could tell it was his shirt nonetheless. All the clean clothes was his which meant my batch of dirty clothes remains unwashed.

I roll my eyes and go look in my closet for something other than pajama pants and a loose sweater. I didn't exactly want to drop my brothers off looking homeless.

I grab the next best thing and throw on one of Oliver's hoodies I recently folded. It was a simple black hoodie with the words 'smile' in the top corner. Kind of ironic coming from Oliver Grey. His stone cold face would beg to differ on this smiling philosophy.

I smile at myself in the mirror and try to subtly sniff the hoodie. I don't know why I try to be stubble, no one is here with me. I think it's more like I'm trying to convince myself that I'm not purposely smelling Oliver's clothes.

After twenty minutes, right on the dot, the twins come running into my room.

"Time to go!"

I nod at them and make them put their jackets on before they each grab their stuff for the night and we start our walk to Jacob's house. Jacob an his family live in a middle class neighborhood filled with classic wraparound porches. Thankfully, their house was only a fifteen minute walk away. We've done double that just for movie night snacks. We're dedicated when it comes to food.

"Are you boys excited?"

They shake their heads eagerly and start skipping down the street. Their backpacks slow them down a little but I can tell they're trying to get to Jacob's house as soon as possible.

When we finally arrive, Jacob's mom opens the door before I get a chance to knock. Not to call her a stalker or anything, but she was ready. She lets the boys in with a smile, telling them where to leave their stuff and where everyone else is. Then, she turns to me with a smile.

"I'm glad they're here! Pick-up time is 10am."

"I'll see you then!", I nod and start making my way back to the sidewalk.

"Tell your parents Merry Christmas!" She yells before she closes the door.

I roll my eyes at her slight ignorance but don't let it bother me. I'm sure my parents will love to hear all about Jacob's mom's warm wishes for the holidays.

When I make it back home I collapse onto my bed. The comforter brings me some warmth and I just lay there for a couple of minutes. Once I've regained some heat after walking in the cold, I stand up and start making my way to the living room. I catch my reflection in the mirror and that stops me in my tracks.

I look at myself from far away first. My leggings grabbed on to my recently shaved legs. My hair was voluminous and curly. I walk up to the mirror to get a closer look at myself.

There were small bags under my eyes, something to be expected since I waited up for Oliver every night he went out. But the bags aren't as bad as they had been three years ago or even when my mother was alive.

I bring my hand up to touch right under my eye and smile at myself. My cheeks are rosy from the cold and my eyes are shining even though it was dark. I look genuinely happy, I feel genuinely happy.

My eyes drop down to my hips. I lift up Oliver's hoodie to reveal my scar that was right above my hip bone. I look at the stretch marks I have around there and smile. The scar is noticeable, but less so with the stretch marks around it.

"Your scar."

The voice startles me and makes me jump, as I pull down the hoodie to hide said scar. I turn around to catch Oliver standing at the door. He walks up to me in silence. His hand reaches out and brushes along my scar through the fabric of his hoodie. I can tell that he's resisting the urge to pull it up and examining it.

"Your scar," He repeats.

I look at him, fear building up inside of me. No one had ever seen my scar until him. He'd seen it the first day he stayed here but hadn't asked about it. I guess we were past that now, him catching me staring at it would probably make him curious as it would me.

I breathe out, a long breath, and look away from his eyes. I don't think I could get through this and stare at his mesmerizing blue eyes at the same time. He held too much power in his gaze, I could break if he wanted me to.

So, I walk to my bed and sit down on the edge. I wait for Oliver to follow suit and when he's settled down beside me, I begin.

"It was self-inflicted," I whisper out.

He doesn't say anything and I refuse to look at him and see what terrified expression he has on his face. So, I just keep going, keep telling my untold story. I tell him what I went through three years ago when my mother said goodbye for the first and last time.

"It'd been a couple months of me having to take care of the twins, alone," I could feel my hands getting sweatier the more I spoke, "They were at a sleepover so it was the first time I was by myself. And, and."

I stutter, trying to get the next words out would be the hardest thing to do. I keep my gaze down and feel the heat of my tears.

"And I had so much pain, I had to let it out."

The tears start rolling down my face and I can't help the loud hiccups that come out. I must look like a mess, but if Oliver thinks so, he doesn't say anything. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all.

I force myself to look at him and his eyes are glassy even though the rest of his face looks stone cold as always.

He leans forward and cups my face. His thumbs rub across my cheeks to wipe the tears away. I look up to his eyes and through my tears the vibrant blue is still noticeable. After wiping my tears, Oliver speaks up.

"You aren't alone anymore, Hazel."

My tears start falling quicker than before when I hear him call me Hazel for the first time. I always got butterflies when he called me 'Haze', he was the only one that ever did. But when my whole name came out of his lips, I felt something swell inside of me. And while I wanted to be happy and let the excitement I felt from a simple name overcome me, my tears were quicker.

"I'm not meaning to cry harder," I say through tears and sniffles and short breaths, "I swear."

I try to wipe my own tears with the back of my hand. The wiping was staring to irritate my skin since I had to keep drying as more and more tears escaped. Oliver stops me by grabbing my hands and looking into my eyes.

"You're allowed to cry."

Oliver wraps his arms around me and brings my head to his chest. I wrap my own arms around him and relax into him. I let the smell of vanilla and teakwood fill my senses. I grab his shirt with my hand, balling it up in a fist.

I will not be weak, not like my mother. I will not fall down from the happy pedestal I was on just moments ago.

I sniffle a couple of times before untangling myself from Oliver and looking up into his eyes. His lip twitches up just for a second. He brings his hands back to cup my face and wipes away the tears once again with his thumbs.

I look up to him and give him a small smile. We stare at each other for a while. Neither of us move nor speak. We just stare. I force myself not to look at his lips right now. I'm in my most vulnerable state and all I can think of is his lips crashing onto mine in an empty house.

I need Jesus.

And that's when I break the silence and let a chuckle escape my lips. Oliver's eyes widen a little at the sound I make and it seems like they brighten up.

"That's my hoodie," Oliver states, letting go of my face and looking down at the hoodie I'm wearing.

"Not anymore," I give him a sly smile.

Oliver looks at me for a second. He looks like he wants to say something or do something, but he shakes his head and looks into my eyes. A smile plays on his lips.

"Looks better on you."