46: I'll Do Better Next Time

February is never ending. Eternal.

For being the shortest month of the year, February sure has a way of lasting lo no se than it should. Especially this year, stupid leap year. Have to deal with it for a day longer than normal. I wish I could just delete February from the calendar. It sure would make my life much easier. And all those single people would love me for deleting Valentine's day off the calendar too. Queen of the Singles has a nice ring to it.

"It's almost time, you know."

"Oh, I know, Levi."

He gives me a smile and shakes his head.

"What're you gonna do?"

"Make an excuse for myself to wallow in self pity, just like any year."

Levi laughs, brining his coffee up to take a sip. I hold mine in my hands, letting it cool down a little but warming my hands up at the same time. Levi and I went out on a little afternoon escapade for a couple of hours. Since he's started dating Emma, and honestly, since Oliver has lived on my couch, we haven't seen as much of each other. The weekends are perfect for a little game of catch up.

"How are you and Emma?"

"Alright," Levi smiles, "Change the subject."

I roll my eyes, ignoring him so he'll answer my question, and yes, ultimately change the subject. I didn't want to think of that day, it's enough I have to deal with it every year. Why couldn't she have waited until it was a leap year so I only had to suffer once every four years? Ha, to be so lucky.

"We're good," Levi answers, "We're going to that cute little Italian restaurant tonight. Oh, she met my parents the other day, she came over for dinner. They love her."

I laugh, "Of course they do, she more nerd than you are."

"Hey, don't call my girlfriend a nerd," He tries to get mad, but after a pause he speaks up again, "No, you're right."

"How long did you guys talk about Star Wars for?"

"All of dessert. She's team C-3PO unlike my dad that's team R2-D2. Shots were almost fired."

I start laughing at what I can only imagine to be a crazy conversation between Emma and Levi's dad. They're both very passionate about their stances when it comes to Star Wars. I once said Chewbacca was only comical relief and Levi's dad almost kicked me out. Thankfully, Levi's mom is sane and calmed her husband down. Emma, on the other hand, stole my fries for that comment.

"I missed that! Such a shame."

He smiles to me and shakes his head, "No, you don't. You should be glad the twins are too young to watch Star Wars."

The twins are home Oliver, which I'm a bit nervous about. This is the first time I've let Oliver take care of the twins alone. Sure, he's proven himself time and time again that he can handle the twins. Hell, they love Oliver. But he's still never had a little sibling he's had to take care off. And now, the three of them were alone in the house.

Oliver had offered to stay with them so that I could go out with Oliver. Said he wanted some quality time with them, whatever that means. I'm more surprised Oliver Grey has nothing to do on a Saturday afternoon. But I brush off my worries and try to relax and enjoy my time with Levi.

"You're worried."

I try to hide my face behind my mug, shaking my head in the processes.

"No, I'm not."

"You're literally hiding your feelings behind your coffee."

I roll my eyes and lower the mug back down, setting it on the table between us. Levi is looking at me with a smirk and raised eyebrows, a 'I know you' look. He waits for me to speak up, give in and say yes, that deep down I am worried even if I don't want to be.

"I've only ever left them with Sarah or you if I really have to. So yes, one could say I'm worried."

"Oliver has proved himself," Levi tries to be reassuring, "And if he sucks, you have an excuse to kick him out."

I shrug and give him a halfhearted laugh, "I don't really want to kick him out, that's why I'm worried."

Levi sets his coffee down and locks eyes with me so that he can have my full attention. He has a soft, knowing smile on his face.

"He won't fail, Hazel. I don't think he could let you down even if he wanted to," He tells me without any sarcasm or humor, he's fully serious, a rare thing from Levi.

My hand goes up to the silver chain. I twist it between my fingers, letting my nervousness and anxiousness leave. I never figured out what Grayson meant by the emerald being Oliver's mom's birthstone. Just a crazy coincidence, I guess. I turn the necklace around and touch the clasp with the emerald.

"You're right, you're right," I pick my coffee back up, "Oliver's fine."

Oliver was not fine.

I get home and find my kitchen in complete chaos. There's flour everywhere, dirty plates scattered around, and three boys covered in food. Seems like someone had too much fun. There's a stick of butter stuck on the floor behind them and shredded cheese all over. This looks like the leftovers of a food fight.

"What happened?" I look around the kitchen, still trying to process the mess.

"Well," Oliver speaks up, "It started off as us trying to make pasta from scratch for dinner."

"Food fight!" Ben yells beside Oliver.

My eyes widen as I look to Ben. He must have gotten an egg cracked on the top of his head chase there was dried egg whites dripping from his hair and down his face. I look to the other side of Oliver, where Braden stand. He's holding the bag of almost empty flour in his hands. Oliver's white jeans tell me he was the target. Both their eyes, Braden and Ben's, are filled with fear as to what I'm going to say.

"Okay," I look back to Oliver, "We all clean up, and then you two go shower while Oliver and I make dinner. Deal?"

The twins nod their heads, surprised they aren't in trouble. Oliver gives me a weak smile and a singular nod. He walks up to me while to twins start picking up what they can from the floor.

"I didn't do well, did I?"

I give him an amused smile, "You did better than I thought."

Oliver closes his eyes and sighs, brushing his fingers through his hair. When he opens them up again, they land on my own eyes.

"I'll do better next time."

There's a tug at my heart when he says those words. I thought that by now Oliver Grey would be a distant memory for this house. If our crazy living dynamic wasn't enough, maybe my terrible parents. If not that, he's been dealing with me for quite a while, and then there's the twins that are handful all on their own. But no, Oliver wants a next time. He wants to try again.

"You'll get it one day, plus, I thought you didn't cook," I remember from Thanksgiving.

"I don't."

"Then why even try?"

"Surprise?"

The four us are able to clean up, but it takes us about two hours to do so. Once we're done, I send the twins to go shower. Oliver turns to me, his eyes droopy from taking care of the twins and then cleaning up the mess that came along with it. I step up to him and bring my thumb to sweep under his eyes, across his bags.

"You're tired."

"You are too," He sweeps his thumb like I just had.

I smile and tilt my head towards his hand, leaning on it slightly. Oliver's almost emotionless face changes to have a light smile on it. I close my eyes as I lean closer to him, closer to his lips. Oliver leans forward too, bringing his other hand to the small if my back do that he can keep me this close.

Oliver pulls me up to him, making me go up to my tiptoed so I can reach him. He stops, centimeters away from my face, his eyes searching my face, taking it all in.

Oliver's hands fall down to my thighs so that he can lift me up onto the recently cleaned counter. He sets me down it and spreads my legs so that he can fit in between. Oliver's hand tun up my thighs and settle on my hips, gripping them tenderly. I moan into the kiss as he moves his hands, opening my mouth. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, starting a dance with mine.

My hands hide in his hair, tangling up with his curls. He groans as I pull down lightly, his grip tightening around my hips. I squeeze my legs around his, pushing harder against him.

"Hazel, Braden says we're out of shampoo," Ben's voice resounds through the hall followed by his footsteps on the wooden floor.

Oliver steps away quickly, pulling apart from our kiss. Oliver licks his lips, his stone cold face back on as he looks at me. Ben appears in the kitchen, his face confused as to why he finds me sitting on the counter. It's something I never let them do. But I'm usually cooking when they want to sit up here.

"Shampoo? There's some under the sink."

Ben nods and walks off, yelling at Braden that he needs to check under the sink. Oliver turns back to me, walking up to me but not between my legs like before. He places his hands on my waist, giving my forehead a quick kiss, before lifting me and setting me back down to the floor.

"Could've done that myself, you know."

"No," Oliver breathes out.

He walks to the cupboard and starts taking out everything to set the table for dinner. I let him do his thing as I start prepping for dinner. Oliver and I fall back into our rhythm. This is usually how our nights go. I cook while he sets the table, we enjoy each other's silence or we have some light banter between us. The twins are usually playing or showering and they show up for dinner when called. It was a nice rhythm, a repeating pattern I enjoyed. A pattern that was good for the twins.

After dinner and a quick game of Uno, I send the boys to bed. I tuck them in tight and Oliver and I scare away the shadow monsters together as we always do. Two shadow monster catchers has proven more successful than one.

I look around my room in silence. I'm not looking for anything specifically, just admiring the room. It used to be my mother's room, I would sleep in twins room and the twins used to sleep in what is now the living room. All their toys lived out there, so they did too. Mom would always lock herself in the room every night. She cried every, begging my father to come back. I don't know what she thought, that somehow he would come back a gentleman. He never was one to begin with.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist, rocking me side to side. My back pressed up against a chest. Oliver spins me around so we're facing each other, his blue eyes shining.

"You going out tonight?" I ask him.

He shakes his head, his arms dropping a little so that they rest on my hips instead of my lower back. I let my hands wrap around his arms, close go his elbows.

"I know what's coming up," He tells me.

I look away, towards the bed that used to be my mother's. The blanket at the bottom of the bed used to be hers. It was a gift for her 19th birthday, the one I have coming up in less than a month. Her mother had given it to her since she always complained about cold. He excuse was low blood pressure, I think she just never learned the art of layering.

"Haze, that day is filled with bad memories," Oliver continues, obviously going somewhere with this speech of his, "Why don't you rewrite some of them."

I take my eyes off the bed and lock eyes with Oliver again. My eyebrows are furrowed in confusion as I try to comprehend his words. He must notice I don't understand what he means and goes on to explain.

"Create good memories on that day, rewrite the bad ones."

Oliver knew I didn't exactly like how my parents, for lack of a better term, left things. They up and left us, one way or another, to fend for ourselves. I was 15 when it all happened, now I'm going to 19. And while it feels like it's gotten easier, the boys are only in third grade, there's so much life left for them. I guess I do too.

I had plans before they all got cancelled for 'Take care of your brothers'. I wanted to go to college, get a degree in engineering, be successful. All that is put on hold while I take care of them. I don't even know why I applied to the university up in the city, it was one of the best in the state, but I couldn't afford it even I got a full ride.

I nod at Oliver's idea, maybe I could rewrite all the ugliness and sadness and darkness that looms over February 28th.

"Rewrite memories," I whisper back to him.

He nods, "Therapeutic, like you did with the cemetery."

"When we visited your mom?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"Yeah, it was the first time I talked to her about something other than my life falling apart."

I smile up at him. I want to as what he talked about, what other subject compelled him to talk to his mom. But, I don't want to push my luck of him opening up to me, I don't want to push to far.

"You aren't gonna ask what?" Oliver asks me.

"I want to, but I don't want to force you."

He nods and stay silent for a while. We stare at each other for a couple of second which feel more like minutes to me. Oliver let's go of me and walks to the couch, sliding his shirt off and staying just his sweatpants. I stare at him the whole time, slightly disappointed he didn't share. His back is to me, like it always seems to be at night, when he speaks up again.

"You, Haze."

My mouth drops when he says that. Oliver Grey spoke to his mom about me. I find it funny that that was the same day I talked to my mom for the first time since she's been buried in that cemetery. Although it's something I am never doing again, I actually talked to my mother about Oliver that day. How long have I been crushing, nay, liking Oliver Grey?