CHAPTER THREE
When Oliver came back to his grandparents’ house, he was careful to quietly open and close the door so as not to wake anyone up.
“Oliver. Where were you?” a voice spoke from the living room. The voice was stern, yet forced.
He had forgotten about them, and could feel his face drop to the floor as he turned to see Laura and his father sitting together on the couch, his father’s hand placed on Laura’s knee.
“Out with Amir. I’m going to bed.” He started to climb the stairs.
Laura spoke up, “No, no you’re not. You’re going to sit there and tell to your father why you refuse to receive an education from one of the country’s finest schools. He worked so hard to get you a spot in such a competitive school.” One of Laura’s long skinny fingers was pointing at the recliner. Frowning, Oliver slowly sat and looked down at the plate of cookies on his lap.
Time passed, and Laura became impatient, waiting for his response. “Speak up, I’d love to know why you think it’s okay for your father to waste so much time and effort on you.”
Oliver waited to answer, letting all of his immediate angry and somewhat incoherent responses to fizzle out. “He wouldn’t have had to waste his time if I was given the choice about it earlier.”
Laura snorted. “‘Choice’? You don’t have a choice, Oliver. You’re going to Ralfour Academy no matter what. We just think that it’s rude for you to be so ungrateful about it when your father spent all of this time and money to get you in.”
He clenched his hands tightly. “I don’t have a choice with my own life?”
Laura smoothed out her skirt with her hands. “Your father and I know what’s best for you Oliver. You do not. You’re just a kid. A kid that thinks he’ll make a living off of silly drawings.”
He wanted to laugh at this ridiculousness. He just couldn’t believe that it was happening to him. That was it. He got up from the recliner and climbed up the stairs to his room, despite them calling out for him to come back. Locking the door behind him, he set the cookies on his desk and flopped down onto his bed, shoving his face into his pillow. He was not going to leave that room. He was staying in Massachusetts with Amir, his Grandma, and his Grandpa. Massachusetts sounded so much better than Jefferson High in Maryland, and obviously better than that Ralfour Academy school in New York.
That night, he dreamed of the beach. He was searching for seashells on the shore but out of curiosity he followed a small hermit crab to an enormous cave. The cave was dank and there was an ominous dripping sound. Although scared, he kept walking, until he saw the shimmer of a light. Following the light, he found a crevice in the cave that hid an ornate wooden box. His finger trailed along the carved drawings. Opening the golden latch, he found a beating heart. Frightened, he was about to throw it to the ground, but something made him stop. Instead he closed the box carefully and hid the heart back where he had found it. As he walked away from the cave, however, his own heart began to throb until he was doubled over in pain.
When he woke, he could hear birds chirping outside of his window. The sun’s rays sprawled across the sheets of his bed. He lay in bed for a while, but his stomach started to growl. He debated whether or not to go downstairs to get breakfast, unsure if he should risk it.
Slowly, he opened the door, looked both ways and when he saw that the coast was clear he stole down the staircase. Quickly, he popped some bread into the toaster and grabbed what he could find in the kitchen; an apple and a banana. He poured himself a glass of orange juice. Just as the toaster dinged, the front door opened. Panicking, he reached for the toast but burned his finger. Retracting in pain, he sucked his index finger and decided instead to just take the fruit and juice and ditch. As he made a break for the steps, a hand reached out and stopped him.
“Not so fast.”
He sighed, turning to face Laura, whom was smiling through pursed lips as usual.
“We’re leaving on Monday. You’d better start packing,” was all that she said. She left to enter the kitchen.
He exhaled, glad that she wasn’t scolding him for last night. But then her voice rang out, “you left your toast in the toaster. Did you expect me to clean up after you?”
Groaning, he came in to the kitchen for his toast. As he placed it on a napkin, his stepmom asked if he wanted jelly. Confused by the seemingly kind offer, he said nothing, but she put grape jelly and a knife on the counter for him. As he started to spread the jelly on the bread, he quickly realized her scheme.
“That was rude of you, last night. Very disrespectful,” she said under her breath. He pretended not to have heard her, continuing to spread jelly on his toast. When she realized that he wasn’t going to respond she went on. “Alright, listen up.” She put her hands onto the counter, leaning in to stare at him with her steely blue eyes. “I have put up with you for three years. Finally, I have a chance to have some peace at home for both your father and I. You won’t ruin this for us.”
He frowned, “You’ve ‘put up with me’? What is that supposed to mean? I’m practically silent whenever I’m at home and I barely talk to you.”
“No, Oliver, you’re always walking about the house, eating all of our food, asking your father for money. You never thank me for the food that I have the chef make you.”
He put his knife in the sink, saying “I thank the cook, she’s more of a mother figure than you are anyway. You’re just some young whore who married my father to feed your diamond addiction.”
Before she could reply, he briskly left the kitchen, running up the stairs, and slammed and locked the bedroom door yet again.
It took her a second to process what he had said, but once she did, she wanted to make sure that he knew she wasn’t happy about it. “OLIVER!” She shouted from downstairs in a shrill and high-pitched voice. Less than a minute after, his father was at the door, pounding his fists on the wood, threatening to break it down. Oliver knew he wouldn’t though, and kept silent until his father left to return to his whining wife, who then proceeded to openly complain about Oliver for the next half hour.
The day went by slowly, he didn’t dare leave his room. It was worth it though, he just wished that he could see Laura’s face once she had realized what he said. It must have been absolutely priceless. Amir had been texting him, but he still didn’t have anything to do, other than constantly refresh the page of a social network.
Eventually, his phone rang with a number that wasn’t saved in his contacts but had the local area code number. “Hello?”
“Hello,” her voice was familiar, it was soft and almost musical. When he realized who it was, Oliver immediately lost his voice. After a pause, she asked, “Oliver?”
Oliver cleared his throat. “Y-yeah. Hi, Mona.”
“Hi.” The way she said it, he could just picture her flashing a smile.
“H-how did you get my number?”
“Amir,” she replied. “How are you?”
“I- I’m good,” he stuttered. “You?”
“Well, I’ve been better, Oliver. To tell you the truth.”
“Oh... what’s the matter?” Oliver still couldn’t process the fact that Mona had called him. He remembered telling himself that he didn’t care about her anymore, but he also knew that that had been a lie.
“Can I meet you somewhere?” she asked.
“Yeah, anywhere!” He coughed, “…I mean, sure.”
“Alright, how about the park in about a half hour? Meet you at the wishing well.”
“Okay.” Oliver could feel his palms getting sweaty. “I’ll meet you there then.”
“See you then.” She hung up.
“Okay,” Oliver repeated.
There he was, driving to meet Mona, at the wishing well. His grandmother had once told him how legend had it that anything could happen at the wishing well. Anything at all, no matter how unimaginable. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. They were starting to sweat and his breathing was becoming heavier. He tried to shake the nerves. He didn’t know what it was, but something about her just made him so nervous.
Once he reached the park, he got out of the mustang and walked the narrow path cut into the woods that led to the well. The tree branches were starting to grow wild, covering parts of the path, causing him to have to push them away to continue walking. He trudged through the path for what seemed like hours, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. Then, finally, he reached a clearing in the woods. Sitting upon a single bench, sat this beautiful girl, even more beautiful with the light of the day shining on her face. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun to show her soft neck, she wore a flowery dress and wasn’t wearing shoes.
“Hello, Oliver.” Her voice was oddly calm in contrast to the very intense look on her face. He knew that the look wasn’t directed to him, but he wondered what was going through her mind. She got up from the bench to rest her back on the ledge of the wishing well. “Do you have any pennies?”
Oliver dug around in his pockets and produced two pennies, one he gave to Mona, while the other he kept in his hand. She then closed her eyes, put the penny to her lips and squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. Then, she threw the penny into the water. It made a low “plop” sound as it reached the water of the well. She looked at Oliver, surprised that he hadn’t thrown his own penny yet. He quickly made a wish and threw the penny into the well to meet Mona’s.
They stood in silence for a few minutes. Her enormous green eyes looking into his brown ones. There was so much sadness in hers, but yet there was something so familiar about them. And, although he couldn’t read what she was thinking, something about those glistening emerald eyes made him feel as if he had known her forever. Neither of them broke the gaze. Finally, however, Mona looked away to the surrounding trees. A single tear rolling down her cheek. The salty drop seemed so out of place on her confident skin. Without even thinking, Oliver grabbed her up into a hug and held her tight. He wanted nothing more than to be there for her in that moment. To rid her of whatever fear or sadness was tormenting her.
After what seemed like hours had passed, she broke from his grasp and looked back into his eyes. “Let’s run away, Oliver.”
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