Chapter 2- Oliver
“Hey, I apologize for the inconvenience, but do you know where the counselor’s office is?”
Her voice cracks as she bites her lip, and all I can think about is how soft she sounds — how pretty her face is, how her big brown eyes shine like they’re holding entire galaxies. She looks nervous, like she’s trying to hold herself together with nothing but hope and a backpack strap.
For a second, I forget how to breathe.
“Downstairs. To the right.”
The words come out flat. Almost cold. I turn away too fast, heat rushing to my face. My chest tightens. God, I’m such an idiot. A jerk. A socially incompetent mess. She looked vulnerable, and I couldn’t even look her in the eyes.
I hear her footsteps fade behind me, light and hesitant, and something in my chest twists.
Josh appears beside me with a smirk. “Nothing has to be said, man. I know you could’ve done better.”
I drop my gaze to the floor, jaw tight.
“C’mon, dude. You don’t even know her name. Don’t worry about it,” Josh says, nudging my shoulder like this is all some joke.
But my mind won’t slow down. It keeps replaying the moment — her voice, her eyes, the faint scent of lavender that lingered when she stepped closer — and how I acted like an inconsiderate, rude asshole.
“Natalie killed your confidence,” Josh says, louder than necessary.
I flinch. “No excuses need to be made,” I mutter.
And the worst part is… he’s right.
One year ago
Josh: Oliver, can we meet up?
Me: What’s up, man? Of course. Is everything okay?
Josh: There’s something you should know. I’d rather tell you in person.
Me: Grand Park. 7 p.m.?
Josh: See you there.
The sky was painted in somber hues of deep purple and blue as I walked through the park. The air felt heavy, like the world already knew what was coming. Kids’ laughter echoed faintly from the swings, but even that sounded distant, muffled.
Josh sat on a bench near the playground, head down, shoulders tense. He didn’t look up when I approached. My stomach dropped.
“Hey, brother. Everything okay?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not quite, man. I saw Natalie and Asher making out at the basketball game.”
My heart stopped. “That’s not true. Natalie’s out of town,” I shouted, anger and panic mixing in my throat.
But then he showed me the picture.
And the video.
The sky was painted in somber hues of deep purple and blue as I walked through the park. Everything felt muted, heavy. Josh sat on a bench near the playground, head down, shoulders tense. Something was wrong — I could feel it.
“Hey, brother. Everything okay?” I asked.
He sighed. “Not quite, man. I saw Natalie and Asher making out at the basketball game.”
“That’s not true. Natalie’s out of town,” I shouted.
But then he showed me the picture. And the video.
My heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. After that, I couldn’t be with anyone. Couldn’t even think about trusting someone again. My mind just… shut down.
Every memory I have from Natalie breaks my heart. I still wonder what I did wrong to deserve that.
And then today — the new girl.
Something shifted.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her eyes. It was almost like they hypnotized me. Why am I feeling like this?
Is this normal?
Her hands in his hair.
His arms around her waist.
Her smile — the one she used to save for me.
My heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. I remember the sound of my own breathing, sharp and uneven, like I was drowning in open air. Josh kept talking, saying he was sorry, saying he didn’t want me to find out from someone else, but his voice felt far away.
After that, I couldn’t be with anyone. Couldn’t even think about trusting someone again. My mind just… shut down. Every memory I have from Natalie breaks my heart. I still wonder what I did wrong to deserve that.
And then today — the new girl.
Something shifted.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her eyes. It was almost like they hypnotized me. Like they saw straight through the walls I’ve spent a year building. Why am I feeling like this? Is this normal?
As she walks away, a breeze lifts her long, shiny hair, letting it float around her. She tucks a strand behind her ear, and for a moment, she looks so soft, so unsure, that something inside me aches.
Damn. She is exactly what perfection looks like.
Of course I had to ruin it by being a complete jackass.
Wait — ruin what?
There was nothing going on.
But my chest still feels tight, and my thoughts won’t settle. My hands are still warm from the moment she stood close enough for me to smell her shampoo. My mind keeps replaying the way her voice trembled when she asked for help.
Something about her got under my skin… and I don’t know what to do with that.