As he suspected, Alyce lived in a nice house. She lived in a really nice house.
Of course she's rich, Oliver thought bitterly. Her parents can afford to buy her a brand new car; why wouldn't they be able to afford this?
Alyce's home was a three story, Usonian beauty. Oliver felt a familiar twinge of jealousy. Sure, Alyce was nice. She was sweet, and his only friend, but he instantly found himself wishing to be in her place.
Alyce parked the car in her family's driveway before taking the keys out of the ignition and getting out of the car.
"Hey, you coming?" she called out to Oliver. He felt his cheeks flush. He didn't realize that he'd been sitting in her car for a while. He quickly grabbed his schoolbag and a tote with his clothes before following Alyce into the house.
She opened the door, allowing him to walk in first.
"Mom! I'm home," she called out. "She's probably in the kitchen making snacks. Are you hungry?"
Oliver barely registered that she had even spoken. He was in absolute awe. The marble floors were beautiful, the walls had intricate drawings etched into them, and the house smelled of fresh air and cookies, a far cry from the usual stench of urine and whiskey.
Alyce tugged on his arm to get him to follow her into the kitchen.
"Hey mom! I've brought over a friend. I hope you don't mind," she told her mother. Alyce's mom was slim and pretty. She had green eyes and russet-coloured hair.
Alyce must have gotten her looks from her father, Oliver surmised.
"Hello, young lad! I see my daughter has made a friend!" she beamed at him. He smiled.
"It seems so! My name is Oliver," he introduced himself.
"Paula," she said, gesturing towards herself. "My husband, Thomas, should be home from work at any moment. I'm cooking spaghetti for dinner. Is that alright with you, Oliver?"
"Yes, ma'am! It's my favourite," he said, meekly, a bit ashamed of his sudden outburst. Paula laughed, amused.
"I'm glad!"
Oliver looked over at Alyce, she was grinning happily at him, joyed to see that her mother liked him.
"Hey mom, can I talk to you for a second?" Alyce asked.
"Of course, honey! We'll be right back, Oliver," Paula smiled.
Alyce took her mother into the living room and explained what was going on with Oliver and his foster family. Paula was saddened at the thought of such a terrible family.
"We may need to call his foster home, though. They may not know where he is and we could get in quite a bit of trouble," she explained to her daughter.
"Oh, no it's okay! I told Oliver to write down our phone number on a piece of paper. I don't think they'll call," she answered. Her mom was appeased and they joined Oliver in the kitchen.
"Do you know how long you would like to stay, Oliver?" Paula asked.
He honestly wasn't sure. He should probably only stay for a night or two; he didn't want to anger his foster parents.
"A night will be fine, Missus," he replied.
"Alright. I hope you know that you'll be welcome at any time," she smiled. Oliver was in shock. He had never met anyone so nice and accepting of him. Most people judged his second-hand clothes. Paula was accepting of him. Now he knew why Alyce was so accepting of different people; she was taught to be kind.
Hopefully her father was just as accepting…
Alyce had an extremely intimidating father.
That was the first thing Oliver took note of.
The second was that he was extremely protective of his daughter.
He gave Oliver the death glare as Oliver held out his hand for Alyce's father to shake.
His handshake was also pretty firm. Oliver winced.
"So, how'd you meet my little girl?" he questioned.
"Um, well, she helped me pick my things back up when I tripped," he explained. Her father raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly.
"How long are you staying here?" he asked. Oliver swallowed nervously. He wasn't too sure he liked Alyce's dad…
"She invited me for the night, sir," he answered, looking down at the plate of food on the table. This was almost as bad as being around his asshole foster brother.
"Hm, alright then; what's your name, son?" He stared Oliver down. His eyes were an eerie shade of blue; it made Oliver even more uncomfortable.
"My name is Oliver Thredson, sir," he tried answering confidently. It didn't really work. Being louder wasn't quite the same as being more confident, it seemed.
"Just call me David, Oliver," Alyce's father smiled at him for the first time. Oliver was extremely confused. "You seem like a good kid. I can tell my daughter enjoys your company. Hopefully not too much," he said, sending Oliver a warning glare.
"Oh, no sir! She's a good friend," he nervously explained. David nodded and began eating, signalling to everybody else to begin as well.
It was the best spaghetti Oliver ever had.
To his delight, Oliver found that Alyce enjoyed drawing and playing music. She had a piano in her bedroom as well as countless filled sketchbooks. Oliver opened one filled with cartoon-ish characters.
Alyce had explained that she would love to create comic strips for the newspapers.
The more he got to know Alyce, the more he began to open up himself.
He revealed to her that he used to be in band in middle school after years of saving up from the money that the Childs' Protective Service allotted him each month. He had saved up for years, originally thinking about putting his money towards contacts. He figured perhaps the kids at school would stop bullying him so much if he got rid of the cursed frames marring his face.
"No, I like your glasses," Alyce protested when he told her that he wanted contacts. She scooted over to him, tracing along the metallic rims of his glasses. " I like the way you look. You look like a doctor," she giggled.
Oliver felt his cheeks flush. No one had ever complimented him before her. She made him feel at least a little bit better about his looks.
"Uh, thanks. I like your hair?" he offered awkwardly. He never was very good at complimenting anyone.
Especially girls.
Still, Alyce smiled widely and hugged him. He was a bit caught off guard. No one had ever hugged him before.
Touch spoils the child.
Well, if so, he was having a wonderful time being spoiled.