A/N: I said I would update with in the week? I think you've probably lost all trust in my updating habits by now. Hey, we've finally caught up to the lyrics.
Cause I feel
The distance between us
Oliver
I don't know what to do. This is the first time I really don't know what to do. I've thought and thought and thought and just can't come up with an answer. I've used every method of reasoning I know and I'm still stuck here.
I'm freaked out. This is the biggest thing that's ever happened to me. At least the most serious. My family and everyone have tried to comfort me, but they really didn't know Matt.
What's really killing me is I'm not sad. I'm just sentimental and scared. Like this huge bubble is rising in my chest, but it won't pop. Why can't I feel anything?
Instead of thinking about Matt, I've been thinking about Katie. If there were somebody who could tell me what to do, it would be her. She could keep a level head and help me out. I'm usually the levelheaded one, but I can't even think straight now.
I'd owl her, but I'm too afraid. I'm afraid she'll be sad for me. That's not what I need. I need her to say, "What are you talking about?" I need her to say this never happened. Shit, why did this happen?
I've never really known anybody who's died before. My friend's dad died when I was about 10, but I didn't really know the dad too well, and as cold-hearted as this seems, the friends got over it. My Grandpa died when I was probably seven, but I barely ever saw him. This is just weird. I'm trying to hold on to my senses. I'm trying to capture this feeling and store it away in my memory, because I've never really felt this way before.
I want to get back to clear thinking, but I want to let go and just float around in my thoughts also. Somebody's got to help me out.
Katie
Rob was an arrogant, selfish jerk who only cared about his looks and was very rude. Besides his outwardly friendly persona, all he really wanted to do was to get in my pants.
That's what I wish I could say. But no, Rob's the perfect gentleman, with not only good looks, but also a charismatic personality and great sense of humor.
But we never really hit it off. Things were just a bit awkward, and we really didn't have anything to talk about.
That was also a complete lie. We hit it off great, just like old friends. And we had everything to talk about. Parents, quidditch, school. Heck, we could have a three-hour long conversation about the paint job in my bedroom. Which we shared, by the way. You can imagine my reaction. Or maybe you can't.
I believe when my parents told me he would be staying in my room, since Steve was sleeping on the downstairs couch, I was drinking a glass of grape juice. I coughed it back into my glass and had to pass it of as a bad sneeze.
This would be much easier if I could separate my feelings into little boxes and measure them. Damn boys.
But, if things could get any worse, they certainly did this morning. So I was enjoying a nice glass of tea, and my sunny side up eggs, when Rob walks in and sits down. He pours himself some captain crunch, while I stare at his sexy hands. Eventually he looks up and I try to pass off my staring as a cough. I've been doing a lot of that lately…
Much to my dismay, and pleasure, he strikes up a conversation.
"I don't know if I told you, but my friends are throwing a Christmas party tomorrow night. Would you like to go with me?"
Well, he certainly didn't beat around the bush very much, did he? I shift in my seat and open and close my mouth a few times before shrugging.
"Alright."
"Great. We'll leave at half past six, then?"
"Sure" I choked.
He smiled and got up to rinse out his milky bowl. I waited until he was out of the kitchen to let my head drop on the table. Man, did I have some problems.
Could be over
With the snap of your finger, Oh, no
Oliver
Dear Katie,
How are you? I hope your winter break is going well? Mine isn't going too great. My friend died.
Dear Katie,
I'm sorry I rushed out like that at the party. I got some bad news from Dumbledore. My friend died.
Dear Katie,
How's it going? My friend died.
Dear Katie,
I'm going crazy. My friend died.
Screw it.
Dear Katie,
My friend died.
I sent it. Not really a great way to tell her, but nothing matters right now.
Katie
I never get dressed up. Not even for Oliver. But here, for Rob's party, I'm in a tiny blue dress and (gasp) high heels. And here's the kicker- makeup. Yes, I know, who are you and what have you done with Katie?
So here goes nothing. I walk down the stairs to the living room, and of course Rob's there. You'd think this guy would have one flaw, but no. Thank goodness my parents aren't home. Out to a party themselves.
"You look gorgeous"
I smiled wanly. "Thank you. You clean up nicely yourself".
Truth is he didn't look bad at all before he 'cleaned up', but he did look nice in a shirt, tie, and dinner jacket. Oh, and despite my wandering imagination, dress pants.
Despite my better judgment, he took my hand and began to lead me out of the house. Just as we opened the door, a rapping came at the window. An owl was sitting there with a small not tucked in its beak.
"Let me just get this really quick,' I said, glad for the chance to stall. I took the parchment from the bird and opened it up. I stopped in my tracks when I read the scrawl.
Dear Katie,
My friend died.
Even though there was no name, I could tell who it was. It wasn't as much the handwriting and the premonition something bad had happened to him.
I think it was then that I figured out that Rob had a flaw- he wasn't Oliver. I would rather be at home with a broken-up Oliver than at a party with a spiffy Rob.
I don't think Rob ever figured out why I never returned his owls.
A/N: So I really didn't mean for the holidays in this story to line up with the real ones, but somehow with my crazy update schedule, it happened. Huh. Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night.