Yep, I'm back! Hope you people had a wonderful Thanksgiving and all. Now we can suffer through cheesy Christmas commercials.
Fr tho did you see how they did the Kisses one? For America, anyway. I think it's still the same everywhere else in the world. Or maybe there isn't a kisses commercial at all in some places. You never know.
Anyway, I just wanted to give a big thanks to the guest who recommended that awesome idea. It might take a few weeks, months even (because y'know, still got writer's block and stuff but I came back to port some Wattpad stuff over here), but I'll make it. Once again, thanks.
How do you guys feel about a beach chapter in December? (there's no way I'm doing that Christmas crap) Or maybe something about Bev and Andre. I honestly forgot they existed for a moment. Oof.
I'm gonna try to work on this version more often and stop porting stuff. Wattpad's cool and all, but a lot of people with potential are constantly overshadowed by god damn alpha and omega, I got kidnapped by Billie Eilish, Good girl bad guy love stories. I just think it's more fun to write stuff on here.
I was joking, by the way. I didn't mean to offend anybody who loves those types of stories or anybody who writes them. You do you.
Merry early Christmas, thanks for reading.
"Knockity-knock-knock knock-knock knockity-"
"I get it, Mr. Allen, you're at the door!" Mrs. Sanders cried. Not even two seconds into the visit and she was already annoyed. "And for the last freaking time, licking the bathroom floor is not worthy enough of going home! I mean, if it was an accident, then I might consider it..."
"I hit my arm on a table," Ollie cut her off, bringing attention to his damaged arm. "It was bleeding, but Ivy fixed it up. She said I needed stitches though."
"Ms. Sanchez did this for you?" The nurse led him to the bench and instructed him to take a seat. "Why, that was nice of her! She's always been a sweet young lady, hasn't she? She's just too serious sometimes."
Ollie didn't say a word, his heart breaking into several pieces more at the nurse's words. Ivy's attitude wasn't a normal thing, then.
Somewhere in her bitterness, she was capable of being nice. She was nice - to others, anyway. She was sweet to everyone, everyone but him. For those brief moments where she wasn't cramming insults down his throat, was she even genuine? Was she playing nice to get him to quiet down? He shook that thought at once; she wasn't being fake. She was usually nice when he was nice. Keyword, usually. She was mean whenever he was getting on her nerves. So he as an entirety was the reason she hated him. He was an insecure, egotistical, annoying dork that was worthy of being treated like trash. Would changing all of that make things better? He didn't know he was egotistical, to be honest.
He figured that he had a healthy amount of confidence for his age. His friends never said anything about it, nor his classmates. Even Pyper had no complaints about his personality, and she was the type of person who wasn't afraid to speak her mind - family or not.
What if... they did know about his supposedly big ego, and they've been putting up with it for so long that they've gotten used to it? Perhaps Ivy was right.
"Hey, kid? Did you hear me?" Mrs. Sanders knocked on his head to get his attention. "You were dazing out there for a sec. What, did you fall on your head too?" She joked.
"Just my arm, mam," he denied, solemnly.
"What's the matter with you now?" She went over to a cooler that held her secret stash of coke, grabbing a Ziploc bag out of her pocket. "You look like you just got your little heart broken."
Ollie looked at her with a half-smile half grimace. "R-really?"
"Really. You should look at yourself, those bags under your eyes are looking a lot more prominent."
This nurse seemed to be brutally honest as well. He could ask her about his ego. He shouldn't, but he could. It would feel too weird, though.
"I'm okay."
"Well, that's on you! Here you go, put that on there for a while," she shoveled some ice from her cooler into the bag, then gave it to Ollie. "I'll call your mother and let her know what's going on. Go on, off to lunch. I'll get somebody to grab you when she shows up."
"Thanks."
He slid off of the bench, holding the ice close to his arm as he walked out of the office. Mrs. Sanders, as joking as she was, was a bit worried. Ollie was being strangely formal and quiet today. He looked extremely down in the dumps.
He did know that she was joking about the heartbreak thing, right?
"Bernie, I'm telling you! If you hold some coke in your mouth and drop a mento in there, then it'll shoot right out of your-"
"CLEO THAT'S ENOUGH," Bernie said quickly, putting his partially eaten sandwich back onto his tray and shoving it forwards. He had lost his appetite. "I wish you wouldn't talk like that when I'm eating."
"I can't talk gross with you, you're always eating! You're no fun," she blew a short raspberry and folded her arms. "Where's Oll? He and his girlfriend should be finishing up right about now."
"It makes you wonder what exactly they're doing in there," Bernie smirked, Cleo knowingly doing the same.
"Should we catch them in the act, my dear friend?"
"Oh yes...the embarrassment Ollie's gonna feel when we catch him cleaning a room!" Bernie said innocently. Cleo gave him a confused look.
"Wha...what?"
"Yeah?"
"Bern... what are you talking about?"
"What are you talking about?"
"N-nevermind."
An awkward silence fell between them as they each looked around the cafeteria. Bernie was still trying to figure out what the bluenette meant by catching them in the act. Cleo looked at the line and beamed. Trying to catch his eyes, she stood up and waved wildly.
"There he is! Ooh, and LOOK! His hair looks a little messy, wouldn't you say?"
"Oh my," Bernie said, sucking in his cheeks as he finally understood Cleo's joke.
The two had a hard time keeping a lid on their excitement by the time Ollie reached the table.
"H-how'd it go, O?" Bernie snickered into his hand. It slowly came to a halt when he saw Ollie's arm. "Woah, what happened to your arm?"
"Was Ivy a little too rough?" Cleo noticed as well, leaning over to get a better look.
Bernie lightly smacked her wrist. "Cleo!"
"In all seriousness, what happened? Did you fall or something?"
Throwing his pack to the ground, he depressingly sat down. "I hit a desk," he sighed.
"I'm sorry, dude. That must've hurt," Cleo awed sympathetically. She sweetly slid her choccy miluk to him. "Here, you can have it!"
"I'm not thirsty," he slid it back to her.
"Then do you want my pizza?"
"I'm not hungry either."
"Are you sure? They're serving legit food today, it might be a while until we see this cheesy goodness come ba-ack!" The 13-year-old persuaded, taking a dramatic and over-exaggerated bite out of her slice. "Mmph...well, okay, it's tastes like tuna fish and ass, but the good kind. Please don't take that out of context."
"I'm good, Cleo, no thanks," he politely, yet quietly turned her down. The friends were now beginning to worry.
"You're always hungry, Ollie!" Bernie stated.
"Yeah, and you love pizza! You ate it on the way to a wedding, you ate it on our kindergarten graduation, I'm willing to bet you eat it in the shower!"
Bernie paled. "Oh, he does... I saw things I wished I never saw that day."
"What's up? Are you sick?" Cleo asked, placing her hand on his cheek.
"I'm not sick, I'm just tired," Ollie groaned as he faceplanted onto the table. Cleo gasped as she put the puzzle together, even with the pieces she didn't have.
"Aww, you're sad? What happened in there?" She shook him a bit. Turning to Bernie, she informed, "He's sad, Bern, really sad."
"I'm not sad!" Ollie shouted into the table.
"You're being way too quiet and... weirder than usual to be happy. Look up, talk to us."
"No, Cleo."
"That wasn't a suggestion, sir, that's an order."
"But there's nothing wrong!" He snapped at her, sitting up. Bernie gave Cleo a hinting look, and she knew what it meant.
"Protocol R?"
"It's the only way, Cleo."
"Good! We haven't done Protocol R since kindergarten!" Cleo stepped away from the table, rolled up her sleeves, and cracked her knuckles. "Alright, here we go. I AM A ROCK!"
She shouted so loud that the entire cafeteria stopped what they were doing. Before Ollie could question the random outburst, Cleo opened out her arms and fell on top of him. "I'm a rock... I'm a very friendly rock..."
"Ow, Cleo! Get off!" The chosen one fumed, desperately struggling to get the girl off of his lap.
"Are you gonna tell us what's wrong?"
"Never!"
"Bernie, I need backup!" The girl called happily.
"Sorry, Ollie. I must abide by the rules of Protocol R," Bernie apologized before resting on top of Cleo. "Rock, rock, rock-"
"We can get Turner to join us too, y'know," Cleo threatened.
"Okay, okay! PLEASE don't get him, I'll spill!" Ollie finally caved in.
"Ah, good ol' Protocol R!" Cleo sighed with satisfaction as Bernie climbed off of her so she could get off of Ollie. "Works every time! And don't give us that look, you know that you would've done the same thing."
"I wouldn't call for backup," Ollie pouted, glaring at Bernie.
"I said I was sorry!"
"Now that we got you to break with our awesome and totally safe methods, can you please tell us what's wrong? It must've been something big, I can see it in your eyes." Cleo pleaded as she and Bernie sat back down.
"She's right. You kinda look heartbroken." Bernie agreed, picking around with a piece of pepperoni.
Cleo scoffed skeptically," Heartbroken? Bernie, that's silly. The only girl other than me that he's been around all day was..." She trailed off as she found out the truth.
"Hold up..."
Ollie looked at her nervously. "W-what?"
"Hold the hell up...Ollie, did Ivy do this to you? Is she the reason you're so upset?"
"N-no...sorta... maybe..."
Cleo and Bernie were suddenly outraged, Cleo standing up once more and shouting.
"That bitch! What did she do?"
"Did she make you hurt your arm? Did she hurt your arm?" Bernie inquired.
"No, you guys! You're getting worked up over nothing!" Ollie tried to get them to drop it, his voice getting quieter and quieter the more he spoke.
"Did you expect us not to get worked up?" Cleo sassed, hands on her hips. "What did she do? I bet she beat you up, didn't she? Oh...wait, no, you'd be bruised all over, I forgot you can't fight..."
"She didn't do anything!"
"Then she said something, didn't she?" Bernie asked, looking around the lunchroom in search of the mentioned girl. Ollie didn't respond.
"She did! Where is she, Oll? I'll slap - I mean beat - I mean TALK some sense into her. Talk, I-I said talk." Cleo rubbed her arm sheepishly.
"Guys, it's not that big of a deal, honestly," Ollie lied, shifting the bag of ice around on his arm. "She...um...she called me a goof, that's all."
Bernie, unfortunately, saw right through it. "Ollie, we call you all sorts of things and you never reacted like this. Why would goof hurt-"
"Can you guys drop it already?!" The redhead lashed out, his patience as thin as wet paper. "You guys worry too much!"
"So you're just gonna take it? We're not trying to be pushy, O, we just..." Bernie was interrupted by Ollie.
"I don't wanna talk about it, okay? I have to go home in a couple of hours, and I would like to spend those hours with no feelings, no interrogations, and peace! Just peace."
His voice sounded more despondent as he began to feel worse. His arm wasn't even a problem anymore.
"I don't want you guys to worry about it, I don't even want you guys to think about it. Drop it, please," he entreated. Cleo softened up at the vulnerable state of their friend.
"Of course, Oll. Sorry for pressuring you, we don't know what got into us," she smiled friendly. "Are you going to be okay?"
"I think so."
"Good to hear. That choccy miluk is still on sale if you still want it! You better hurry, though, I think it expires in an hour."
"I don't deserve it, you can keep it."
She sighed a little. Not for the milk, oh no, but due to the mild frustration she had. She knew exactly what was wrong with him and she knew exactly how to help (fists and spit slaps may or may not be involved.), but he prohibited her from doing so. For his happiness, she pushed the problem aside. "That's your loss," she shrugged, opening the carton. She took a huge sip only to spit it back out on her (thankfully) empty tray. "Oh yeah... yep, that's... that's spoiled already."
"Anyway," Bernie began. "Cleo, doesn't Protocol H usually comes after Protocol R?"
For the first time since they first saw him, he finally showed an emotion other than sadness. He slowly backed up with wide eyes.
"I swear to God if you two hop on top of me again-"
"Protocol H is nice, Oll, don't worry," Bernie said, rolling up his sleeves. Cleo stood up again.
"I'm being serious, guys, stop! I almost died last time!"
Bernie leaned over and hugged him. The reason why he would roll up his sleeves before doing so was unknown, but this was Bernie that we're talking about. The redhead stopped being so tense once he figured out what they meant.
"You could've just said that it was a hug, you guys." He rolled his eyes as he hugged Bernie back. Cleo happily joined them.
"That would've been lame, Ollie, you dodo. Now be quiet and embrace the group hug."
It was nice. The cafeteria was a bit quieter, they were all calm, and Cleo and Bernie were being really kind at the moment.
He could ask them.
If he could get the truth about his personality from anyone, it would be them.
Or would it?
Maybe not.
These two weren't afraid to speak their minds, but would they do it now? When he was in such a mood? Knowing Cleo, the girl would try to sugarcoat coat it or beat around the bush entirely. And Bernie? He'd try to change the subject. So no, he couldn't ask them. He'd go to Pyper. Pyper would let him know the truth no matter what.
They separated after there minutes later. By looking at their faces, he was right. They looked sympathetic, and they were going to shower him with admiration until he got back on his feet.
"Whatever Ivy said, I'm sure she didn't mean it. She'll come around, trust me." Cleo said.
She wouldn't come around. Ollie didn't need a psychic to know that.
"Thanks, guys. I swear I don't deserve you sometimes."
He really didn't. Assholes didn't deserve such nice people, did they?
"Don't talk like that, O," Bernie frowned lightly. "You know that freaks me out."
Ollie was starting to freak himself out with his weird train of thought. A small one etched his lips.
"I was kidding, Bern."
They didn't bring up the subject of his unhappiness anymore for the remainder of lunch. If Ollie said that he was fine, then he must've meant it. He was a somewhat emotionally strong boy, so he'd get over it eventually. Yeah, Cleo was still going to confront Ivy sometime in the day, but she now believed that Ollie would be okay. Why would he lie about that? They were his best friends, weren't they?
An hour later, not too much after lunch ended, his mother had finally come to get him the hell out of this prison. As he looked out of the window and watched the trees go by, he partially listened to June's worried rambling.
"Pumpkin, I am so sorry! I got caught up at the store, then some guy's car broke down, just a huge mess. Are you okay?"
He nodded shortly."Yeah, it's nothing. A few stitches should do the job."
"That's my tough boy!"
Feeling very assured, June put her entire focus on the road as Ollie went back to thinking. (Eventually, he was going to have to stop doing such a task since it was starting to make his head hurt.) There was a small chance that he was being a big baby over this, but Ivy's words were still fresh in his mind. She did this sort of stuff all the time, and he knew that it wasn't going to end any time soon. He should be used to it, he was in a way, but damn would he be lying if he said that it didn't sting.
She was probably happy right now. Either that, or she was receiving the biggest beatdown in her life by Cleo. Was the girl going to be true to her word?
No, that was silly!
Cleo was tough, and she definitely had her moments where she completely lost her temper, but she was never violent. Well, not thug-violent, because she did chip his tooth when they were kids. But certainly, she was only bluffing about confronting Ivy.
"Cleo!"
On the trek to her next class, a frantic, girly voice shouted her name. Cleo groaned, knowing exactly who it was. She stopped walking, waiting for Ivy to catch up. Whatever she wanted, it better be good.
"Why, look who it is! Little Miss Heartbreaker, Supreme ruler of Bitchtopia!" Cleo insulted with a sugary sweet grin. Not gonna lie, she was pretty proud that she made such a bullet on the spot.
"Look, I don't have time to argue with you, okay?" Ivy snapped.
"Oh, but I do," Cleo smirked more threateningly than Debby Ryan ever could, clearly enjoying this.
"Whatever, where's Ollie?"
"Sooo...you can bring him to tears?"
"No, smartass, so I can apologize!"
"Well, if you absolutely have to know," she dragged out for dramatic effect. "He checked out. He had to get his arm taken care of. Hey, you didn't happen to have a knife with you in there, did you?"
"Is he coming back?!"
"Why do you care?"
"Because...I kinda feel bad for hurting his feelings, and...look, is he coming back or not?" Ivy asked impatiently.
"Ollie hates school, so probably not," Cleo grabbed the straps of her bag. With a cold glare, she added, "Don't get too happy though. He might come back tomorrow. But hey, look on the bright side! At least that'll give you plenty of chances to stomp on his heart again. Stomp -stomp."
"You little-" Ivy began to lash out, but controlled her self just in time. Wasarguing with Cleo really worth her time? She'd much rather waste it thinking of an apology. "Actually, nevermind. Thank you so much for being helpful, Cleo."
"And thank you for making one of my best friends so upset that he could burst into tears at any moment!"
"It was a pleasure."
"I'd imagine so for someone like you."
"Whatever," with an iconic roll of the eyes, Ivy walked off in the opposite direction. Cleo flipped her off quickly and discreetly before heading off to class, satisfied.
She won that battle, obviously. Ivy walked away because she couldn't come up with a comeback, so that meant she won. And that was great. At least now she had a better insight into Ivy's character.
She wasn't a bitch.
She was an ultra bitch. The supreme bitch. The type of bitch who would kick a sick person when they're down.
Cleo wasn't angry. Okay, she was, but she was only being angry for Ollie. His feelings were way too hurt for him to be upset right now. She wasn't pissed to where she'd make rash decisions, customary to many beliefs. But she was so angry that she wanted to reach inside of the deepest pits of hell within her and go on a very colorful rant.
By the sounds of it, Ivy wasn't sorry at all. She was probably only apologizing to Ollie to get back on his good side and keep her reputation of being nice. To her, it was pointless. Why try to make up when you don't even give a damn about the person you hurt? It would make things worse than better.
Bitches were predictable. If Ollie made the foolish decision to forgive her, which was likely to happen since he really liked her, then she was only going to shatter his heart again.
She would never understand how he could like such a heartless person.