Disclaimer: I don't own Morris or Oscar Delancey. Disney does.
A/N: I was trying to put some what if's into story form: What if Oscar wasn't just a malicious jerk? What if he was smart? and Jack was mean? What if he had reasons for acting the way he did? What if he had to explain himself? So I tried to create a somewhat realistic modern dayscene to act out these what if's. Nena's an O.C. (she's from Germany). Also, in this story, Oscar has 3 brothers: Morris (of course, who's the oldest and called Mo by the fam) and then Sean and Toby who are younger- this comes up briefly. I just wanted it that way for some reason, lol, I don't know why. The story's sort of unfinished, but I think I'll leave it as is for now. I appreciate any reviews, constructive criticism,or suggestions. Also, I'd like to give a big thank you to Aisling for editing and giving me feedback.
Enjoy!
"I don't have to explain myself to them."
"Oh come on, Oscar. It's not like they're asking you to tell them your deepest secrets."
"In a way, they are." The defensive wall was nearly visible as Oscar responded to Nena. In the dimly lit living room, he sat at the edge of the sofa looking at his girlfriend in disbelief. For some reason, he hadn't expected this from her. For some reason, he had assumed that she would automatically take his side over theirs, but he had been mistaken. The questions that tumbled from her lips were put there by her friends; he knew this for sure. And the evidence they had shared with her made it clear that he was a terrible person
"Oscar, they want to know why. They think…"
He watched her for a moment, nervously trying to figure out a way to respond to her. He sensed that she had shut herself off from him, and this hurt him in a way he was uncomfortable admitting; a way that made him angry.
"Nena, you know I don't care what they think."
She sighed and started a bit sternly. "They keep saying horrible things about you…"
"I don't care!" Oscar interrupted, a familiar scowl settling onto his face.
"…about what an awful person you are and what you did to Sarah, and how you harass them and how…" she paused and then continued quietly "you only want me for..."
"Who wants to know? Them or you?" Oscar demanded.
"We all do, and that includes me. I don't even know the answer to the questions they ask or how to respond to what they say, and I've been with you for a year. I think I deserve to know why you do these things, Oscar…and what you plan to do with me."
Oscar's jaw muscle contracted - a sign that he was frustrated and thinking. He was aware of Nena watching him and waiting for him to speak. A glance in her direction showed her hands cupped over her knees and her brow furrowed.
"Nena, I told you I've stopped being that way, and I told you that my brothers and I have been through…c-counseling." He had trouble getting the word out. Memories of uncomfortable evenings in a dark office flooded his head;anger, insecurity, and fear manifested themselves differentlyamong the four Delancey brothers. Morris stuttered, Oscar was voluntarily mute, Sean spoke little and had a morose air about him that was unnatural for a kid his age and Toby would spontaneously break things. The memories were not so distant. Accompanying those memories were the sounds of insults shouted at him and Mo as they walked off the school bus together. The vicious rumors that had circulated the school about them were a product of preadolescents looking to assert themselves and secure a higher place in the fucked up middle school hierarchy. He saw very clearly the face of a young Francis Jacob Sullivan - about theage whenhe had changed his public name to Jack Kelly - distorted with derisive laughter. Oscar's knuckles itched with a desire to smash into Jack's chin. For some reason, the taller boy had always been able to beat him and continue to gain support against him and his brother.
Recently, Oscar had somehow pushed the majority of that into the past. He would still love to pound Jack, but he now had enough restraint to ignore him when they stumbled across each other around town. Jack, although he still wore that smug smirk, had grown up enough to keep his mouth shut during such occurrences. Deep down, Oscar knew he couldn't blame Jack for his own excessive bullying. When he had hit his growth spurt and had started talking, his anger lost focus and he was content with pushing any boy who glanced in his direction into a locker. He held on to the intimidating character he had created and used it to his advantage; everyone left him and his brother alone. The only person who had the balls and strength to stand up to them was Jack, but it was better this way. One person was much easier to avoid than a whole class.
Oscar had dabbled in dating outside of their high school; meeting girls in places where no one knew him personally and rumors of his villainy could easily be disputed. When Nena came from Germany, she was flooded with the stories of all he had done, but not having witnessed any of these accusations herself, she remained disbelieving and grew curious rather than fearful or hateful. Surely the boy in her Physics class (she was ahead of the American school system) who knew all the answers and had a strong sense of sarcastic humor couldn't be the same Oscar Delancey. They wound up studying together and, eventually, dating. He had shrugged off many of her questions, telling her that Jack was a jerk and she shouldn't listen to him or his cohorts. A year later, her friends had not gotten over the fact that they were a couple, and, now that he thought of it, knowing himself and all that he had done, along with knowing that her friends hated him, it was puzzling that she had stayed with him. He had left bullying behind, but he was infamous in this town and no amount of newly acquired niceties and politeness would change that.
He stepped out of his thoughts and looked at Nena's jaw absently moving up and down, working her gum like a cow chewing grass. He had told her some of this story before. She knew about the change of custody that had brought the Delancey boys to live with their uncle as well as the teasing that had scarred him socially. It was information he had been reluctant to give up in full detail, but he had trusted her to trust him. Stronger than his desire to suppress those parts of his past was the desire to gain emotional closeness with her. He had left out some of the specific details that he thought would hamper this goal.
"I don't do those things anymore," he restated. "But I can't take back what I did."
Nena was quiet for moment, seemingly weighing the decision to accept his response
"I know Oscar, but what about Sarah… and what about me?"
Sarah. He cringed at the thought of the girl, and of what had happened that day after track practice. People had called for his expulsion.
"We didn't do anything but scare her," he began.
The whole purpose had been to hurt Davey, Jack's reluctant sidekick. Davey had done little to them directly, but he was Jack's confidante.
"We didn't do what they think." His voice remained even as he stared ahead, his hands clasped under his chin. Every once in a while he glanced at Nena, his eyes pleading with her to believe him.
"Oscar, if you didn't do what they say, then why did you get in trouble? I know you were suspended."
He turned sharply, biting back the words that threatened to burst from his lips. Obscenities directed at the uncomfortable situation rather than at her. He and his brother hadn't raped Sarah, although that was one of the stories being told and retold at the time. He remembered the scene. The comments they made and Morris' arms around her waist, pulling her down an empty hallway, laughing when she struggled. He inhaled slowly, looking away from Nena's prodding green eyes and feeling an angering sting in his own.
"We took it too far. Said things that made her uncomfortable. We shouldn'ta done it." The tone of his voice had grown sharp.
"What did she and Dave do to you?" she prodded.
Again, Oscar paused, knowing that no answer he provided would make her understand or justify his actions. "We really would have liked to give it to Kelly."
"But why?"
"Because he's an arrogant bastard," Oscar said with exasperation, as if Nena should have guessed. His nostrils flared as he struggled to keep his poise.
"They think you're an arrogant bastard."
"I told you I'm done with caring about what they think!" he snapped. He inhaled sharply before continuing. "Jack was responsible for every miserable moment Mo and I had in middle school. He was a real jerk back then. He still is. I won't forget it. Ever." He sighed and paused. "You're… thinking just the way they do aren't you?" he asked, afraid to hear her answer.
He looked towards her and took note of her jet-black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her feathered bangs slanted across her forehead, ends tucked behind her ear. Her gently curving eyebrows were raised, contrasting with both her fair skin and her emerald eyes. Even in this moment of high stress, Oscar saw her beauty, and the concern in her eyes hurt him even more. He wished he could tell her that none of the things they said were true, but the unfortunate and unchangeable truth was that everything they said was accurate.
"You said you don't care what anyone thinks about you." She effectively threw his words at him.
"I can't care about what they think. If I did, then I might just realize that nearly everyone in this damn town thinks my brother and I are a bunch of stupid oafish goons. Then I might just regret everything I've done and that goes against my established persona." He smiled sadly at his attempt at a joke. After a moment he added, "I do care what you think."
He kept his hands clasped under his chin and moved his gaze to the carpet under his feet. His jaw muscle clenched again. He wanted to know what she thought of him then. He knew he was opening himself up to her in a way that he usually didn't like. Part of him cursed for not masking the stories with an elaborate lie, but he knew he cared too much for that. Despite his guard, he wouldn't lie about any of it.
"What about me, Oscar? They keep saying…" Nena began.
"I know what they keep saying. It's not true. Nena, I know I've done a lot of shitty things, but you, I wouldn't…you know, sometimes I don't know why you're with me."
Communicating that uncertainty suddenly made Oscar feel vulnerable in a way he usually avoided at all costs. His comment had been too honest, and a feeling of dread descended over him as he waited for his girlfriend to speak.
"They made sure to tell me every crime you ever committed the first time I mentioned your name. You've been a terror." She took a slow breath. "They keep telling me these things…and….and I wonder how my boyfriend, Oscar, could be the same Oscar they tell me about." There was a pause and Oscar replayed the words "my boyfriend, Oscar" in his head.
He sat up and leaned back into the sofa. "God, Nena!" he said weakly, tired of the conversation, but wanting to find some way to help her understand some of the things he felt couldn't be understood. "Don't listen to everything they say. Your friends don't know half of what went on between Kelly, his friends and us. He's no fuckin angel. None of them are." He thought his next words through carefully and then continued.
"They probably see you with someone 'better' than me. I agree with them that you deserve only good things…and I want to be a 'good thing' for you. Even though I did things in the past that your average 'good person' doesn't do. I can't take those things away, and people will never forget that they happened. I'm sorry, sweetie."
The "sweetie" seemed profane when tacked onto the end of that speech. He watched her lower her eyes to her hands. There wasn't much he could do. Whatever opinions she had of him were her own to change. Oscar felt a cloud of disappointment hovering about him when he read her facial expressions to mean she had not been convinced. He was quiet, thinking of what he should say and wondering if he should hug her or take her hand. Although he wanted to give his girlfriend the comfort of knowing the story behind the stories she had heard, he also felt he needed some comfort for himself. He wondered, now, if she would decide that ending the relationship would be a better idea than toughing it out with a violent, angry nut job with emotional baggage from years past. The one thing he could say on his behalf was that he had always treated her well.
He wasn't looking at her now and he knew it was because he was afraid of what her eyes would tell him. However, her sharp breathing caught his attention. It only took two sniffles for him to realize that she was crying – another unexpected occurrence. Her head was bowed slightly as she wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand. Oscar scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Nena's quivering shoulders. He had seen her cry before in anger or frustration, and maybe this could be classified as the same thing, but there was disenchantment shrouding her. Oscar held her close to him, feeling her warm tears soak through his cotton t-shirt. He felt as if she was crying for both of them.
"Os-Oscar," Nena stuttered wiping her face with her sleeve, but she didn't finish the sentence. Instead, she curled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, her forehead touching his neck. She reached across her body and linked her fingers with his far hand. She murmured something that sounded a bit like "Don't hurt me" but when Oscar asked for clarification, she said it was nothing. The conversation had exhausted him, so he did not press her for a different response. After all, he was the one who should be answering questions, not her.