December 22nd

Z Tech

Olive sits on her bed, admiring the "Fletcher"quilt that drapes over the edge. She drags her fingers across the fabric, feeling the stitching. A small smile forms on her face as she looks at a section where Fletcher is covered in paint. She unfolds the rest of the quilt, revealing all of the moments of Fletcher. There is even a few squares with Olive and Fletcher together. She misses him being around terribly. She really wants her wish to come true-Fletcher coming back, but she know it's too much to ask.

Olive sighs and looks around the room. She eyes the shelf where Chyna had put the elf, but it's missing. She goes down to the Z Tech lounge to ask Chyna about it.

"Chyna where did the elf go?" Olive asks as she walks through the room-a-vator doors to where Chyna sits with a mini keyboard and her laptop.

"It's not on the shelf?" Chyna asks, looking up from her music software.

"No, I woke up and it was gone. Did you move it?"

Chyna quickly looks at her laptop. "Nope."

Olive crosses her arms tightly against her chest. "That doesn't make sense," she complains.

Chyna sighs as she gets up. "Calm down Olive. Mr. Elf is just doing his job," she comforts

"You mean he's telling 'Santa' my wish?" Olive says, putting finger quotations on Santa.

"Exactly," beams Chyna. She sits back down and continues making music on her laptop. Olive stands there with arms crossed, frustration covers her face. This elf nonsense bothers her so much she almost thinks about texting Fletcher. Of course she doesn't though, because he doesn't deserve that.

Olive looks around the Z Tech lounge, seeing students talking and laughing with friends, some even with a significant other. Even with a room full of people, she still feels lonely at Christmastime. Of course she had Chyna, but when it was the three of them, a trio, everything felt livelier.

Chyna would make jokes, Olive would laugh. Fletcher would humiliate himself, Olive would laugh. Lexi would complain that no one was complimenting her, and they would all laugh. They would stay up past curfew, sneaking past Winter and play games in the girls lounge. Usually it ended with Fletcher screaming at Olive for cheating and then her defending herself.

"I hate him," Olive mutters under her breath.

"What?" Chyna perks.

"I. Hate. Fletcher," Olive repeats, this time more firm.

"Why would you say that Olive?" Chyna stands up furiously.

"Because I hate Fletcher." Olive's arms are tight against her chest.

"Olive, Fletcher went to New York to follow is passion something you wanted him to do," Chyna argues, her voice raising to a rare tone-very contrasting to her usual upbeat voice.

"That's not the reason why I hate him," Olive admits.

"Is there something you're not telling me Olive?" Chyna skeptics. Her eyes narrow and she has a hand on her hip. They have a long staring contest before Olive answers.

"The day he left for the fellowship in New York, after the three of us hugged, I said goodbye to him one last time..."

Olive stood by Grandma Dottie's car, with wet eyes but a sentimental grin. She looked at the ground before meeting Fletcher's eyes as he stood in front of her; he shared the same emotion. Olive just wanted time to stop. Even though she urged Fletcher to pursue the fellowship, she thought the timing was brutal. Years and years of constant teasing, bickering and irritation from the two and when they finally open their eyes and see that there's more to them then that, an opportunity comes along to pull them apart.

"I'm very proud of you Fletcher," Olive said. "You really are the greatest artist I know."

Fletcher tasted a tear that slid past his lip. The words she said to him, really hit him. It was rare for her to compliment him, and now that they were getting along, she did it more often.

"Thanks Olive. You're amazing for letting me take this opportunity."

Olive sniffed. "Look, I know I 'broke up' with you so you'd go, but I'm actually going to miss you. Wow, I never thought I'd ever say that."

Fletcher chuckled, a real smile forming. He wiped a tear off her face with his thumb. "Hey, don't worry. I'll call, text you everyday and we'll video chat. I promise."

"You swear you'll visit?"

"I swear Olive."

Olive and Fletcher stared at each other until they finally leaned in for their second kiss. She was dying for this to happen, but just as he was inches away he pulled back quickly.

"I really should go. Grandma Dottie is inpatient," he said, stumbling around so he could open the car door. Olive stepped back, watching Fletcher buckle his seatbelt. She turned around, crying into her hands and running into Chyna's arms.

"He swore to me he'd visit," Olive finishes explaining. "And when we were about to kiss, he just got away. Like he didn't like me anymore. That's why I hate him."

"Can you blame him?" scoffs Chyna. "You always ridicule and make fun of Fletcher. Why would he want to come back to that?"

Olive's mouth hung open. "What are you saying? He doesn't want to be around me? That everything he said to me before he left was a lie?"

Chyna crosses her arms, rolling her tongue around her cheek. "We'll sometimes being around you can be annoying," she mumbles.

"Whatever," Olive hisses. "I don't need you, or Fletcher or your stupid elf!"

She runs to the room-a-vator, aggressively punching in her room floor.

"This is the worst Christmas ever!"