PROVE IT ↠ WYATT OLEFF

//one//

"hey," i furrow my eyebrows and frown at wyatt , who's in the front of everyone. "back off."

"this little asshole deserves what he got." jaeden says, his face contorted with anger.

"scram, octagon." jack waves me off with annoyance in his face.

"go fuck around somewhere else." i stand my ground, speaking firmly. they all scoff and wyatt spits at the boy behind me, who cowers away. i frown at him again and they all walk away.

i turn around only to be met with a familiar face.

"so, what's aiden penn doing with wyatt oleff and his little shit squad?" he chuckles and straightens himself.

"i have no idea." he brushes himself off and shoulders his backpack properly. "what's octavia harris doing standing up to the 'unbeatable' wyatt oleff and his shit squad?" he uses air quotes.

"unbeatable my ass. i could probably break their arms." i huff, starting to put my earbuds back in.

"i can tell." he smiles, slightly impressed. "see you tomorrow in science." he winks, smirking and walking off. i play my music again, following my original path back home with a small smile on my face.

--

i get home, dropping my things in my room before walking right back outside. i take out my pack of cigarettes and lighter, sitting on my porch. the familiar flame appears as i light the cigarette. i close my eyes, taking a drag and sighing.

suddenly, i hear multiple voices and snickering approaching on the sidewalk in front of my house, instantly ruining the moment. what's new?

"what's up octagon?" a loud, high-pitched voice asks. "drowning your sorrows in more drugs?"

"sounds about right, jack-ass." i say from my spot in front of my house. i take another smoke-filled breath and speak again. "what took you losers so long? beating up more people?" i watch the cigarette smoke and avoid eye contact with any of them.

"mind your own business, metal mouth." wyatt speaks up making me snap my head toward him. he opens the front door for his friends while he makes eye contact with me and glares. i just give him another fake smile and he walks in, slamming the door behind him.

i stay outside for a little longer before putting my cigarette out and heading back inside. deciding to actually get my homework done, i take my math text book out and go through it, finding the pages i was supposed to do. i look up and down the pages multiple times before closing it and pushing it off my bed.

groaning, i fall front-first onto my bed, before getting uncomfortable with the silence. i really did want to do good in school, but it was hard and complicated and i lack motivation. the teacher was also a bitch who did a terrible job of teaching me. if she isn't going to put in effort why should i?

I stare up at the ceiling for a while before heaving myself up and rolling off the bed. I walk over to my crate of vinyls and pull out my tame impala records and slip it out of the case. I place it onto the old black record player my grandpa gave me last summer and turn up the volume.

the familiar tune of elephant blares out into the neighborhood through my bedroom window and i basically screech along to the track.

i hear the familiar sound of a window slamming right across from my bedroom so i walk over to the window sill only to be met with an extremely agitated wyatt oleff standing in front of his now closed window. i stick my torso out the window, holding onto the ledge, and sing loudly, knowing he can still hear me through the thin glass. he flips me off and slumps away to another part of the room.

i chuckle to myself, turning off the record; reaching down to grab a random vinyl and place it on the table. the tune starts up and i can practically hear wyatts groan, as the familiar tune of bad reputation by joan jett starts playing. i smile and jump on my bed belting the lyrics.

i dance around my bed and quickly grap the brush on my bed side table using it as a microphone. the sound of his window opening can barely be heard over my music, but i look over and see wyatts friends all grouped around the window trying not to laugh. i hop off my bed and turn the music down before walking over to stand at my bedroom window.

"hello losers." i grin at them over dramatically.

"hey, actually," wyatt says, looking the most annoyed, "i was wondering if you could do this neighborhood a favor and turn off your damn music for a day." i roll my eyes.

"don't act like you don't love my beautiful singing, oleff." i say matter-of-factly.

"that's where you're wrong, v." he says sweetly giving me a fake smile. "i'm not acting." he automatically drops his smile and gives me a blank expression.

"oh really?" i say, resting my elbow on the windowsill, and my chin in my hand; basically sophia's typical jaeden-gazing position.

"yes, really." he says grumpily. "now, turn it down. please?" he adds sarcastically at the end. i just shrug, turn the volume up more, and go back to dancing. this time i don't hear his window close again.