❦ WINNER OF THE RIVETING WRITING CONTEST ❦
OLIVER IS DYING
With only months left to live at just seventeen, Oliver spends his remaining days of endless tests and debilitating drugs in the St. Andrews paediatrics ward planning his impending funeral...
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HOW could I have been so stupid?
Come to this party. It'll be fun. Live a little.
I was supposed to keep an eye on him. That's what you do with friends who are new to scenes you've been to hundreds of times before—you attach them to your hip so they don't do anything stupid.
I wasn't just expected to keep an eye on him. I was expected to keep him safe.
I don't know if he sees it that way, but I sure did.
And I did a shit job at it. I fucked up.
I didn't even realize he was gone until Cam mentioned it.
"Hey, Nick, where's your friend gone?" he'd said.
I'd looked around for him, but it was like he'd disappeared out of thin air.
I was already running up the stairs when I noticed Dan wasn't on the couch either.
Dan has always been a bit of a difficult case to crack. I suppose that's the nicest way I can put it.
I've always known him to be a wild child, and even that's an understatement. I've always kind of known him to swing whatever way he wants on any day he wants, as politically incorrect and insensitive as that sounds (take a ticket, get in line, sue me).
I guess he's one of those people that doesn't want to slap a label on himself, and that's cool.
What's not cool is trying to get it on with a sick kid who said no. That I'll never forgive Dan for.
He crossed the line. In fact, he didn't just cross it. He was past it and was onto the finish line of the next fucked up conquest he was willing to take on.
I didn't think it was a great idea to take Oliver straight home. The last thing he needed was the nurses to freak out over his panic attack, despite having calmed down now.
So, I thought of the next best thing. He did enjoy the last time we set foot on one, after all.
The moon is the only source of light across the ocean's water as we walk along the beach.
Oliver looks more relaxed now, but he hasn't said a word since he begged me to get him out of the party.
I offer him another glance, the fourth in about ten seconds. I can't see his eyes, the wind sweeping his hair but not enough to be able to see those orbs of sea green.
"I'm sorry," I say. "This is all my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to come." I scowl. "And Dan...I..."
"You said I hate it when people apologize."
He stops walking. I stop, too, and I face him straight on.
He looks up at me, those eyes so fragile that I'm kicking myself for not stopping Dan sooner. That I'm totally in the wrong for not noticing they were gone earlier.
