Bad Boys Do Cry

7: Doesn't Mean Good

I love the smell that fills my senses. Coffee.

Oliver and I are currently at a café in the middle of town. It's warm and cozy and the hot chocolate in my hands really helps bring it all together. The waitress sets down a piece of coffee cake in front of me and a blueberry muffin in front of Oliver. His came with a napkin with writing, while mine didn't even come with a fork.

Oliver grabs the napkin and smirks at something before getting up without a word. Bye, Oliver Grey. He comes back and sets a fork by my cake and no napkin to be seen.

I look up to his eyes and they're still cold and icy blue. He grabs his black coffee and takes a long sip, his eyes still on mine. I set my hot chocolate down, not breaking the eye contact. He then grabs his muffin and starts biting into it. I do the same with my coffee cake. My eyes start burning as I haven't blinked in quite a while, but I'm not about to lose this staring contest. Not to Oliver Grey.

He keeps switching between a sip of coffee and a bite of muffin. I just keep chewing on my cake. This is really good cake.

I'm reaching for my hot chocolate when I accidentally tip it over slightly. I break the eye contact and blink quickly to grab the mug just in time before all of its content spills out.

When I look back up Oliver is smirking in victory. I frown and eat my last big of cake.

"No fair."

"Life ain't fair, sweetie."

And with that pet name I feel my stomach turn in a weird way. Shut up, don't be a cliché.

"Do you remember," I begin, but then I drift off.

I question if I should talk to him or not. He's a man of few words and I don't want to annoy him with my many. But then again, I don't care what Oliver thinks of me and I finish my thought. Although I keep my eyes set on my hot chocolate, not wanting to see his judgements face.

"Third grade. When you pulled my chair out from under me."

Everything is quiet on Oliver's end. He doesn't say anything so I decide to look up. There's amusement in his eyes and when he catches me looking he nods his head.

"And then I spilled water on your crotch. You told the whole grade I had cooties. I told them you were superhero. Which in hindsight, I should've known would've made you more popular."

Oliver nods and finally speaks up, "I told them I was batboy, batman's other sidekick. They called me Oliver the Great for the rest of the year."

My eyes go wide at how long he spoke for, but I keep it together and keep the conversation going, "They call you that now too, for different reasons though."

Oliver smirks and shrugs his shoulders, "They call you Hazel the Prude."

My smile falters a little at the name and I stay quiet only nodding. Oliver looks at me intensely but says nothing nor makes any move to do anything. After a while of silence he just stands up and makes his way to the door, opening it and looking at me. I take it as a signal that we're leaving so I make my way. He keeps the door open to me and we walk back to his car. He stays behind me, silent, but his shadow casts over me.

"Great," He begins when we're both in the car.

He looks front and not of his hands are on the wheel. His knuckles are turning white from how tight he's grabbing the steering wheel.

"Doesn't mean good."

I look up at him and then back down to my hands. Good? I don't get what he means but he doesn't look like he wants to keep talking about it, talking at all really.

I stay looking at my hands the rest of the ride. It's silent, no music, no talking. Oliver's knuckles are still white and his eyes have been hard set on the road the whole time. Yet, I feel the need to comfort him. I know pain all too well, and those words were filled with it.

My hand reaches up to his own and I start rubbing my thumb over his knuckles, trying to get him to relax. He slightly does when he leans his head against the headrest and breathes out. I'm about to take my hand away when Oliver smoothly flips his hand and traps my wrist, his eyes still on the road. I take the hint and keep my hand over his as it returns to the steering wheel. My thumb brushing over his knuckles that aren't white anymore.

When he finally parks we're in front of the boys' school, almost time for their final bell to ring. Oliver kills the engine and when he does
I drop my hand back to my lap. I'm about to speak up when a hoard of little kids come pouring out. I get out of the car and put my smile on to greet the boys that come running towards me when they spot me.

"Is that Oliver?" Braden asks.

I nod my head, "Yes."

"Awesome!" Braden smiles and runs towards the car.

Someone isn't that shy anymore.

I look down to Ben who's still beside me, "What's up, Ben?"

"Are you guys dating?"

I shake my head, "No."

"Not yet, that's what Oliver said."

I shake my head and laugh as I open the door for Ben to get in. When I get in, Braden and Oliver are already deep in conversation.

"She said I was cute and so I started chasing her with a sharpie."

Oliver smiles slightly, "I did that once too."

"You did?" Braden asks intrigued.

"Yeah, to your sister."

I snap my head to Oliver, my eyes going wide that he one, remembered that and two, brought it up to my younger brother.

"Really?"

Oliver just nods his head so I take over the conversation, "Technically, he chased me because I told him he had a booger hanging from his nose."

Braden and Ben start dying of laughter. I look to Oliver who's already driving and paying attention to the road. The smirk on his face tells me he remembers that day and that's all the satisfaction I need.

Because he did have a booger hanging from his nose and he didn't get rid of it for the whole day just to make a point. He's stubborn like that, and I bet you he's even more stubborn now.