I blocked his number.
However that hasn't stopped him from finding other ways to text me, from Instagram DM's to Discord messages. I was so over it. All that time I kept defending him, calling him a calm guy, a cool guy and yet here he is trying to make me leave Miya for him. As if he's doing me a favor.
Miya was right when he said not to text him. Miya was right when he said Oliver was bad news.
Dammit I hate when Miya is right. But I'm not a sore loser... I think.
Right now I am lying on my bed contemplating everything in my life. A bag of gummy worms on my right as I curled up in bed. It was getting dark out and I hadn't returned anyone's messages in nearly a whole day. I realized how boring my life is without anyone else in it. It's such an odd, melancholy feeling when you realize how stagnant your future is.
No goals, no real purpose. Just text, skate, and repeat. Maybe I am spiraling maybe I'm losing my fucking mind, but suddenly everything felt so obsolete.
Knock Knock!
I looked up at the doorway, seeing Miya standing there with a confused look on his face. Behind him was Reki and his bandaged arm, obviously alongside Langa.
"Y/n, where the hell have you been," Reki cut through everyone else, running over to my aide and crashing down on the bed next to me. Langa slowly stepped in with an armful of movies and something else I couldn't care to find out what, "I've been texting you forever and no response. I was starting to think you died."
"I just didn't feel well today," I mumbled through a mouthful of gummy worms.
"Bullshit," Langa squinted his eyes at me and started poking at my face, "You're hiding something."
"Bitch-"
Miya sat down at my bedside near my feet, placing down a plastic bag, "You are. I can see it in your eyes... ew, your bed is covered in crumbs-"
"It exfoliates my skin," I groaned, "Now leave me alone." I pulled the blanket over my head and curled into my pile of stuffed animals at the corner of my bed.
"Y/n! C'mon bro! Get up! Let's go skate! It'll take your mind off whatever it is that's making you a slug," Langa pulled at my arm, unsuccessfully dragging me off my bed. I stuck the finger at him, then began vigorously kicking my feet.
"Slug, come one, you're freaking us out," Reki dramatically whined as he wrapped his arms around me, preventing me from kicking my legs at Langa.
"I am emo today."
"You're emo everyday- Ow!" Reki got a hard slap in the head from me.
Miya jumped on top of my body, crushing me as he kissed my cheek repeatedly as if it was some unknown healing magic, "Tell" Kiss "Me" Kiss "What" Kiss "Is" Kiss "Wrong!"
I pointed to my phone that sat dormant on my bedside table, finally giving into the boys obnoxious pleads, "Check my phone."
Miya grabbed it and rolled onto the floor, leaning his back on my bed, "Oliver?"
I nodded as Reki crawled over me to look at the screen. Langa peered from above as he still pried at me to get up. There was a moment of silence as they read the messages soaking it up one by one. I saw them rereading and then pause.
"What the actual fuck?" Miya spoke first.
"Olive oil you fucking lunatic!" Reki sat up angrily as he adjusted his headband, "That fucker is trying to manipulate you out of our friendship!"
Langa huffed loudly and flopped down beside me, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, "Fucking asshole, no good wannabe bitch. Fucking Oli London has no chill."
"I know you said not to text him Miya but my curiosity got the best of me and I just-"
"I'm gonna kill that motherfucker!" Miya yelled at nothing.
"I won't stop you," Reki shrugged and then looked up at me, "Told you not to trust Olive Oil."
"I'll listen to you next time, bruv," I couldn't help but smile as the three boys angrily rambled on with each other.