When Oliver picked me up the next morning, he appeared restless and tired all the same. His eyelids hung low, dark circles beneath, as if he hadn’t slept a wink. Baked goods in one hand, a plastic bag full of other, random goodies in the other. 

“I don’t know about this,” he mumbled, twisting the bag back and forth around his finger. 

“Wasn’t it your idea?” I giggled, realizing he got cold feet. Just last night, he’d texted me, wondered whether it would be a good idea to bring Mikey some gifts. He said he remembered sodas he always drank, and snacks he always ate. 

But now, it seemed, Oliver felt silly. “It was,” he whispered as his eyes stuck to the bag he had brought. “There is no way this is good enough. Some drinks, and some chocolate — how is that supposed to make anything better?”

“It’s not,” I said straight-up. “But it’ll show him you put the effort in to apologize, and that you remembered those things about him.” We began walking, heading towards the school, and I nibbled on the danish he’d brought me, sharing it with him. 

“I remember he had a switch he always played on in his breaks. I …” He didn’t continue, but I could already figure out what had happened. “Couldn’t I buy him a new one? That would be better, no?” 

“I’m not too sure,” I mumbled, chewing on my pastry. “You know, flaunting your money. He was already pissed, because he thinks you only ever get warnings because your family has money. If you come along with a brand-new gaming console, it’ll just feel like your bragging, and supporting those claims, you know?” 

“But … if it’s a gift…” 

“I understand, Oliver, but I don’t think it’ll work as well as you’d want it to.” 

Oliver grumbled, and scratched the back of his head, too overwhelmed with all of this. 

“Maybe it would be better if I just stay away,” he continued on, back-tracking an entire conversation we’d had the night before via text, a constant back-and-forth between Oliver’s wish to somehow apologize, and the fear he carried about doing so. 

“And I don’t even know what to say,” Oliver sighed.

“You’ll figure it out when you’re there,” I smiled. “You’re over-thinking.” 

“Can you blame me…?” he whispered, lowering his head. Drooping, sulking, as adorable as he was, I saw absolutely no possibility anyone wouldn’t accept his apology. But of course, I had a unique view on Oliver, and not everyone would agree. 

“Whatever happens, at least you tried, Oliver,” I mumbled. “We can’t force him to forgive you. This is entirely up to Mikey.” 

“Yeah…” 

“Just relax,” I smiled, slowing my steps. Oliver followed right away, until we came to a still-stand a few minutes away from school. I pinched at his cheeks, and tapped my finger against his nose, only for him to flinch and furrow his brows at me in confusion. 

“Try not to look so frowny,” I giggled.

“That’s just my face…” 

“No, it’s not. You’ve got a handsome smile, you should use it more.” 

Oliver turned into a flustered mess right after, shuffling around on his feet as his red ears perked up and twitched in response. 

“I’ll try,” he whispered, and my smile grew. 

We continued on walking towards the school, and once we reached the destined classroom Mikey was in, once more, Oliver’s feet froze on the spot as he stared at me, helplessly, unsure of what to do. 

“Can’t you come with me?” 

“That defeats the whole purpose, you know? He needs to know it was your idea. If I come with you, he’ll think I forced you.” 

Oliver grumbled, knowing I was in the right. With both hands, he held onto the goodies he’d brought with him, terrified of entering the full, loud classroom of the 11th grade. 

“Maybe I should do it later,” he said, trying to rush past me all the sudden, wishing to drag me with him. 

I couldn’t help but laugh, both my hands clinging onto his arm as I pulled him back towards the door. “We’re already here,” I chuckled. “Come on, you got this.” 

And I quite literally shoved him into the classroom, which he didn’t protest at all. He stumbled into the loud room, all conversation ceasing as soon as they noticed him. I felt bad for having thrown Oliver into the cold water like this, with the awkward way he stood there, but he had to get out of his comfort zone a little if he wanted to apologize. 

Mikey sat in the front row of the room, and immediately noticed Oliver. But he lowered his gaze, wishing not to get noticed when Oliver approached him, only to drop the bag of goodies right onto the desk in front of Mikey. 

I hissed, my hands rushing into my hair as I clenched my eyes shut. The loud clunk with which the cans and snacks had dropped onto the desk had literally made me flinch. 

Oliver, be a little gentler, come on! I knew he was all stiff, all tensed up and nervous, but … he had to relax a little. That angry growl on his face didn’t help at all! Anyone would think he came here to bully once again!

“It’s for you,” Oliver grumbled in a deep voice only I knew was the tone he used whenever he was too shy to speak up. To everyone else, it must have sounded rather threatening. 

I gnawed at my nails as I watched, awkwardly hunched outside the door frame, trying not to get seen. 

Mikey’s mind must have been in a jumble. “I don’t have any money,” he said, pushing the bag back towards Oliver. His fingers trembled as he did so, the shiver intensified when Oliver pushed the bag back into Mikey’s direction, one of the soda cans falling right into his lap. 

“Just take it.” 

I practically face-palmed myself. I knew Oliver wasn’t the best at using words, especially when he apologized. I remembered him giving me gummy bears in the same, hostile manner. 

Rather perplexed, Mikey picked up the can that had dropped onto his legs, realizing it was his favorite flavor of cherry-coke. 

“I’m sorry, okay?” Oliver, seriously … ease down that tone, just a little bit. I know you can! 

“Huh?” 

“I’m sorry…” 

“You’re sorry?” Mikey repeated in a confused tone, and his entire class stared, whispering to each other. 

Oliver cleared his throat, lips pouting, as he built up all his strength for an actual apology, which I wasn’t entirely sure could be classified as such. 

“I’m a piece of shit, and I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I’ll do anything to make it up to you, so if there’s anything you want me to do…”

“Are you serious?”

Oliver rubbed his neck. “Yeah… I know it’s probably useless, but I just … Sorry.” 

“You—You mean it?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You’ll do anything?”

Oliver nodded. 

“Toby, and your other friends … they still wait for me sometimes, after school,” Mikey mumbled, lowering his gaze onto all the snacks Oliver had brought him, too much for one person to eat alone. 

“Okay. I’ll deal with it,” Oliver said right away, and I wasn’t sure what he meant with that, or perhaps I worried that I did know. “I’ll make sure they leave you alone. If they don’t, just let me know.”

“Um … okay? Thank you?” Mikey was completely flabbergasted, and everyone in his class rushed towards him as Oliver left the room, all to see what he had gotten as peace offerings inside that plastic bag. 

I smiled up at Oliver as he returned to me. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He continued rubbing his blushing neck. “It was kind of awkward. But … Yeah, I’m glad I did it.”

Later that day, though, he still appeared to be sulking. Or he sulked, again, for something else he’d set his mind on as he grumbled, scribbling ugly sketches onto his papers. 

“What is it?” I whispered towards him in the middle of class. 

Oliver buzzed, as if he didn’t want to answer, but it crawled out of him, nonetheless. It became easier and easier, with every passing day, to get him to speak up. “I’m just … Hm. After this Friday, it’s fall break.” 

“A whole week no school! Isn’t that great? Any plans?” 

Oliver shook his head, lowering it all the same, his fingers scratching across his scalp. The next few words, he didn’t dare say out loud, and I watched him write in wobbly handwriting onto his paper before shoving it in my direction. 

Will I get to see you during break?

I giggled, reached for my ballpoint pen, and continued the conversation. His dark eyes clung to me, pleading and soft. 

That’s what you’re worried about?

Beside me, Oliver nodded with a gulp. 

We can meet up whenever you want. Don’t worry, I answered, grinning from ear to ear, butterflies going crazy inside my stomach. 

Oliver continued, but he hid his writing for me until he finished, only for his tiny written words force an explosion out of my heart, with it unable to ever recover.

I’ll still miss you … And what followed past those words, a tiny, scribbled heart. Crooked, one side larger than the other, but it was still a heart, drawn by the giant Oliver beside me, whose size couldn’t contain all the adorableness he carried within him. 

Another giggle escaped me as I blushed all over, shaking my head, unsure of how to react. 

I’ll miss you too, so you better invite me out as much as you can. I also drew a heart, right next to Olivers, and as he slid his notebook back to himself, all he did was smile and stare at the heart I’d drawn for him, hypnotized by it.