Page 41 of The Other Half

“I’m leaving,” I say defiantly.

“What?”

“I’m going to find a way to get out of here. I’m leaving and I’m never coming back to this house.”

She sighs. “You’re still in high school, you can’t just leave.”

“I’m eighteen, I can if I want to.”

She shakes her head again. “I know it’s hard. I know he can be an asshole. But you can’t leave, what will you do? Drop out of school?”

“You’re not going to stop me,” I spit.

“Oakley, you’re going to college next year. You’re going to get away, and meet new people, and you won’t have to see your dad but every once in a while anyway. You’re mad right now, and I get that, but don’t screw up your future over it,” she says earnestly, looking into my eyes.

“He says I’m not allowed to see Oliver ever again.”

“I know.” She nods slowly. “But honey, maybe that’s for the best.” She shrugs and gives me a pitying look.

I gawk at her. “Why? Just because he isn’t rich like us?”

“He has you sneaking around at night and smoking pot, is he really a good influence? There will be lots of boys, Oakley. This isn’t the one for you.”

“He hasn’t pressured me to do anything I didn’t want to do. I’ve made those choices on my own.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Well, you’re going to be at Angelwood next year anyway. I’m assuming he’s not going to be going there, how would that work?”

“It doesn’t matter! I don’t care about fucking Angelwood! That was never my idea, it was Dad’s,” I shout. “I’m going to be with him. I don’t care what either of you think.” I snap my mouth shut before I can say anything else. “Just… Please leave me alone. I want to be alone.”

She stares at me for a few more beats, then gets up and leaves my room silently.

* * *

The next morning I frantically search for Oliver’s auburn curls through the crowd when I walk into school. I spot him sitting at his usual lunch table with Rodney and Amber, with a despondent and faraway look on his face.

I rush over to him and he notices me. He stands up and slowly stalks toward me until we meet in the middle.

“We need to talk,” I say.

“Yeah,” he replies, looking down at the floor.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver.” I try to keep the tears from flowing but I can’t stop them. I wrap my arms around his waist and cry into his chest, but I don’t feel his arms hug me back. Instead his whole body becomes more stiff. I pull away from him, realizing he doesn’t want to be touched. “Are you angry at me?” I wince.

He shakes his head, still avoiding eye contact. “No.”

I search his face for signs of anger but it’s not there, instead I only find resolute apathy. “I had no idea he would find out who you were. I didn’t tell him anything.”

“I know you didn’t.” He finally meets my eyes.

I try to smile, but it feels wrong. There’s nothing to smile about. “I’m going to move out. I’ll get a job and find a place to rent. Maybe we can find a place together once you start working and split the cost,” I ramble as I reach for his hand, but he pulls it away.

He scowls and shakes his head defiantly. “What?” He asks incredulously, in the same tone he used to speak to me when we first met. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t care what my dad says, Oliver, I’m still going to be with you,” I stammer.

“No. Oakley…no.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and breaks our eye contact again, looking anywhere but at me. The sound of the first bell blares all around us and the crowd of students begin walking past us, a few stopping to gawk at our melodrama.

I keep staring at him, waiting for something to happen. What does he mean “no”? I know it isn’t ideal, but we can make it work.

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