I had a really weird dream that night. It was like a freaky clip show of all the good times Oliver and I have had together. Surfing, skating, mucking around at school, getting smashed off our faces and suffering the consequences the morning after. That time we found a corn chip that looked exactly like Darth Vader. We've had heaps of good times, and I didn't want that to stop. If I started dating Oliver, would life just carry on as usual? Would we just do the stuff we normally did, with the added bonus of an occasional snuggle? I wish I knew.
The dream ended really badly. It was just Oliver standing there. Staring blankly into oblivion. He was crying. I tried calling out to him, to comfort him, to tell him everything was going to be all right. He just took a step forward and disappeared into the darkness.
I woke in a cold sweat. What a cuckoo dream. It was 3 in the morning, and I was really freaked out. I fumbled around in the dark for my cell phone, knocking my iPod speakers off my bedside table in the process. "Fuck!" I swore under my breath. I finally grasped my phone and pressed the familiar speed dial buttons. I held my breath as I anxiously listened to the ringing.
"Mmphrglcy?" I heard a groggy voice mumble. I sighed with relief.
"Oliver, it's me."
"Lilly? What's the matter? Are you okay?" He sounded worried. What the hell was the matter with me? Was I okay? Why was I calling my best friend at this ungodly hour?
"I need to see you." I whispered delicately.
"Sure. Be there in five." Click. No questions, no nothing. Oliver was willing to come to my house in the dead of night because I called him on a whim. That's friendship. I tiptoed over to my door and unhooked the latch, then crept back into bed to wait.
True to his word, five minutes later there was a soft tapping and the gentle swishing sound of the sliding door being opened.
"Lils?" Oliver whispered, stepping into the room and sliding the door shut behind him. I practically flew to his shodowy form in the darkness, and glued my arms tightly around his neck, panting heavily. "Whoh, whoh, Lilly! What's wrong?"
"I have no idea!" I whispered gravely.
Oliver picked me up and I locked my legs tightly around his waist. He took a couple of steps, then gently lowered our entwined forms onto my bed, so he was leaning against my bolsters, and I was awkwardly sitting on top of him, my legs still encasing his waist and my face pushed firmly in his chest, breathing him in. I inhaled deeply, taking in as much as I could of this wonderful boy who had left the comfort of his warm bed to aid his hopeless and possibly clinically insane friend.
"Don't ever leave me." I whimpered.
Oliver pulled back from our embrace and looked at me with concern. "I would never leave you, Lil. Why would you think that?" He sounded hurt.
"I had a really bad dream. You left me. After all the fun we've had together, I hurt you and you left me. I don't want to hurt you, Oliver."
He sighed and lifted his hands to my face, running his thumbs over my cheeks. "I know you would never intentionally do me any harm, Lilly. You just have to give us a chance. If you never try then you'll never know" He mumbled faintly.
"I know I wouldn't mean to hurt you, but I don't exactly have a track record of being a good girlfriend. In fact, I'm kind of a sucky girlfriend. I'd never call you, or remember any important dates, and I'm hopelessly lazy in the commitment factor." I sighed.
"Nothing would have to change. I'm not looking for commitment, Lils. All I want is a chance to be with you, to be able to kiss you whenever I want, wherever I want. Fuck the consequences. All I want is you." He whispered fiercely. His hands tightened around my waist.
I raised my eyes to meet his. The same passion and desire was burning in them, and I melted in their heat. He was so right. We did fit. We knew each other inside out and still thought we were the most spectacular people on Earth.
Everything I have been looking for had been right in front of me the whole time.
How disgustingly clichéd. It made me want to turn and run. To scream NO! Things like this don't happen in real life! It could never work! But sitting here in the dark with Oliver, our limbs intertwined, breathing in perfect time, it felt real. What we felt was real. Oliver deserved to feel like this. We both did.
The tension between us was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Our faces were no more than 2 inches away from each other. I could feel his warm breath on my face. I licked my lips nervously. Oliver's eyes begged for permission to close the gap, to push his lips against mine, what he had be aching, craving to do for so long. He didn't have to ask. I lifted my hand and stroked his jaw line with my fingertips, feeling just a grazing of stubble. I ran my hand down to his chest as I leaned in, feeling his heartbeat through his thin t-shirt. Deep breath…
Our lips meet.
A rush of air leaves our lungs.
His arms enclose around me, pulling me closer.
My fingers curl into his shirt, bunching it in my fist.
We break apart. "Wow." We whisper simultaneously.
I grab him by the collar and pull him in to another lip lock. I run my fingers through his hair and let out a tiny giggle as I feel his tongue brush against mine. He grins against my mouth and pulls me down on top of him, so we both lay horizontally on my bed. I break the kiss and sit up, straddling him.
He groans. "No fair. How come you get to be on top?"
I just smile as I trace circles on the translucent skin just below his wrists. He fiddles with the string ties at the waist of my pyjama pants. "I was always more bossy than you" I tease.
"But I know your weak spots in more detail…" he responds, and runs a cold finger across the bare patch of skin above my pants and below my belly button, and I give an involuntary shiver. "Told you." he smirks as he places a hand behind my neck and pulls me down to kiss his lips once again.
Oliver's hands explore the contours of my body. The curves of my back, breasts, butt. I liquefy at his touch, melting into his arms. I can't resist it. At this moment, with this feeling, there isn't anything else I would rather be doing, or anywhere else I would rather be.
"Lilly?" Oliver pauses, unsure of what he is going to say next. "Uh...will…um…you…me…us?" He searches my face desperately to see if I can comprehend what he's trying to ask me. I do.
"No." I state. His face falls. "YES!" I exclaim as quietly as I can.
He just laughs and rolls me off his stomach. We lie face to face, pressing our foreheads together. "EMILIO!!" we both whisper-yell, and fall into silent hysterics.
"Dork" He snorts.
"Idiot" I retaliate.
"Just coz you're having problems, that's no reason to refer to my intellectual capacity in a diminutive manner" He feigns indignity as I try to blow strands of loose hair off my face.
Oliver pushes my hair behind my ear and smiles softly at me, tracing the back of his hand across my cheek.
"Did you just grab my ass?"
"Lilly, from where I am, that's a physical impossibility"
"Oh, I know your tricks, Oliver"
We descend into giggles once again. I am all worn out, I heave a sigh. Content with life, with Oliver, with everything, all I want to do now is sleep. Oliver has the same tired look on his face.
"I should go" he mumbles and gets up off my bed.
I sit up abruptly. "Why?" I demand.
"Uh, because if my mom doesn't find me in my bed tomorrow morning she will send out her entire squadron looking for me? Not to mention what your mom will do if she finds me in here!"
"So what? We're big kids now. Tell your mom you woke up early and went for a walk on the beach or something" I say like its simplest thing in the world.
"In my pyjamas?" he says doubtfully.
"You've been weirder places in your jammies, Oliver" I remind him. Once in the second grade, his mother got sick of waiting for him to get dressed after he had been playing video games all morning, so she dropped him off at school in his Buzz Lightyear pyjamas. True story.
"Hmm. What about your mom?" he challenges.
"Pssh, it's a Sunday, like anyone in my family will be up by midday." I shrug.
He bites his lip, then sighs. "I guess" he mutters, and scrambles under the covers of my bed with me as I beam at him.
Once we have sorted out a comfortable arrangement of blankets and pillows for the both of us, I snuggle up to Oliver and he wraps one arm around my shoulder as I place my head on his chest. We lay silently for a minute or two, and I begin to doze off as Oliver strokes my arm gently. I knew I wasn't going to have any more bad dreams tonight. His motions with his fingers cease, I hear him breathe steadily, deeply, and he is asleep in my arms.
I try to clear my head before I follow him into slumber. How did this even happen? My mind is still reeling. This doesn't even seem real. In this world full of corporate cynicism and commercial falsities, Oliver and I managed to find something in ourselves that is so true. Jim Morrison was right when he said "That's what real love amounts to – letting a person be what they really are. Most people love you for who you pretend to be. We're locked in an image, an act."
Maybe that's why I fell for Oliver so suddenly. We had 14 years of friendship to back us up. I knew who he was. He knew who I was. We didn't need reason.
We just love.
Sorry for replacing this chapter, but I just wasn't happy with the ending, it didn't sit right with me. It didn't help that I wrote it at 2 in the morning the day after I got off an international flight and hadn't slept in over 24 hours. So I think it's a lot better now! Review and tell me what you think!