The Apple Tree

[Disclaimer: I do not own A.N.T. Farm or any characters.]

Set in the year 2015


Love is weird, hm?

It's like one moment you think you'll only ever be "just friends" and you can't even imagine being with the person. And the next moment, love slaps you in the face.

And if any of you know, a slap in the face hurts.

You know the saying about girls being the apples on the tree? And boys are too afraid to reach the good ones, so they take to rotten ones that fell. But someday, a brave boy will climb to the very top of the tree and pick the good apples.

But I don't think that's true. I think the good boys are too innocent to notice the good apples have feelings for them.

And maybe I don't want a brave boy! Maybe I want an artistic genius that's in love with my best friend!

But whatever, right? I still have to wait for that stupid, brave boy to climb the damn tree.

What's taking him so long? Why hasn't he noticed I'm at top waiting for him?


"Olive!" I heard Chyna calling me from her locker. "Olive! Come here!"

I close my locker, careful not to shut it on the picture of all three of us- Chyna, Fletcher, and I- when we were first starting the A.N.T. program four years ago. We were all so young and vulnerable to the evils of high school at the tender age of twelve.

"Hey." I greeted plainly. Chyna was on her A.N.T. pad, sending a forwarded message. "What's that?"

"My birthday invites!" She squealed excitedly. "I'm turning sixteen in two weeks so my dad's throwing me a party!"

Chyna had changed since we were twelve, and then again so had he. And Myself, I suppose. She was still beautiful (and way prettier than I was) but she had grown a good amount. Her styles had changed slightly; she wore heels more now and curled her hair more often. She had the same big brown eyes and perky attitude as ever, though.

"That's awesome!" I cheered with her.

She grinned, ecstatic. "I know! I can't wait to tell Fletcher!"

And there was his name again. Fletcher Quimby, with his stupid skinny jeans and mob of brown hair. Fletcher had shot way past Chyna and me as he stood 5'11. His blue eyes excited and inspired by everything he saw.

And me, Olive Doyle. With the plain blonde hair and dull blue eyes were nothing in comparison to Chyna. So of course he would notice her and not me. And paint her and not me. So why should I even try?

"Yeah!" I agreed. "We should go tell him. Where is he?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound to anxious.

Chyna shrugged. "I dunno." Then sent a look of my shoulder and nodded. "Never mind." She smiled showing off her bright white teeth and waved to someone behind me.

I turned, and there he was.

Everything seemed in slow motion for me, as stupid as it sounds. He walked down the hallway, making his way to us. Every step he would take closer would make my heart beat speed up. I gulped nervously and wrung my hands.

"Hey." He smiled.

That one word took my breath away. I managed a choked, "H-hey, um I mean. He-Hello!" Then mentally slapped myself for acting stupid. Could I be anymore obvious?

"Hey Fletcher." Chyna waved casually. "Did you get my email?"

"Um…" Fletcher fished threw his backpack and drew his A.N.T. pad. Touched the mail icon and his inbox opened, he placed his finger on Chyna's email and began to read.

I sighed quietly, his hair falls in front of his eyes when he reads. His fingers rubbing the edge of the pad while he finished.

Why am I so pathetic? He's not yours, Olive! He'll always belong to Chyna! He won't love you back so stop wishing for it!

"Party!" He cheered, looking back up at us. "Cool."

"Yeah! It's two weeks from tomorrow and since you guys are the best friends, your appearance is mandatory!" Chyna declared.

We all laughed and spent a few more minutes deciding on decorations until the bell rang.

"Off to art!" I sang happily. "Come on, Fletch!" I linked arms with his.

"Bye Chyna!" We said together. "See you at lunch!" He added.

Then we skipped down the hallway; arm in arm.

I wish he knew how much moments like his meant to me. How much he meant to me.

We skidded in front of the art room door and un-linked arms to go inside.

"So what are you going to get her?" He asked me, sitting in front of his canvas.

I shrugged, "there's this purse she's been ogling over at Macy's. I think I'll get her that."

Fletcher nodded, dipping his paintbrush in the blue. "That's cool. She likes bags and stuff."

"What about you?" I asked him, stealing the blue paint from him and dipping my own brush in it.

"I think I'm going to paint her something." He decided after a few moments. "And I'm going to ask her."

My heart thumped in chest. "Ask her what?" I played dumb.

Fletcher rolled his eyes, "You know, it's been pretty obvious."

I had to be sure; there might still be hope. "What are you talking about?" I continued.

Fletcher scratched the back of his head with his free hand. "I'm going to ask her to go out with me, Olive."

And maybe there wasn't hope. "Oh." I tried to sound upbeat, but my voice cracked. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "Cool. Congrats, I guess…"

Fletcher beamed, but answered. "I haven't asked yet, but after she says yes-if she says yes- you can congratulate me."

"Well, good luck then." I wished half-heartedly. Stabbing my brush into the red paint, making it splash all over my jeans. "Shit!" I swore, jumping up from my seat.

Great, now it looks like it's my time of the month. Wonderful, what else could go wrong?

"Oh, crap." Fletcher said, but he laughed slightly. "Um, sorry. It's just funny cause-"

"Yes, I get it! I spilled red paint on my jeans and it looks like I'm on my period!" I shouted angrily. Then I noticed everyone staring and blushed.

Fletcher, who was wide-eyed at what I just said, was stuttering a reply. "I-I um, uh… s-sorry?"

I sighed, clearly irritated. "Whatever." I stomped up to the front of the class. "Miss?" I asked Ms. Ken.

"Yes dear?" She responded, not looking up from her book.

"Can I change?" I asked, and then added. "I spilled paint on my pants."

"Yes, of course dear. The nurse should have something for you."

I thanked her and headed out of the room, feeling Fletcher's eyes burning holes in the back of skull until I closed the door behind me.

I walked down the halls to the nurse's office, my converse making a "click" noise every time they hit the tile floor.

What did I do? I wondered. Why do I have to love him so much? Why can't he just be my friend?

To quote J. Geils Band, love stinks.


"Olive!" Fletcher called me. "Hey! Wait up!"

I began to walk faster, hoping he would trip and fall and let me escape. But no, that boy was just too stubborn.

"Olive!" He sprinted to catch up to me. "Olive! Stop! I'm sorry!"

I turned on my heel, surprising him. "What?"

"I'm sorry." He repeated, catching his breath. "I shouldn't have laughed at you. Can you forgive me now?" He asked, giving me puppy eyes.

"No." I stated, brushing my blonde hair behind my ear. "But thank you for the apology." I turned and continued to walk.

"Hey!" Fletcher stepped in front of me. He was clearly angry; his eyebrows were furrowed together making me want to swoon. "I'm not done talking to you!"

"Yes, but I was done with the conversation." I explained. "That's why I was walking away."

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid!" He demanded. "Why are you being such a bitch? Are you seriously PMSing?"

He did not just say that.

I shook my head, it didn't matter how much I cared about him. He can't insult me like that!

"Shit, Olive I didn't-"

"Save it!" I snapped. "Who do you think you are? Because you're not Fletcher; Fletcher is not a douche bag!"
His face went red and he scowled. "Well, when you find the real Olive, let me know! Cause it's certainly not you!"

I felt my eyes water and I ran around him and to my car.

This time, he didn't follow.


When I got home I ran up to my room stuffed my face in a pillow and bawled my eyes out.

What was wrong with me?

The truth was, I didn't think I could be around Fletcher if him and Chyna became… an item. Having him mad at me seemed better so I wouldn't have to see him all the time.

I took my cell phone out of my bag and dialed Chyna's number. After a few rings she picked up.

"Hello?" She answered.

"Chyna!" I cried, "C-c-can you come to my house? P-please?" I begged.

"Olive, what's wrong?" I could tell she was worried.

"J-just come please." I whispered.

"Okay." She said, unsure. "I'll be right there…"

Ten minutes later I heard my mom call for me.

I slumped down the stairs until she came into view. "Yes mom?"

"Chyna's here, sweetie." She took another look at my face. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, my eyes just itched." I lied.

She nodded uneasily, "Okay…" Then walked back into our library.

"Olive, what's wrong?" Chyna asked anxiously. "When you called me it sounded like you were crying!"

I shook my head and placed a finger to my lips, "Come up to my room where my mom won't hear us."

She followed me up the stairs and into my room. "Okay, now tell me what's up." She demanded as I locked the door.

"I just…" I couldn't tell her I was in love with him. What if she liked him or something? "I'm just really stressed out right now."

It was true… I just wasn't telling her why.

"Oh Olive," She sighed, hugging me. "I'm so sorry, hon." She thought for a moment then smiled. "But I think I know a solution…"

I faintly smiled and asked hopefully, "Is it cookies 'n' crème ice cream and The Notebook?"

"You read my mind!" We both laughed before I unlocked the door to retrieve the ice cream and film.


It rained all week, thunder cackled from the sky and lighting flashed. But I didn't care. I'd walk home to and to school; no umbrella, just letting the rain soaks up my sorrows.

Fletcher didn't talk to me all week. Which is what I wanted, right? But I secretly hoped he would come speak to me.

On Friday I trudged home alone again; boots filled with mud and dirt. My heart felt like it had been stepped on and stabbed repeatedly, then someone stuck it in a blender and hit the 'shred' button.

I saw my house in the distance; someone was sitting on my porch. I frowned and squinted only to see the silhouette of a guy. Maybe Angus? We have a project due in history and maybe he stopped by so we could work on it.

As I neared the house I realized it wasn't Angus sitting on my porch, but Fletcher.

I gulped and put on my game face as I stepped up the porch steps.

"Olive." He stated. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his red skinny jeans. His brown mob of hair my matted and wet because of the rain.

He still managed to look amazing.

"Hello." I sighed, trying to walk around him. When he wouldn't allow it I asked, "Can you please move? I'm trying to get in my house."

He ignored me, and asked a question of his own. "Why don't you have an umbrella?"

I shrugged, "I don't see the need for one." Shuffling awkwardly, I tried again to step around him.

This time he let me, but when I unlocked the door he followed me into the house. "Why are you here?" I demanded.

"Because," twiddled his thumbs, refusing to look me in the eye. "I miss my best friend."

I sat down on the couch in my living room, "Yeah? Well, it didn't seem I was you best friend when you called me a bitch the other day!"

He flinched, "You know I didn't mean that." He spoke softly. "I'm sorry, okay? Why can't you just forgive me?"

"'Cause…" I drawled, trying to think of something to say. "I don't want to."

Fletcher scoffed, "You're a horrible liar, you know that."

I gave him a small smile, "Yeah. I know."

"You smiled!" He pointed out. "I win."

I laughed and shook my head, I could never stay mad at him anyways.

He raised an eyebrow, "Well? Give me a hug!" He demanded.

I stood and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry, Fletcher." I sighed into his shoulder.

He pulled away and shrugged, "whatever, right?" The corners of his lips turned up wards as he added, "You're always going to be my best friend, Olive."

I suppose he said that to comfort me, but it just made me want to cry.

Fletcher stayed for another hour before leaving, we played video games and ate junk food.

"So I was thinking," Fletcher started.

"Wow! Really?" I gasped sarcastically, "Your mom must be so proud!"

He rolled his eyes as I laughed, "Shut up and let me finish."

I held my hands up in surrender, but continued to laugh.

"I was thinking, we could go to the mall and pick up that purse for Chyna you wanted." He declared.

I nodded, "Yeah. Okay."

"Awesome!" He grinned, "I need some new paints for my painting."

"Oh." My heart dropped. "Yeah."

He was always thinking about her. Chyna this, Chyna that! Blah! Blah! Blah!

"I'll pick you up at one, okay?" He looked at me hopefully.

"Yeah. One. Cool. See ya." I waved and added, "Bye, now."

He gave me a weird look before waving and walking to his car.


I finished tying the laces on my gray converse. Fletcher should be here any minute to pick me up.

I stood up and looked in the mirror, frowning at what stared back at me. My blonde hair was so thin when I tried to straighten it, it curled back up again. The scar from when I fell of my bike one time rested under my chin. And finally, my dull blue eyes stared lazily into the mirror.

I could see why Fletcher would like Chyna and not me.

The doorbell rang, interrupting my thoughts. I quickly dragged a brush threw my hair one last time before rushing over to the door and tugging it open.

"Er, hi!" I smiled when Fletcher's face was revealed from behind the door.

"Hello!" He chirped happily, he was wearing his favorite blue skinny jeans and black vans were loosely tied on his feet. His brown hair was messy and uncombed, but he made it work somehow. "Ready to go?"

I nodded, "Mhm." I stepped out of the house, closing the door behind me.

We hopped in his old, beat up, and blue Honda he'd gotten from his dad.

"You know Honda was named after its founder, Soichiro Honda?" I informed him.

"More useless knowledge from Olive!" Fletcher announced, "You should have your own TV show!"

"Oh, shut up!" I laughed, "I was just trying to be informative!"

"And next time I need to tell someone who founded my car I will appreciate that," Fletcher chuckled, "But for now, I'll just make fun of it!"

"Your mean." I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Aw, did I make you upset?" I nodded, trying not to laugh. "Okay, I'm sorry."

"I forgive you… I guess." I sighed.

After a few more minutes of driving, we arrived at the mall.

"So what store are we going to?" Fletcher asked.

"Macy's." I answered, speeding up when finding the big sign. "This way."

Fletcher trailed behind me as I hastily made my way to the bags section. "You memorized where it was?"

"Obviously." I scoffed, "It's hard to forget when you remember everything."

"Oh, yeah…" Fletcher shrugged.

"And, if they didn't move it, it should be… right… here!" I picked up the purple bag. "Found it!"

"Cool." Fletcher said, "Now where's the counter…"

"Follow me."

"You memorized where it is?"

I shook my head and sighed, he never will learn.


"To the art store!" Fletcher sang.

"Can we get some lunch first?"

Fletcher sighed dramatically but agreed. "As long as we get Chinese food! It's my-"

"Favorite." I finished for him. "I know." He stared at me and I blushed. "Um, so… to the food court!"

"Yeah!" Fletcher yelled earning weird looks from everyone passing by. "What? Is there something on my face?" He asked one.

Besides your amazing features? No.

I pulled him towards the food court, "Come on!"

We put our stuff down at a random table, "I'll get our food." He informed me.

I shrugged, "Okay."

I watched as he walked into the line in front of Chopsticks. He stood there, a big, goofy smile on his face as he waved to me from the line.

I giggled slightly and waved back, my pulse picking up slightly.

The things that boy did to me.

He returned with a full tray of food a few moments later. "Ta-da!" He announced, sitting across from me. "Chinese food for two!"

"Yay. Noodles."

I slurped up some noodles before Fletcher began to speak. "So I have this really cool idea for the painting I'm going to give Chyna…"

I kind of tuned out after that. It's hard to listen to him talk about my best friend in ways I wish he would talk about me. And every time I think of him my heart picks up speed and I think of that stupid apple tree. I'm only sixteen, there's plenty of time before the brave boy comes along and climbs the tree to find me! Right?

Unless… Fletcher is my brave boy, but he doesn't want to pick this apple because he's spotted a prettier one. Who can sing. And not answer stupid ass questions no one's asking like I do. So why would he need an all right apple when he can have a beautiful one?

"Hello! Olive!" Fletcher waved his hand in front of my face. "Have you paid attention at all?" He asked crossly.

"Not really." I answered truthfully. "Sorry."

He sighed and smiled, "It's forgotten. Are you done? I want to hit up the art store now!"

"Yeah, I'm done." I stood and dumped my tray in the nearest trashcan.

"Come on, Olive!" Fletcher beckoned me at the exit of the food court. "Let's go!" He yelled, dragging the 'o'.

I rushed to catch up with him and we began to walk to the Art Store.

"So what was so important you had to tune me out, anyways?" He asked, curiosity swimming in his electric blue eyes.

"I thought you said it was forgotten?" I asked, quickening my pace to keep up with his.

"Humor me." He shrugged.

"Well, if you must know…" I stalled as my mind raced quickly, thinking of a convincing lie. "I was thinking about what dress I should wear to Chyna's party!"

He stopped suddenly and turned around so fast I almost ran into him. He was so close our noses were almost touching. He narrowed his eyes and scanned my face for something. "Are you lying?" He asked carefully.

"No." I whispered.

"Stop that!" He insisted, his right eye twitching. He did that when something bothered him…

"Stop what?"

"Lying to me." He deadpanned. "What's been going on, Olive? You've been acting kinda… out of it."

"What?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Since when?"

"Since… Friday." He thought back, "Chyna invited us to her party… then we went to art, and you spilled red paint on your pants which made you all pissy-"

I raised an angry eyebrow at him. "Which is understandable…" He added. "But, since then you've been acting… weird."

"Well, I… Er… Um…" I swallowed and tried again. "What do you want me to say, Fletcher?"

"What I want," He cleared his throat. "What I want is for you to tell me the truth!"

"I am!"

"No, your not."

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm."

"How can you tell if I'm lying?"

"Well, I didn't notice it before." He admitted, scratching the back of his head. "But lately I've noticed, when you lie your voice gets almost unnoticeably higher."

"Do you realize how many times you said the word 'notice' in that sentence?"

Fletcher rolled his eyes, "Whatever, it's still true."

"What?" I questioned his insane theory. "No its not."

"Then tell me a lie, focus on your voice this time, and then tell me it doesn't." He challenged.

"Fine!" I accepted out of rage. "Let's see… Unicorns are real!"

But he was right. I didn't notice it before but my voice tweaked ever so slightly it was nearly impossible to catch. I must have been telling more lies than I remember if he noticed…

"Your right." I whispered, looking up at him. I almost forgot how close we were.

He seemed to relax a little. "So will you tell me what's wrong now?"

I stared straight into his eyes; I wanted to tell him so badly. I wanted him to hold me and tell me he felt the same way. I wanted him to kiss me and whisper the reasons why he loved me in my ear. I really wanted to tell him.

But I knew it was a bad idea. Because if I did tell him, none of those things would happen anyways. He would laugh, or run away, or worse, he would never speak to me again!

So instead I answered, "I think we should be heading over to the art store."

His blue eyes hardened and his face twisted into pure anger. Damn it, Olive! What is wrong with you? Is it really that hard to tell the truth?"

I shook my head as tears began to form in my eyes. "It's not something you would understand."

"Well maybe if you stop freaking lying to me and tell me what it is, I will understand! Gosh for someone who as smart as you, you can really be stupid sometimes!" He snapped.

I felt one of my tears get loose and quickly whipped it away, hoping he didn't notice. "I'm sorry." I told him honestly.

"Don't be sorry! Tell me the truth!" He demanded, the tear going unnoticed.

"I can't!" I yelled back at him. "You'll hate me! You won't speak to me ever again!"

His shoulders slumped. "Olive, that's not true. Nothing you did or do or whatever can drive me away." He came closer and hugged me. "You're my best friend, Olive. And nothing is going to change that."

I pushed him away, tears had managed to get passed my defenses but at this point I didn't care. "That's just it, dumb ass! Your so blind you can't even see that I don't want to be only friends with you!"

His eyes widened, "Wh-what?" He stuttered.

I shook my head and began to laugh hysterically. "Oh my god! I'm in love with you, damn it! And you come to me everyday and tell me you like Chyna and how beautiful she is and how you're going to ask her to be your girlfriend! Do you know what that does to me? It kills me inside! I hate seeing you smile at her beauty and knowing you'll never look at me like that! I can't stand being friends with you because it reminds me we have a barrier that keeps reminding me you'll never feel the same way! And god damn it, Fletcher Quimby stop staring at me all wide eyed and say something!"

"I-I-I-" Fletcher blinked rapidly before taking a deep breath and finally answered. "I'm sorry, Olive."

"Don't be sorry." I mocked him. "Oh, and I told you so!" I screeched at him before running away from him and out of the mall.

Once outside I realized I didn't have a ride home, so I called my mom.

"Can you pick me up please? I'm at the mall."

"Sure, honey. I'll be there in ten!"

"Okay, I love you."

"Love you too, bye." I heard a click and she was gone.

I placed my cell phone back in my pocket and sat on the curb. Everything I had just said caught up to me and I burst out crying.

It hurts so badly! I wanted to scream and the pain would all go away. But I knew it wouldn't.

I finally told him. I told him everything, and all he had to say was "I'm sorry" But I knew what he meant.

He's sorry he doesn't feel the same way.

I sobbed again and clutched my chest, when does it end? I wondered.

I told him. I told him he would hate me.

And as if on queue, it began to rain.


I didn't go to school on Monday. I told my mom I felt like vomiting, and she let me stay home.

I didn't want to see his reaction to when he saw me.

I just wanted to did my self a grave, jump in, and die.

The pain in my chest had not on increased but had now spread threw my entire body causing everything to be stiff and ache.

The worst part is my feelings for him are stronger than ever. I see a Harry Potter ad on TV and I think Oh, that's Fletcher's favorite movie! Or I see a blue colored cup in the sink, Fletcher's eyes are a much more beautiful blue.

Chyna came over on Sunday and I explained everything to her, no matter how many cartoons of ice cream or how many times we watched The Notebook it didn't make me feel any better. After she left I laid on my bed crying listening to Love Stinks by J. Geils Band for four hours. It didn't make me fell any better though.

I cried my self to sleep and I woke up the first thing I thought of was him and I couldn't help but bawl more. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore and my eyes were sore.

I went to school on Tuesday, but I was determined to avoid Fletcher at all costs. Whenever I heard his voice around the corner, I'd jump into the nearest room hoping he didn't see me. If we had a class together, I'd sit as far away from him as possible.

The rest of the week continued like that, me jumping around Fletcher. Not that he made any move to come and speak with me. Except once during lunch period when I was sitting at Chyna when I accidently look at him from across the room he was staring straight at me, his eyes burning holes in the side of my head. But once he noticed me looking he turned his attention back to Angus, whom he'd been sitting with since the whole mall fiasco.

Friday came around again; meaning Chyna's sweet sixteen-birthday party would be in play. I wrapped up the bag I got her before taking my dress carefully out of the closet and slipping it on, adding some lip-gloss and eyeliner. I finally pulled on my black flats and marched out the door.

It was a little too quiet in the car, so I turned on the radio.

I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love-

"Next!" I decided quickly, fumbling with the buttons of my radio.

You and Me together, threw the days and nights. I don't worry 'cause everything's gonna be all right-

"Next!" I huffed, pressing more buttons.

I don't want another pretty face; I don't want just anyone to hold. I don't want my love to go to waste; I want you and your beautiful soul-

"Next!" I practically screeched, pushing more buttons. "Damn it! Is there any song written that in not about love?"

And we're headed for a heart, heart, heartbreak. And I don't ever wanna hear you say-

"Of course!" I fumed, shutting the radio off all together.

I can live with silence.

When I arrived at Chyna's party, Chyna spotted me immediately. "Olive!" She rushed over and gave me a hug.

"Happy birthday, girl!" I squealed. I pulled away and handed her my gift. "Ta-da!"

"Oh!" She clapped excitedly before taking the present. "I can't wait to open it!"

She set the present with the others before pulling me into the crowd of people and screaming. "Let's dance!"

We swung to the songs with some of our other friends. Laughing, and pulling crazy dance moves, just having an awesome time.

"What band is this?" I asked Chyna.

"What?" She yelled over the music.

"What band is this?" I asked, louder this time.

She shrugged, "A friend of my brothers'! Their good, right?"

I nodded, "Yeah."

We bounced to the beat a bit more before the music stopped for the band's fifteen-minute water break.

And that's when Fletcher decided to show up.

He threw open the door casually and stepped inside. His brown hair had been combed but had been whipped around a bit by the wind, leaving dangling in front of his face. His black skinny jeans and dress shirt fit him perfectly.

What are you doing? I asked myself. That's Fletcher! If you ever want to be friends with him again you have to stop thinking of him that way. He's not sexy! I tried to convince myself.

He flicked his head to the right, making his hair do a flip that reminded me of Justin Bieber. But Fletcher seemed to pull it off better.

Okay, maybe he is!

He walked up to Chyna, who was standing next to me. "Happy birthday!" He smiled.

"Thanks!" Chyna grinned back, her eyes flickering to me for a millisecond before returning to Fletcher.

"Here's your present." He handed her a small bag. I frowned; he couldn't have possibly fit a canvas in there…

"Oh, awesome!" She took the bag from him. "Well, I'll just go place it with the other gifts…"

And then I was alone with Fletcher.

"Olive." He stated, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"Um, yes… hi. And um, bye." I muttered before walking off.

"Olive, wait!" His voice stopped me. "I-"

"Okay! We're back!" The lead singer announced threw the microphone. Everyone cheered excitedly. "And this next one is called…"

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts from Fletcher. I walked to where Chyna was standing.

I was going to have fun tonight, and even Fletcher Quimby's heart shattering face won't ruin it.


After cake it was time for presents. Chyna sat on stage looking amazing in her pink and black dress, surrounded by gifts and cards.

When she held up and read the card I'd given her she smiled and said, "I love you, Olive! You're the greatest best friend ever!" Then tore open her gift and squealed with delight.

Then she pulled Fletcher's gift from the pile, she laughed at something he wrote in his card and announced Fletcher had gotten this gift.

Chyna reached into the tiny bag and pulled out three or four bracelets. "Oh, thank you!" Her grin had somehow gotten even bigger. "I love them, Fletcher."

She opened more gifts from several other people, when she was done she gave a big speech about how much she loved everyone and thanked them for coming.

Afterwards, they started up the music again. Something by Ke$ha, I think. I wasn't really paying attention to what was playing.

I walked over to the punch bowl and was about to pour myself a drink when someone tapped me lightly on the shoulder. I shuttered pleasantly at the person's touch and turned to see Fletcher standing there, kicking the ground anxiously.

I blinked and stared blankly at him.

"I need to talk to you." He informed me, his blue eyes seemed… different. Distressed or disappointed, but at whom?

"Well, I have nothing to say to you." I told him.

"Olive, please." He begged, swallowing hard. "It's really important."

I sighed, "Fletcher, what could you possibly have to say to me? I admit my feelings for you and you reject me-" He flinched, shutting his eyes tightly, but I continued. "-And, not to mention, it was in a public place! Do you know how embarrassed I was?"

"Just meet me back here in a few minutes!" He insisted. "Please!"

"Fine."

He blinked, surprised, but nodded and walked off.

I went to the bathroom to wash my face and hands. Staring at my reflection, I noticed how different I looked from last week. My eyes were sunken in a bit, my hair had a bunch of split ends, and all this covered my make-up and hair products.

I sighed and walked back into the main room, making my way to the punch bowl.

I stopped in my tracks, wide eyed.

So, this is what he wanted to show me? That I was worthless and stupid? That Chyna was more beautiful than I'll ever be?

Fletcher and Chyna were in from of the punch table, tightly hugging each other. She pulled away smiled and said something to him.

I closed my eyes and swiftly turned and marched to the door. I had seen enough! I had been threw enough! What more did he want?

It was raining out again, but I didn't care. I stood there, soaked in sorrow- and well, water.

I couldn't hold it in anymore, I screamed.

I just wanted it all to come out. All the pain, my love for Fletcher, everything.

When I was done I sat down on the concrete steps and stared out into the rain. In the distance, I could see an apple tree. Without thinking I ran to it, slashing mud on my calves with every step.

When I reached the tree I grabbed the lowest branch and started climbing. I climbed until the branches got too thin and I couldn't climb anymore. I sat up there, in the apple tree. The apples were too ripe to eat so I didn't try too, but it was nice. The view, the smell, the rain even seemed nice. It looked like it was dancing across the pavement.

A familiar voice interrupted my thoughts. "Only someone as crazy as you would climb that high."

I looked down toward the bottom of the tree. There he was. "What?" I snapped.

Fletcher frowned, "You never showed up, I was waiting for you for thirty minutes."

I've been out here for thirty minutes? Huh, times flies. "I already saw what you were going to say."

His eyebrows furrowed together, "What are you talking about?"

"I saw you and Chyna hugging, so I figured you were just going to tell me it would never work out." I shrugged, but my heart was pounding. "Your welcome. I saved you the trouble."

Fletcher shook his head and smiled, "Your one hell of a girl, you know that?"

"Oh, sure. Laugh at my pain. You've already caused me enough grief!"

The rain seemed to come down harder and harder. "Olive, come here." He instructed.

"No." I denied.

"Fine." He smiled smugly. "If you won't come down, then I'll come up!"

He started climbing up the tree, once he reached me he sat down on a limb near the one I was currently occupying and asked. "Ready to talk to me now?"

"It's not like I have a choice."

"Okay," He gulped nervously. "So, when you said… you know. And I… well, you were there…"

"Spit it out!" I growled, I just wanted him to get it over with.

"Okay, so after you left the mall. I went home and thought about what happened. And when one day wasn't enough, I just couldn't stop thinking about it. And… well… I… shit!" He muttered.

I sighed, "Well, if that's all you had to say. I'm going to leave."

"No!" He grabbed my wrist, and stared at me with pleading blue eyes. "Stay."

I said nothing, but didn't move.

He let go of my wrist. "What you said, about it killing you inside when I talking about Chyna… God, Olive! I'm so sorry I made you feel that way! And I wanted to pound my face with a brick because it was my fault! I made you feel that way! And realizing I did something like that to you… I realized… I realized that…"

"Well?" I asked anxiously. "What?"

"Well…" He drawled twiddling his thumbs- something he did when he was nervous. "All week I tried to paint my painting for Chyna, but I couldn't. I couldn't focus on Chyna because-" He cleared his throat. "Because my mind was on you all the time."

I bit my bottom lip so hard that I thought it was going to begin to bleed. I could feel my heart almost explode with delight. "Wait so…"

"Olive," He said my name like it came naturally to him, slipping off his tongue. "I love you."

"Fletcher." I whispered, a tear trickling down my cheek. But I wasn't crying because I was heart broken this time.

"Why are you crying?" He whispered. "Did I do something wrong?" His eyes widened with worry. "Oh god, you've moved on, haven't you? I'm so-"

"No, stupid." I laughed and shook my head. "I'm crying because I'm happy."

"Oh." His eyes dropped downwards. "Right. Of course. I knew that."

"Hey." I laughed. "Look at me."

His eyes wandered back up to mine. "What?"

"You know that saying about how girls are like apples on trees?" I asked him.

He nodded, "Uh-huh. Why?"

"I think I figured it out." I reached up and picked a ripe apple from the tree. "When you eat an apple, its sweet and tasty. But when you're done with it, only then you realize how much you loved it."

Fletcher shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Huh?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"I think," He started slowly. "There's this amazing, beautiful girl I'm in love with and right now she's sitting in the apple tree with me. And I'm wondering why I haven't kissed her yet."

Before I knew it, his forehead was against mine, our lips half an inch apart.

"Fletcher?" I breathed.

"Yeah?" He murmured back to me.

"I love you."

He grinned so wide I thought his smile would explode. "I love you too, Olive."

I don't remember who moved first, but his lips were on mine within a second. They were cold from the rain, but they sent warm shivers down my spine. His lips moved and molded perfectly with my own.

I pulled away and rested my forehead on his again. "So…" I began, getting my fingers tangled in his. "You know what you have to do now, right?"

He rolled his eyes, a permanent grin on his face. "Of course, I've only watched The Notebook with you a million times."

"But, before you build me a white house with blue shutters…" I hinted.

He nodded, "Olive Doyle, I love you. I know I was slow and stupid and yes, blind but I love you." He whispered the last part. "So, so much. And It would mean the world if you would be my girl."

"I love you too, Fletcher." My heart beating so fast it seemed like it was humming a love song. "Of course I'll be your girlfriend."

I kissed him again, and the amazing sensation I got when I did the first time was still fresh. I had a feeling it would be there for a while.

~The End~


So did you like it? Should I do another? Review please!

Keep on truckin' ;D

-Strawsrcool