a Chyna/Olive oneshot
She was always listening to yet another rant about yet another boy.
It had always been like that, always. Ever since Olive had known her, Chyna had been obsessed with boys. Even at age 12 when she first started the ANT program, Chyna had been more worried about meeting boys and growing up than she had been about actually developing as an artist.
Olive hadn't really understood back then why it was that the other girl needed to do all of those things. She was a brilliant girl, talented, beautiful, smart. She didn't need to put herself out there like all the older kids at school – she was too different, too special and precious. And most importantly, she was too young. Most of the other kids in the ANT program had been focused on their talents; they'd tried to get better, spent every free moment at school to grow, but what had Chyna done? There had been periods during her years in the ANT program where she'd lost focus entirely.
The blonde girl had sort of understood why Chyna wanted to have fun and live a little – they were in high school after all – but she had never comprehended why the brunette was so fascinated with popularity – and most importantly… boys. Olive herself had never felt the need to hang out with the older kids, and she had most definitely never felt the need to hang out with boys and get crushes on them. Heck, she barely even tolerated Fletcher, and Angus? He was an entirely other story…
She knew many stupid facts about boys. She'd spent hours in her room growing up, trying to figure out what the primary differences between girls and boys were, and somehow, she just ended up being a lot more interested in the female kind.
This then – in the past year or so – had made her study small facts about homosexuality, which then eventually had led her to the conclusion that she was one of those. You know, one of those homosexuals who were attracted to a person of their own gender instead of the opposite sex.
A random fact about homosexuality: Approximately four million adults in The United States identify themselves as being either gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender. That's only a 1.7 % which is actually a very small percentage.
Anyway, this realisation had caused certain… difficulties for her lately. Because not only had she, by use of her superior intelligence, concluded that she was a lesbian, she had also concluded that… that she was very much in love with her best friend Chyna Parks. However nice that conclusion might be for her confusion, it also explained why those boys had never fascinated her like they did Chyna. Thinking about it now, she also always did have a soft spot for the sport golf, so she probably should have connected the dots a long time ago.
Should she cut all of her hair off now? Wasn't that the lesbian thing to do?
So many different facts about lesbians, and she could hardly make sense of them all…
Anyway, it was those boys. After turning 16, Chyna was still very much interested in boys, and the only difference was that now – she sort of had the age where things were starting to get a little more serious. And Olive didn't like it. Olive didn't like it at all. She sort of hated it, to be honest. They were in their last year of high school, the last year they had to spend together before Chyna went off to some fancy performance college, and Olive herself was going to attend Yale, and all the blonde had to listen to during lunches and breaks between classes was… well, boys.
It sucked big time, especially because she was in love with Chyna, and what was she going to do about it? She'd tried to go through all of her photographic memories, from the first time she met Chyna and up until the current moment she was in, and she'd tried and tried to see if maybe there were small hints of Chyna feeling the same, or maybe Chyna hiding her gayness behind her boy craziness, but Olive had to admit, that that was a long shot – even for her. Chyna was as straight as they got, and Olive was simply the sidekick best friend (as seen in many, many TV shows) who carried an unreciprocated crush.
Fletcher was no help at all, either. He'd given up on his crush on Chyna about two years ago and was steadily dating a freshmen at their high school, and even though Olive was still annoyed by the mere sight of his face, he was her friend and he would listen (and laugh) when she started moaning about her love for Chyna.
It was a known fact that most people go through heartbreak like that at least once in their lifetime, but Olive had always hoped that her superior intelligence would keep her from making such foolish mistakes. Apparently not though, and she now had to suffer through it. That's what one gets for being absolutely brilliant.
She was just raising the scissors to cut the first big chunk of hair off, when Fletcher interrupted, because he simply had to enter the ANT room, along with that giggling girlfriend of his. She saw them through the mirror, pausing in the doorway with first confused looks on their faces, and then they just seemed shocked.
Fletcher had wide eyes as he dramatically shrieked, "What on Earth are you doing!?"
Olive just stared right back at him, not cutting, not lowering the scissors, "I am cutting my hair off. And then I'm reclining my early admissions to Yale to go live in a lesbian community where we hold hands and sing songs about acceptance." She stated, before she once more motioned to cut her hair off.
"Noooo!" Fletcher exclaimed, as he rushed across the room to stop her. He tugged her hand down and held it there, while he stared her straight in the eye, "Why would you cut your hair off!? Your locks are so luscious and golden!"
She stared right back at him, "I'm a lesbian now, Fletcher, this is what they do." She paused, "Oh, I should probably get a cat! Or maybe go vegetarian!" she nodded her head, "I should most definitely wear more flannel."
He glared at her and forced the scissor out of her hand, "You're being ridiculous, Olive. You're the way you are, lesbian or not." He turned to look at his girlfriend, "Can you give us a minute?"
Shrugging her shoulders, she left the room.
Olive fell onto the couch with a huge sigh. "Fletcher, why are you trying to fight it? There's not fighting it. This is who I am."
"You're Olive." Fletcher replied and sat down next to her with a sideways grin, "And thinking about it, this is a typical Olive reaction. After all, I've known you for four years now…" he grabbed her hand carefully, "And despite what we both say, I know we care for each other. You're my friend."
She rolled her eyes at him, "Yes, we're friends. Are you happy now?"
He laughed, "Very!"
Olive glared at him while she laughed with him, because that was just the sort of relationship that they shared. Being friends with Fletcher was different than being friends with Chyna, that was for sure. "Are you going to let me cut off my hair now?" she questioned then. She was eager to get started on fulfilling all of those clichés. Maybe she would easier get over Chyna if she did so.
Fletcher shook his head, "You're not cutting your hair off, and we both know you're attending Yale just like planned." He squeezed her hand tightly before he let it go, "I think Yale will be good for you. You'll be away from Chyna so you can get over her. I'm sure you'll meet some other girl who'll steal your heart."
The blonde girl scrunched up her nose. She had thought about that, maybe in some way hoped that that was what was going to happen. But on the other hand, she couldn't imagine that, because it sort of broke her heart. She loved Chyna. Thus didn't want someone else. She only wanted Chyna right now, and the thought of not having her was… absolutely heart-breaking. "I guess I just don't feel like I can leave Chyna without telling her how I feel."
"You'll ruin your friendship." Fletcher said then, without easing her into it, without gently informing her that these were the facts (the facts that she already knew, but that didn't matter), "Chyna is into boys. She talks about boys all the time. I can't imagine that she's going to react positively to this."
Olive nodded. "I know." She whispered, "Statistically speaking, the odds of her being gay and reciprocating those feelings are slim to none. I know, I read it online." She shrugged her shoulders then, "But I want closure before I go into the big, big world."
Fletcher nodded, "I'm all for that." He agreed, "I think it'll be better for you, like I said before. So I suggest you do it at the party next week. It's the last one here for you since you'll be leaving the next day." He motioned around the room, at this, at ANT, at the entire school, "No matter her reaction, you'll be gone right after."
She smiled warmly at him. "That's a good idea." She whispered, and she honestly meant it. Fletcher rarely got bright ideas (that was always her thing), because he was too abstract in his way of thinking; he was an artist, and that's what he did, so that was cool too. "I love you, Fletch." She honestly whispered then, before she pulled him in for a tight hug.
"No matter what happens," he whispered into her ear, as he held her tightly, "you'll always have a friend in me."
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" Chyna chanted as she appeared out of nowhere in front of Olive. She was practically jumping up and down as she talked, "The cutest sophomore just asked me to dance! He's on the football team and he's really good-looking." She wriggled her eyebrows as she kept talking with that special drawl of hers, "I think he might be giving me a little something-something tonight, if you know what I mean."
Olive smiled stiffly at her, "Even the cup knows what you mean." She sarcastically replied as she motioned towards the cup of punch that she had in her hand. Logically, she knew that cups could not know anything, but she said it for the impact, anyway, screw logic! Did she really just think 'screw logic'? Yes Olive, you really did just think that.
Chyna stared awkwardly at her. "Why are you being such a buzz-kill!?" she questioned, flipping a piece of her straightened black hair behind her shoulder, "We're here to have fun tonight! Drink more punch and come dance with me!"
The blonde girl shook her head, "No, I don't want to drink, and I don't want to dance. Go dance with your football-player." She replied. This was so not her scene; it never had been, but it was even less her scene because she had to watch Chyna ogle over every single guy in the room (and even some of the taken ones). She just wanted to go home, pack the last of her stuff and leave tomorrow without any more drama or heartache. She was looking forward to letting go and being able to meet some new people; she didn't believe that it'd be easier for her to make friends, but hopefully people would accept her for who she was.
The other girl gave her that certain look again; the one where she bends her head slightly and sort of looks down on her. "Alright, what's wrong?" she questioned.
Olive turned her head away; she didn't want to do this: Not here, not right now. She was chickening out, for what did it matter anyway, if she told her or not? And she didn't want to ruin Chyna's night. The other girl had been looking forward to this night for weeks – she was dressed beautifully, and her hair and make-up was done perfectly. Not a hair had strayed. Who was Olive to take this perfection away from her? If she told her now, her memories would always be tainted by this revelation.
"But I don't want you to leave tomorrow without spending more time with you!" Chyna objected, and she did look very affected by it; Olive could see it in her eyes. But that was to be expected, right? They had – after all – been friends for four years now. "Who knows when we'll see each other again? You're my best friend, Olive!"
Taking a small step closer, Olive could feel her walls crumbling down. She couldn't stand to see Chyna upset, not like this. "You're my best friend, too." She softly replied. And she knew that she had to make a sacrifice; she had to pretend that everything was okay now, and then she'd leave tomorrow and hopefully get over it. "Which is why I want you to dance with those boys, and enjoy your last night here. Not waste it by spending time with me."
Chyna didn't quite agree with her view on that, "But… you're leaving tomorrow." She replied, "There will be other boys."
Olive raised an eyebrow, "Did you just say 'there will be other boys'? What have you done to my best friend!?" she jokingly said, and thereafter forced herself to smile bigger. She gave Chyna a short pad on the arm and urged her on, "God dance with that football player, okay? He's eyeing you from his table. And – and… we'll talk later, okay?" she softly queered.
Glancing backwards, Chyna saw what Olive had noticed throughout their entire conversation – that the football player indeed was eyeing her with lustful eyes. "He is looking, isn't he?" Chyna questioned with immediate giddiness in her voice.
The blonde girl just nodded and swept a piece of her wavy hair behind her ear. Now that she was touching it, she was quite glad that Fletcher had managed to stop her from cutting it off (she was wearing flannel though, she had to fit somehow), "He is!" she replied, faking excitement with every fibre of her being.
Chyna smiled brightly as she turned back to look Olive in the eye. "We should have found someone for you as well! Although…" she gave her a quizzical once-over, "I'm not sure how much you're rocking the flannel tonight." She shook her head as if to tell her 'no', "What happened to your dresses?"
"Oh, this is my new look." Olive replied, motioning towards her own outfit, "And flannel can be traced back as far as to the 16th century Wales, and then later France and Germany. Originally it was made from short stable wool, but now it is commonly made of silk and cotton."
Chyna couldn't hold back her laugh. "Alright, you like flannel." She shook her head to herself, "I'll talk to you later, Olive." She continued, before she turned around on her heel and made her way towards the other end of the room, where that boy was sitting, with a goofy grin on his face.
Olive felt like throwing her drink into the wall or something, but instead of acting out completely, she turned her head the other way to keep herself busy. She wasn't going to do this; she wasn't going to torture herself by watching Chyna (most likely) make out with some football player, and she wasn't going to pity herself because it would never happen to her. No, she was going to be mature about it and turn the other way while she pretended that her heart wasn't breaking into tiny little pieces inside her chest.
"Go home, Olive."
She turned her head over and locked her eyes with Fletcher's. "No."
He took a sip of his red plastic cup and continued, "You're getting absolutely nothing out of staying here. If I know you, you aren't going to tell her anyway." he tilted his head slightly, and she hated the way he looked at her, so affectionately, "Just go home, finish packing, and call me tomorrow from the airport."
"Thank you, Fletch." she whispered, before she threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. She spilled punch all over his back, but she didn't care, and he didn't either. She hugged him, like she'd never hugged him before, and suddenly she couldn't imagine what it was going to be like spending every day without him right there with her; without his annoying remarks and his art-work and that girlfriend of his following their every step. "I'm going to miss you so much." she continued, and she had tears in her eyes, tears that she tried to hold back, but couldn't.
His arms were tight around her, and he squeezed her even harder as he replied, "I'm going to miss you too."
Falling out of his arms, she let her eyes meet his, and she bared her soul for him. She was pretty sure that he could see just how much she was hurting, that he could see just in how much pain she had been the last few months, after realising what was really going on inside of her head. She was so thankful that she was leaving tomorrow, she was finally going to get away from all of this, she was able to start anew in another place, and that was exactly what she needed. "I'll call you." she finished, not wanting to drag it out any longer.
"Good." he promptly replied.
Leaning slightly over, Olive placed a kiss on his cheek, before she turned on her heel and hurried to flee the room. There was a long line at the cloakroom, and she clutched the small piece of paper inside of her hand, the paper with her number on, as she impatiently waited for her turn. Most people were just showing up and they had to leave their coats. For her – the night was already over. She smiled at the guy as she handed him her number.
He snorted, "That was a short night."
"Yeah," she hoarsely said, forcing herself to speak, "something came up."
He quickly found her jacket and handed it to her, before he turned to the next customer. She stepped outside of the line and made sure to zip her jacket all the way up, before she checked all of her pockets. Everything was still there – statistically she knew that it was a bad idea to leave keys and wallet inside a jacket in a cloakroom, but she simply hadn't had room for them in her jeans. Under normal circumstances she would have brought a purse, but she didn't really think one fitted her lesbian-look of flannel. Sighing, she knew that she had to go outside now where it'd be just a short walk home. For some reason she couldn't do it though; it was the final goodbye. When she left this school tonight, she wasn't going to be coming back, so that was probably why that one task seemed so difficult to complete.
She wasn't ready to let go of all of this – she wasn't ready to leave the first place where she had really felt welcomed, the first place where she had actually had friends. She needed to see the ANT room. Just one more time.
Olive unzipped her jacket again as she walked down the deserted, dark hallway. They probably weren't allowed down here tonight, but no one was watching, so she was just going to do it. It was nice to see the room again, the room that had been their sanctuary all of these years. It was different tonight though; all of Chyna's instruments were gone, so was Angus' giant computer and Fletcher's artwork. New things had taken their places, things that belonged to the newest members of the program, the young people who – like she had when she first got here – really needed a place to fit in.
She traced her hand over the back of the couch, before she found herself just staring at everything, taking in the entire atmosphere for just one last time. This was really it. It was goodbye.
"Why are you wearing your jacket – are you leaving?"
Olive practically jumped right out of her Converse shoes by the sound of Chyna's voice. Snapping her head to the side, she found her best friend looking at her from the doorway, seemingly not pleased at all. "I'm... I'm tired. I was going to go home and... pack." she whispered.
"Nuh-uh!" Chyna argued and stepped inside, looking at her like she was absolutely crazy. "This is our last night, you can't just leave! I found a football-player for you as well." she licked her lips, "And then when I turned to introduce you to him, you weren't standing where I left you. What's up with that?"
Shrugging, Olive murmured, "I don't know."
She wasn't interested in any football-player, she wasn't interested in any guys! All she wanted was that one girl who was standing in front of her right now – and she knew very well that she couldn't have her. Was this God's way of taunting her? Of pointing a finger at her, saying 'ha ha ha'? It wasn't funny! And she was really very tired of going through this.
Chyna reached a hand out to grab hers. "Come back inside."
Olive tore her hand away. "No." she firmly said, "I'm going home." she added, before she stepped pass Chyna to go for the door.
"Are you really doing this right now? It's our last night, you're leaving tomorrow." Chyna argued, and she sounded mad – but also hurt, which is what caused Olive to stop in her tracks and turn back around. A big grin appeared on the other girl's face at this point. "See, I knew you couldn't resist my offer of that football-player." she smirked.
"Stop!" Olive hissed then, before she knew what she was saying, before she realised what was coming out of her mouth, "Stop right now, Chyna! I'm not interested in your stupid football-player!"
Chyna took a step back and shook her head, "Alright, calm down, I get it..." she trailed off, clearly not knowing whether to find this amusing or not, "He's not your type. You'd rather find some mathlete or somethin'?"
Olive rolled her eyes; she was so tired of this; so tired of Chyna's constant obsession about boys and hooking up with everybody! She was tired of the fact that everything had to be about that, that nothing could be about just having fun and enjoying the night together! Everything was about boys, and it always had been. Olive was done with that! "No." she firmly said, "I don't want a football-player, or a mathlete, or even a boy from the swimming team!" she continued, and she could feel her eyes burning, "I'm gay, okay? I'm a lesbian, Chyna, and I'm really tired of listening to your constant rants about boys. I'm a part of the only 1,7 percentage of Americans who identify themselves as something other than heterosexual. So please. Just stop now, okay? And let me go home and pack so I can leave this place."
Arching an eyebrow, Chyna stared at her with confusion, "You're gay?" she questioned. And then her posterior changed entirely, and a soft look came upon her features. "For how long have you known that?"
"A few months now." Olive replied, refusing to look her in the eye.
Chyna sounded even more hurt when she continued, "Why didn't you tell me? I'm your best friend, I could've... been there for you."
Olive looked up then, finally meeting her eyes. Those brown orbs seemed so hurt, so betrayed, and it did something to her. She'd never been able to resist Chyna, which was why it had always been so important that she didn't meet her eyes in conversations like these. Because once she did... Chyna broke down all of her walls. "I didn't know how to." she mumbled, "You were all about boys, and I just... I didn't want to ruin anything for you."
"Boys are just boys." Chyna lightly said then, taking a few steps closer, thus making the distance between them smaller, "I would have helped you look for girls. What are best friends for, right?"
With a beating heart, Olive knew what she had to do. Of course she had decided to bail on this plan earlier, to not bare her heart for Chyna to stamp on, to keep it between herself and Fletcher and mourn in peace at Yale, but... When an opportunity presented itself like it did now, what was she to do? Perhaps it really would set her free, and maybe she'd even feel better afterwards. "There already is a girl." she simply just stated, wanting to test the waters a little bit.
Chyna's eyes turned wide. "There's a girl? Is that why you suddenly dress differently and everything?"
"I briefly contemplated cutting off my hair like most lesbians do once in a lifetime." Olive replied.
"But who's the girl?" Chyna pressured on. "Can I meet her?"
With burning eyes, Olive met her best friend's gaze, "She doesn't know I love her." she whispered, and she really – desperately – tried to tell Chyna through her look that it was her. It's you, Olive inwardly said, hoping to somehow telepathically (even though she knew that that was not scientifically possible) get the message across. It's you, Chyna. I love you.
Chyna's lips were slightly parted; she looked confused, hurt, at a loss. "But..." she breathed out, reaching a hand up to brush a piece of hair away, "who is it?"
Olive had never thought that Chyna looked as beautiful as she did right now. She was the absolute picture of perfection. She hated that this was probably going to be the last time she saw the girl with the slender body and full lips. She hated that she was going to upset her, confuse her, possibly hurt her. But she had to do it. She couldn't hold it in, not any longer. "It's you." she whispered then, the words filling the air between them, silencing everything around them, as if a bomb had just gone off.
Pausing, Chyna's voice was small, just like a young child's, when she questioned, "Me?"
Shrugging, Olive had to hold back tears, "You give me the fantods, Chyna."
"I give you the fantods?" she questioned, in a state of disbelief. "What he heck is a fantod?"
"Fantods;" Olive heard herself say, simply because she could not help herself, no matter the situation, when someone questioned her like that, "Noun: A state of extreme nervousness or restlessness; the willies; the fidgets." she paused, looking softly at the black-haired beauty; repeating, "You give me the fantods."
Chyna was quiet for a long amount of time then, and Olive just looked at her, not sure whether or not to leave the room, leave Chyna, or stay to hear the outcome. Maybe the other girl would be more comfortable if she left her alone? The blonde wasn't sure... All she could see was that Chyna seemed to be digesting this information, which was understandable, given the circumstances.
She swallowed loudly, "I don't know... what to say."
Olive sighed. "I know what to say. You're straight, you like boys." she firmly said, not wanting to meet Chyna's eyes, because this was hurting her, "And I'm leaving tomorrow, so it makes no difference. Anyway..." she zipped up her jacket, "I'm glad I told you, and I hope that you can see past this so maybe we can be friends still."
"Don't-" Chyna cut herself off, "don't go right now."
"I need to go." Olive whispered, with one hand on the doorknob, ready to leave this place, "I need to go because I don't want to break down in tears while I'm with you." she finished in a whisper, before she slipped out of the room, leaving her crush – her best friend of four years – behind.
She held back the tears for another minute or so. Only when she had stepped outside, into the fresh evening air, did she let everything wash right over her, fulfil her, consume her. Finally, she cried.
She didn't know what she'd really believed; that Chyna was going to come rushing towards her at the gate, telling her that she couldn't go to Yale, because she loved her, too, and they were meant to be together, and they needed to figure things out before she left.
So perhaps she hadn't believed that at all, but it had been the thought inside of her head when she cried herself to sleep last night in her empty room with the last of her suitcases packed by the foot of the bed. Everything else she owned had been shipped a week ago and was waiting for her in her dorm room. It had seemed so cold, so empty and final when she laid there, on her last night, with a broken heart.
Now there were just five minutes until she had to enter the plane. She'd called Fletcher, and her parents were there with her, ready to say goodbye. This thought of Chyna running towards her at the gate, confessing her secret love for her, it was the only thing that kept her from freaking out entirely. Suddenly everything was so real, and the only thing that kept her sane was that crazy fantasy.
She was really leaving this place now; she was going to go out on her own, she'd be an entirely new Olive. Hopefully she'd have an easier time making new friends and fitting in. She didn't want to be the outcast once more, even if she was going to be the youngest student there.
It was so odd. So strange.
She wasn't really ready, when they announced that the flight was now for boarding, but she knew what she had to do. Once she was on the plane, she'd probably feel better, but right now... She sure as hell felt like shit. Hopping out of the cold plastic seat she had been sitting in, she clutched her carry-on luggage in one hand, and tried to control her beating heart.
"We'll miss you, Olive." her father whispered as he hugged her tightly.
She savoured the smell of him, breathing in his comforting familiar scent. She wasn't going to smell him that often now. Only on holidays and if her parents flew out to visit.
Her mother added, when she was in her arms, "We love you, baby-girl."
"I love you too." Olive replied as she pulled away, glancing at her parents, the two people who'd loved her regardless of everything she'd been through. The two people who had always supported her, and been proud of her. They'd worked so hard to save money so they could pay her tuition and put her through the best college of her choice, and now there she was, ready to go.
She had to say goodbye to her parents and the loving home they'd created, goodbye to ANT, and to Fletcher and Angus, and even Principal Skidmore and Gibson and Lexi. She had to wave goodbye to everything she knew, goodbye to... Chyna. The best friend and confidante any girl could have ever wanted.
She clutched her carry-on tighter and waved shortly at her parents. "Bye." she whispered, before she stepped into the line behind the other passengers, ready to let go and start anew.
I have no idea where this came from, or if there's even any people in this fandom who likes Chyna/Olive. I've watched the show a lot, and I completely adore Olive, and this idea sort of just... came to me one day, so I figured, I might as well type it. It is what it is, and I'll probably never write any more A.N.T. Farm, but it was fun (and very challenging!) to deal with these characters. It's always nice to try writing someone new, because it can really help develop me as a writer.
I hope you like it! Please leave me your thoughts ;-)
Disclaimer; I don't own A.N.T. Farm.