by Emma Rose
I chuckled again. "That's alright. I want you to go for me and not for him anyway."
"Okay, then. So, what are we doing now?" Oliver asked.
"Hmm..." I thought. "How about we splash through the creek one last time, then you run into the nearest Wawa for breakfast, and finally I fall back asleep as you drive us back to Manhattan?"
Oliver smirked and held up his hand in a fist for me to bump. "Let's do it, Jones," he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: OLIVER
As I drove back to New York City after the all too soon conclusion of Jemma's and my adventure, I could feel my anxiety rising steadily.
In all honesty, I loved my brother. Despite his constant criticism of me and lack of compassion for pretty much everyone besides himself, he was my family and I think anyone with even half a heart loves their family. No matter how many jerk moves Will made, I knew there would always be a soft spot deep down inside of me that forgave him, but that still doesn't mean I liked being around him.
I would never just show up at my brother's apartment unannounced under normal circumstances, but in this instance, I was happy to do so for Jemma. Happy to make her happy that is, but nervous for myself all the same.
The thing about Will was that he always had to have control of every situation. He wanted his life to be perfect in every way and if it couldn't be perfect in every way he wanted it to at least appear perfect to others. I, of course, have hidden my demons from others in the past, but not because I wanted to deceive others for my own gain. I closed myself off because I didn't want to burden or embarrass my friends and family with my personal issues.
After what felt like the longest two and a half-hour drive of my life, we finally arrived at Jemma's place and quickly unpacked the car. We were both exhausted and not in the mood to do anything besides crashing on the couch, but we forced our irritable selves to get cleaned up and ready to visit my brother. I wondered what he needed to talk to Jemma so desperately about and why Jemma felt like she had to do everything he told her to do.
I wasn't sure what to wear, but I knew Jemma was going to wear a dress, so I wanted to look nice too. I decided on a pair of preppy coral shorts and a white button-down shirt. I looked like a total frat
boy and I hated it, but it seemed like the best option.
I waited anxiously on Jemma's couch and mindlessly hopped between different apps on my phone to distract myself from what I anticipated to be my inevitable doom. I found myself scrolling through Instagram and looking back at my cringe-worthy pictures from just a couple of weeks ago. I barely recognized that too cool for school, loser druggie in the pictures.
I vowed to myself right there and then that there was no turning back for me. I wasn't ever going to be that kid again. I decided I was going to be noble, hard-working, kind, Oliver from there on out.
Then, I deleted every picture of the old Oliver from my social media profiles.
Suddenly, I was taken out of my deleting fury by the sound of Jemma's strappy kitten heels on the hardwood floor. I looked up from my phone and I swear my heart stopped for a moment. Jemma looked simply stunning in a light blue dress with ruffled sleeves and a white daisy pattern. The color of the dress matched her captivating eyes and complimented her soft, golden skin.
"Wow," was all I could manage to get out.
Jemma laughed ignoring the awkward speechless state I was in. "Come on, let's go."
I felt stupid for not saying anything more but I was walking a fine line between trying to be just a friend but also being totally enamoured with the person standing before me and wanting to show my feelings toward her so intensely.
As I opened the car door for Jemma, I almost felt like I was taking her on a date, but I wasn't and I had to remember that. I had a scare in the morning when I woke up because my letter was on the floor of the car, instead of in my pocket where it had been when I had fallen asleep the night before.
I had been battling with myself on whether or not to give the note to Jemma. I wanted to keep my promise to her, but I also needed to be true to myself. Sooner or later, she was going to discover that I liked her anyway. I couldn't hide it forever. Besides, I needed her to know that even when we were apart I was thinking of her and loving her every day for years.
Obviously, I had learned my lesson that keeping something so personal as a love letter in your pocket is not the wisest idea if you’re trying to keep your private thoughts private, so I decided to put the letter back where it belonged under my pillow tucked in the back of my precious mother-son photo album.
When we arrived at Walker Tower, I felt a little out of place. I wasn't used to being in sophisticated places where I was expected to act like a cultured adult. I guess that was my Achilles' heel in many ways, I never really grew up. I was still a kid with a child's heart and an impulsive desire for justice and freedom that I should have grown out of a long-time ago.
"Oliver," Jemma said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder as we took the elevator up to Will's apartment.
"What's up?" I asked in a pathetic attempt to play things cool.
"Ollie, you. You're so tense. Just relax, alright? We're just going to go in, eat, chat, be bored, probably become a little annoyed with your brother, and then we can go home and watch Spider-Man or the Avengers or something when we get home. Everything will be all good, trust me," Jemma insisted, trying to assure me that life was fine when in fact it was about to not be fine at all.
I patted her hand and smiled down at her. "Thanks, Jemma," I said quietly, "but it better not be the Andrew Garfield version."
She squinted her eyes at me and I laughed. "That's my favorite version, though," she whined.
I shook my head, "Uncultured," I declared her sarcastically.
Then the elevator door opened and everything became real. Jemma led me to Will's door. She knocked and my heart rate skyrocketed to what felt like two hundred beats per minute as we waited.
Jemma looked at me and I gave her one last weak smile before the door opened.
"Hey, Will!" Jemma exclaimed as if I wasn't even there.
"Hey, come on, we've got-" Will started eagerly until his eyes darted over to meet mine.
For a second, Will just stared at me and I stared right back at him. It was like he was trying to determine whether I was real or just a vision.
"Jemma, what the heck is Oliver doing here?" he asked in a voice that was more tired than angry.
"Uhhh... well, we need to talk about that," Jemma stuttered.
Apparently, she was just as worried about this as I was.
"Yeah we do," Will said flatly, keeping his eyes fixated on me. It wouldn't have taken a body language expert to tell that he was not exactly glad to see me. Will then turned into his apartment and Jemma followed him and I followed Jemma.
"Will, let me explain," Jemma said calmly as we sat down around the coffee table in Will's living room.
"You bailed him out, didn't you?" he asked, rolling his eyes. I was feeling extremely uncomfortable at this point because he still hadn't spoken to me. He had only spoken about me to Jemma.
Jemma paused. Clearly, she did not want to admit her guilt to Will which made me feel worse because I had just put her in an uncomfortable situation with my brother and I knew exactly how that felt.
"You did, admit it, Jemma, and then we can deal with it and move on to other things we need to talk about," Will demanded now standing up and placing his hands on his hips. What Jemma probably didn't realize was that this was Will's way of asserting his dominance when he was in fact feeling inferior.
"Fine, I did because you know what Will? Life is too short to hold grudges and to be angry all the time. It's too short to be laser-focused only on your own success. It's too short to not spend most of it loving others. You should know that. You didn't have your mother around forever. You have to realize that you need to prioritize the important stuff, the important people, before it's too late, Will," Jemma pleaded.
Will just shook his he
ad and rubbed his temples. "Oh, Jemma. Give it a break."
I could not believe the way Will was talking to Jemma. I shouldn't have been so surprised. It was typical of Will to talk down to people, but Jemma was a worldwide phenomenon, not to mention one of the sweetest, strongest, most genuine people on the planet. What the hell was he thinking?
Just then, Skylar walked into the room. I hadn't seen her for ages, and I was still astonished that they weren't married yet. I'm not sure what Will was waiting for, but if I know that if Jemma was in love with me, I'd be planning a wedding as soon as possible.
"Jemma," she exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, "It's good to see you, again. Don't you wish we could all just go back and do that tour all over again?" she asked.
Jemma stood up and gave Skylar one of those phony hugs girls give each other.
"Oliver!" she squealed as she saw me. Then, she looked me over in a way that made me feel bad for every girl on the planet who had to deal with that kind of stuff every day. "I didn't know you were coming. Oh my goodness, you look good. What have you been up to? I always tell Will, you know, that we should see you more often."
I nodded politely at her. As uneasy as she made me feel, I was glad someone was at least acknowledging my presence and talking to me like I was actually a person. "Nice to see you, again, Skylar," I smiled.
Skylar went over to Will and sat next to him putting her hands on top of his which were folding in fists on his lap. His demeanor seemed to change slightly when she came into the room, but there was no way he was going to let this go easily.
He turned to face me and for a second it felt like it was just the two of us in the room. "You can stay, but don't mess with Jemma, got it? I don't want you ruining Jemma with all that crap you do. She can't be associated with stuff like that or her reputation will go down."
Jemma glanced over with me and I could see in her sapphire eyes that she was fed up with Will and didn't buy into a word he just said.
"Alright," I agreed, "I promise. We're not, we're just, I mean- she-" I stumbled unsure of what to say in defense of myself before Jemma stepped in to save me.
"We're not going to do anything stupid, Will. l learned my lesson before. I won't do anything that could hurt my image, alright. Just trust me, okay?" Jemma said with a new strain of frustration in her voice.
Will nodded in approval.
"Let's go have dinner; it's all set. I'll just grab an extra plate for Oliver," Skylar said giddily. I wondered if that girl was just ignoring the tension in the room or if she couldn't even read it.
We moved to the kitchen. I sat next to Will, across from Skylar, and diagonal from Jemma. It was the worst-case scenario in my mind.
Shortly, after Skylar served some gourmet chicken recipe that was too elite for my tastebuds, she started making conversation with me about her modeling work which I really didn't care about but had to pretend I did. While I was distracted with Skylar's ramblings about photoshoots and the Hadid sisters, I overheard Will start to talk business with Jemma, but I wasn't really able to make out what exactly they were talking about.
It was halfway through the meal when I was getting terribly bored of listening to my future sister-in-law that I almost completely tuned her out and began to listen in to Jemma and Will's conversation instead.
"This next album has to be better than the last, Jemma, or it's not worth doing it all. It's going to require a lot of time and effort, but I think it can be done," Will said.
Jemma nodded in agreement with an expressionless face.
"I want awards, records, the whole thing," he went on. Jemma nodded again. It seemed like a lot to expect out of anybody especially because coming from someone who couldn't carry a tune if he tried (which he did in the shower every day until our dad demanded he stop).
Then I noticed he looked at her in a strange way and furrowed his eyebrows, "You didn't gain weight this past week have you because if you did that's got to go. Image is more important than ever as you get older."
"Will, you can't talk to her like that," I said as calmly as I could, turning to face my brother. I knew it was probably a bad idea to interject myself in their conversation, but I wasn't just going to let Will treat Jemma like she was some robot that existed only to serve him.
Will paused for a moment and arched his eyebrows, "Excuse me?" he said in a tone that was more annoying and obnoxious than intimidating.
"No, Will, excuse you," I countered crossing my arms, "She's a human. You don't get to put that much pressure on her that's not fair and you know it."
"Look, Oliver," Will said, crossing his arms to match mine, "You can leave. You don't have to be here. This is a conversation between Jemma and me. I'm her manager. All you are is a bad influence."
I looked over at Jemma. She was picking at her food. I think she knew what was about to come next and didn't want to watch. Meanwhile, Skylar's eyes were wide open.
"Why? Because I'm standing up for Jemma and showing her she doesn't have to let you walk all over her? Is that why I'm the bad influence?" I sneered.
Will rolled his eyes, "I'm not walking all over her. I'm helping her. She wouldn't be where she is today without me. If I hadn't picked her up off the streets, she'd still be a loser, just like you."
"Listen, Will," I said in almost a whisper to prevent myself from screaming, "I really don't care if you think I'm a loser, but you do not get to tell Jemma she needs to lose weight or change her appearance or win awards. She is enough as she is."
"Well, of course, you'd think that. You settle for things when there is better stuff out there. You don't know the difference between mediocre and brilliant," Will retorted arrogantly.
And then I punched him. Hard. Straight on the nose. With a closed fist.
Immediately, my brother screamed out in pain. I felt slight sympathy because I knew it must have hurt like hell, but I would have done it a million times for Jemma. Will didn't listen to words, but everyone listens to punches.
"Fuck you, Oliver," he yelled kicking my shin. He kicked with as much force as he could muster, but it still wasn't anything I couldn't handle.
Skylar had run into the kitchen and grabbed ice and cloths for Will's bleeding, probably broken, and soon to be bruised nose. She came back and started nursing her fiancé, but not before giving me a dirty look.
I glanced over at Jemma and to my surprise, I saw her sucking on her bottom lip with her top lip and squirming around trying to hold in laughter. I guess that punch was a long time coming and well deserved.
"We should go," Jemma said flatly, grabbing her purse and heading for the door, "Thanks for dinner, Skylar," she added casually.
"Just leave," Skylar said in a soft tone of voice that made me almost feel bad for her.
"C'est la vie," Jemma called as she grabbed my hand and we walked out of the apartment without looking back.
Jemma and I strolled silently to the elevator which made me nervous because I didn't know what she was thinking, but when the elevator doors closed and it was just the two of us, she made her thoughts apparent.
"That was a good swing there, Connors," she smirked, patting me on the back.
I smiled, "Maybe I am a bad influence on you. You might not know this because you don't have siblings, but it's actually frowned upon to punch them in the face."
"I know, I know," Jemma droned.
"So, you're really not mad at all?" I asked.
Jemma shrugged, "Let's just say, you hitting him is simply a fine demonstration of karma in action."
I laughed, "Jemma, you surprise me," I added as we arrived on the first floor and made our way to the Jeep inconspicuously.
As we drove back to Jemma's house, she told me her story, and everything my brother did to her and it broke my heart to hear, but I knew that it was never going to happen again.
"So, why didn't you ever drop him. Why didn't you ever tell anyone?" I asked.
"I don't know. I didn't know I could," Jemma answered honestly.
&nb
sp; "Well guess what?" I said.
"What?"
"You can tell me anything and I promise that what happened to you, is never going to happen to you again," I declared.
Jemma nodded and smiled. "I know, Oliver, and I hope you know you can tell me anything as well," she said, giving my shoulder a squeeze as I drove.
"I'm going to Jemma," I promised.
I knew this was the opportunity I had been waiting for. It was time to read Jemma the letter I had written for her when I was almost about to give up nearly three years ago.
When we got back to the townhouse, I ran upstairs straight away and pulled out the letter from under my pillowcase. Jemma had gone to her room to change out of her dress and into something more comfortable. I waited a few feet outside her door and reread the letter over and over again so that I wouldn't choke up when she popped back out.