Page 62 of Faux Real
“Yeah,” I say, keeping my tone light. “It was uh—it was really nice meeting you Mr. Knight and it was great you seeing you Mr. and Mrs. Redford, good luck on your campaign trail. You’ll do great.” I glance at Sawyer. “Have a good night, you guys.”
“Bye, Kenny!” Corrine sings. “See you next week! Love you!”
I wipe the corners of my eyes as Oliver leads us to the buffet table. That was a low blow, even for Corrine.
“You alright?” Ollie asks, craning his head.
“I’m fine,” I whisper, grabbing a plate and piling on three chocolate-covered strawberries. “Do you want one?”
“Sure,” Ollie hums, a frown marring his brows. “I don’t think you’re fine, Kenny. That was quite shitty what she said.”
“Yeah well, what else is new?” I sigh, my appetite nonexistent as I watch Oliver fill his plate with appetizers. “Someone’s hungry.”
“I’m a growing young lad,” Ollie jokes as we take a seat. He pops a grape in his mouth. “So... do you want to talk about it? I’m an excellent listener, lay it on me, Carmichael. Release your inner rage.”
“I have nothing to say,” I mutter, playing with the food on my plate. “It’s been like this for three years and it’s not going to change until we graduate, so I’m fine. Really.”
“Come on now, that’s a load of shit, you’re pissed off, let it out,” Ollie probes, hiking his ankle over his thigh. “It’s not healthy to keep anger bottled up, Kennedy. You need to acknowledge it, deal with it, and move on. At least that’s what my counselor told me.”
“You went to counseling?” I purse my lips. “For what?”
Ollie shrugs. “Fights in school. It was either counseling or expulsion. I opted for the former, well, at least until I got into another fight and then I didn’t have an optionbutto leave.”
“Why’d you fight?” I ask, leaning back into my chair.
“I don’t even remember,” Ollie admits. “Some tosser said something I think, I don’t know. I kind of blacked out when it happened.”
“Does that happen a lot?” I ask, lowering my voice. “You getting into fights?”
“Used to,” Ollie hums, averting my gaze. “Not so much anymore. Not since I moved to the States.”
“So maybe getting away was a good thing?” I offer. “A fresh start.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” he mutters. “Being thousands of miles away from my father also helps.”
“Dad sucks?”
Oliver snorts. “He’s my granddad’s son, what do you think?”
“Yeah, your grandpa is a bit—” I bite my lip. “Blunt?”
“Christ, you’re polite,” Oliver chuckles. “Yeah, blunt, let’s go with that.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes. “Why’d you tell them I was considering my options for college? I told you I don’t want to go.”
“‘Cause they’d judge you if you said that,” I explain. “Did you see how they were looking at Corrine? Best to avoid those looks.”
“Yeah, I saw but I don’t care if they judge me, Kennedy,” Oliver says, tilting his head. “It’s my life, not theirs.”
“Are you mad at me?” I ask in a low tone. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize, you were just trying to help, yeah?” he says, shoving a piece of salmon tartar into his mouth. “Blimey, this food is rank.” He winces, chugging a flute of champagne. “Did I just eatrawfish?”
I blink. “Do they not have sashimi where you’re from? Caviar?”
“I like my meat fried or grilled, Kennedy, and preferably from alandanimal; fish freak me the fuck out,” he says, pushing his plate away. “Can’t they serve burgers or something?”
“There’s a really good burger place a few blocks away.” I pause, adding with a grin. “They useland animals.”
“Really?” Oliver stands up, holding out his hand. “Shall we go?”
