Today was a slow day, mostly because I still had some reading to do for the section tomorrow. This slow segment felt earned, so that made it a little easier to write. 🙂
Before the awkward silence can properly settle in, Oliver pulls out into the road. He flips through the extent of Grand Harbor’s radio stations twice, then settles on a classical one. Despite the way he taps the steering wheel in time with the music and checks his mirrors like a kid taking their first driver’s test, the air in the car feels heavier and heavier.
“So, about what I said to you last night,” I begin hesitantly.
“About being a guy and a faerie prince and stuff?”
“Oh.” The drop in his enthusiasm doesn’t go unnoticed. “Yeah?”
“I shouldn’t have said it so harshly or in front of everyone. It wasn’t right.”
“I accept your apology and owe you one as well. I shouldn’t have attacked your insecurities in response, especially given my status.”
I smirk at him. “Chivalry and honor and all that jazz?”
Oliver chuckles. “Something like that.”
“My dad said something about that this morning, actually. About labels. He said you control them, they don’t control you. When you let them control you, you’re really letting other people control you.”
“No one controls me.”
“You made that apparent enough last night, but can you seriously tell me the way you think your mother, Kole and Kellen, and everyone at school perceives you has nothing to do with how reckless you can be?”
“If I hadn’t acted last night, Miguel could be dead.”
“I didn’t say your actions were wrong, but was that really your only motivation?”
Oliver’s lips purse into a thin line and we go through two green lights before he talks again. “I’ll keep that in mind in the future. What about you? Have you thought any more about labels?”
Should have seen that coming. “I’m still working them out. Can I keep you posted.”
“I’d like that very much.”
We decide to go for coffee after talking to Mr. Hob. If we go now, Maggie’s going to wonder while we’re not in school. Plenty of kids pass by the store daily, so telling her we didn’t have class is just going to get me in more trouble.
Walter isn’t at the Novel Spell when we show up either. It’s just Hob. With out a word, he hops down off his stool, locks the front door and takes down the “Open” sign the second we walk through the door.
“Come along,” he orders as he hobbles towards his office. “We have much to discuss and I don’t know how much time we have to discuss it.”
“Gia and I took the day off from school—”
“That’s not what I meant, Oliver,” Hob snaps. “If you think the past is all we have to be concerned about, then your mother greatly misled you. There is a great deal more than that.”
Oliver drops into the left arm chair in front of Hob’s desk and motions for me to take the other. “Wonderful. Let’s get started then.”