My Escape Chapter 8 (Part 2)

**Hi everyone! I am back from Disney and let me tell you it was amazing! Anyways, thanks for all of the comments left while I was gone :) This chapter isn't too long, but I'll have the next one out tomorrow!! Hope you enjoy!!**

I rolled my eyes and he pointed it out yet again. I laughed and then sat up in the back seat to give him room. He looked so cramped on the floor. He sat next to me and then grabbed my hand. He said, "We’re going to have a thumb war, alright? If I win, you tell me something, if you win, I’ll tell you something. It has to be about you and it has to be something I don’t know already."

"I get to tell you whatever I want?" I asked him. As long as he didn’t ask me questions, I could tell him all about myself. I just wasn’t going to tell him the really private stuff; like my mom and my dad.

He nodded and then said, "Go."

He won the first game.

I sighed and then told him, "I’m deathly afraid of spiders."

"Spiders?" he asked; a mocking grin on his face. When I nodded, he said, "So now if you make me mad again, I’ll know how to get you back."

I punched him on the shoulder and said, "If you did that, I would never talk to you again."

"Some things don’t require talking," he replied huskily. I felt my neck start to heat up; the flames starting at the base and then slowly making their way up to my cheeks. I hated blushing in front of the boy.

He flicked my thumb with his and then we started to play again.

I won.

He told me, "The smell of yogurt bothers me."

"Wait…what?" I asked him, smiling. I hadn’t smiled this much in forever.

He nodded and replied seriously, "I’m not kidding. Like if my dad or mom eats in the kitchen, I’ll leave the room. It makes me want to puke."

I laughed and then told him, "So if you make me mad, I’ll sneak into your room and hide a thing of open yogurt somewhere."

He joked, "I like the whole sneaking into my room part."

"I’m sure you do," I said and then heard my cell phone beep. I withdrew it from my pocket and saw that my dad was calling me. I told Oliver I would just be a second and then answered, "Yeah, Dad?"

"It’s three o’clock; where are you?" he asked. You’d think he’d sound mad or angry or upset, but nope. He sounded perfectly fine; he didn’t even sound tired. I still had no idea why he called though. It was probably him thinking that I was with a guy and that he calling would break up whatever we were doing. Too bad all we were doing was having thumb wars.

I looked over at Oliver and noticed him staring at me. He gave me a small smile when he caught my eyes and then I faced the floor. I told him, "I’m…um…with a friend. I don’t know when I’ll be home."

My dad asked, "Why don’t you just stay the night at Claire’s?" Stupid guy, he thought I was with Claire. If he knew he I was really with, he would flip. And then he would tell my brother and then Greg would kill me.

"She has something in the morning, but um…" I looked over at Oliver and then looked he was giving me made me want to spend the night at his house. Yeah, that wouldn’t be very smart. I shook the idea from my head and then turned to face the floor again. "I should be home in an hour, maybe two?"

"Okay, I’ll be up," he said and then hung up the phone. Of course he was still going to be awake; he was always awake.

"You have to go home?" Oliver asked me, disappointed clear as a bell in his voice.

"Nope," I told him, noticing the cheerfulness in my voice. I really was having a good time; I hadn’t had a good time in far too long. I was in no hurry for it to end.

He smiled and then asked me, "Your dad doesn’t care?"

"My dad would much rather wait up for me then go to bed; trust me," I told him and then sighed. I hated that my dad never got any sleep, but I understood why he did that. It was the same reason why I hated going to bed too.

"You want to tell me why?" he asked, bumping his shoulder into mine. Did he really want to get to know me better or did he just want to hook up with me? The answer was starting to get foggier and foggier.

I shook my head and then asked, "Are we going to thumb war again?"

He looked at me keenly for a few seconds and his chocolate brown eyes melted my insides. He asked, "Are you ever going to tell me anything?"

"I told you about the spiders!" I exclaimed in my defense. Why did he want to figure out so much about me?

"I want to know more, though," he told me and then laced his fingers through mine. My heart beat started to increase and I started to get worried. He looked serious and I didn’t do serious very well.

"Why?" I managed to croak out. I wanted to change the subject.

"Because I…" he trailed off and then looked over me. "I…" he started again, but then he just shook his head and said, "Oh, what the hell?" He quickly cupped his hand around my head and then brought his lips down on mine. Thank God he hadn’t brought up our feelings yet. Making out I could handle.

So that was why when he tried to pull away, I wrapped my arms around his neck and scooted to where I was sitting on his lap. I couldn’t do the talking thing right now; I needed to be doing something else. And this something else…well, it wasn’t exactly half bad.

All of a sudden, he was too preoccupied with making out with me than talking. Exactly what I needed. This kissing wasn’t the same as the other two though; this one was just to distract him so that he wouldn’t talk. I liked kissing him when the intent behind it was to be kissed. Now, he didn’t know I was distracting him, but I did.

He pulled away and murmured my name. Oh no, more talking. I threaded my hands in his hair and then feverishly pulled my lips back to his. I knew that we would eventually have to talk. We couldn’t make out in the back of his truck forever; could we?

This time, when he pulled away, he made sure that I didn’t divert him again. He placed his hands on my shoulders and then told me, "I like you, Kara. I want to go out with you."

My heart sank. Maybe I did like him, but I couldn’t act on those feelings. I had thought that he was a player that hooked up with random girls and I had been okay with kissing that. I had known that it was just a one time--well technically two time, now three time--thing and I had been good with that. I couldn’t do anything permanent, not with my life the way it was.

"Oliver…I…" I droned and then looked out of the window behind him. His face was too intense, too hot. "I didn’t think…I thought that you didn’t do dates."

He looked worried. "I’m not a man-whore like you think. I am friends with girls who may want more from me, but I don’t give it to them. If I like a girl, I’ll ask them out, if I don’t, I won’t."

I gave him a doubtful look and then he said, "Look, if you’re not interested in me, then how come you keep kissing me?"

I sighed and tried to come up with a response. I just didn’t have one. I liked kissing him; loved it actually. But I couldn’t tell him that. If I told him that then he’d ask why I didn’t want to go out with him and it would start that big argument. He pointed out, "Ten second rule. You don’t have an excuse. You obviously like me."

That was when I decided to become the bitch again. He was being cocky and arrogant, so I had an excuse to be an ass. "Why would I like you? You’re a cocky, annoying alcoholic."

He rolled his eyes at me and asked, "Are we seriously back at this? I thought that we were getting along…"

"Of course we’re back at this, Oliver! Me and you…we fight too much. Our personalities clash. We’d be stupid if we dated," I explained. I hated saying the words out loud. Truth was that I did want to see him again. I still wanted to kiss him. I hated being around him, but then again I loved it.

I hated how I lost control of my body around him, but then again, I also loved it. I didn’t know exactly why this was-maybe the chemistry in body was jacked up-but I liked it. For the past couple of days, Oliver had been the last thing I had thought about before going to bed. Maybe it had been because I hated him at the time; but now, seeing this side of him, I really liked him.

And I hated that.

"Fine," he said. I could tell he was trying to cover up the disappointment in his voice, but I could still hear it. He was angry at me; he no longer wanted to date me. Good. I wanted him to like me, I really did, but so much bad would come at us if we did end up together.

He climbed into the front seat, re-started the car, and then quickly drove onto the road. In the back seat, I could feel tears started to creep their way towards my eyes. I hated crying; hated it. I hated seeing Oliver’s hurt expression through the rearview mirror.

The ride to my house was eerily silent. I wanted him to talk to me again; to tell me that we could still hang out. But then again I didn’t. I hated how confused he made me. The basis of it was that I loved hanging around him; arguing and kissing. But then again, I hated it because I knew that there were so many things against us.

When we pulled in the driveway, I remained in the truck for a few seconds to see if he would say something. He didn’t. Biting down on my bottom lip to keep from screwing myself over and telling him I really felt, I hopped out of the back seat.

As I started up the driveway to the front door, I heard him call out my name. My heart hit my chest with a loud thud. I turned around and slowly made my way over to him. He wasn’t smiling. Uh oh.

"Yeah?" I asked him, my voice all dry and scratchy.

He looked at me and then asked seriously, "So what exactly was I to you? Just someone to practice insults on? Something to laugh at after I was gone?"

I shook my head and insisted, "Of course not." Did he really think that of himself? Did I really seem like someone who would do that to him? If the answer was yes, then I was seriously a bitch.

"Then what was I?" he asked me. He was really angry. I hated seeing his face without that toothy grin I had known to love and hate.

I sighed and thought about it. What had he been to me? At first, he had been some crazy guy who popped up everywhere and annoyed me endlessly. But after tonight, he seemed like so much more. We had had fun together. He had gotten my mind off of my dad. He had made me smile. Not many people were capable of that.

He smiled sardonically and said, "Well that silence told me everything."

"Oliver…I…" I started to say, but he was already gone. Out of the driveway, out of my life; he had left. For some reason, this made my heart feel like it would shatter.

My night of fun, of Oliver, was over.