Not a Love Story

Twenty-Five // Thought it Was a Dream

Benjamin Jones

I woke up feeling a weight on my arm. I opened my eyes, blinking to try and focus. Curled up next to me was Ollie, his head resting on my shoulder, my arm under his torso. I felt my heart skip a beat, looking down at him sleeping so peacefully.

I reached for my phone, trying not to disturb Ollie. I opened it to see messages in the football group chat.

Josh: Anyone heard from Greene?

Cal: I haven't. Still waiting to hear from Jones

Luke: Damn I hope he's doing okay

I quickly typed out a message to make sure everyone knew Henry was okay.

Greene's doing okay. he's got a nasty concussion and strained neck but he should be up and at it in about a month

I sent the message and let out a light sigh as I set my phone back down on the nightstand. I looked back down at Ollie, his eyes still closed and his breathing even. I carefully lifted my arm up to lightly rub circles on his back. My eyes felt heavy, the feeling of Ollie's head on my shoulder comforting.

Sunlight filtering through my curtains woke me up the second time. Ollie was still curled into my side, his head on my shoulder. I smiled down at him and rested my cheek against his head, his curls tickling my nose ever so slightly. I heard him groan quietly.

"Bright." he mumbled. I quietly chuckled.

"I know. I forgot to close the curtains all the way last night." I whispered. Ollie hummed in response and snuggled closer to me, my heart beating faster and faster.

His breathing evened out again and I snuck a glance down at him. He looked peaceful, the morning light filtering through the curtains washing over him.

"Shit." Oliver suddenly exclaimed, bolting upright.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up, instantly worried.

"Henry. I thought it was a dream. Shit." he said, reaching for his phone. "Have you seen my glasses?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah." I reached over and grabbed them, handing them to him.

"Thanks." he said, putting them on and scrolling through his phone. "They're releasing him at noon. So I have 3 hours to get down there." he said, looking at the time on the clock.

"When do you want to leave?" I asked. Ollie put his phone down and sighed.

"Sooner is probably better than later." he responded.

"We can eat breakfast then go?" I proposed. He nodded. "Okay. I'll get dressed and head downstairs." he nodded, followed by a look of confusion. "What?" I asked him.

"Did I, like, lay on you last night?" he asked, clearly embarrassed. I lightly chuckled.

"Yeah." I said.

"Oh god." he mumbled putting his face in his hands. "I'm sorry." he said, blushing. I kept chuckling and shook my head.

"It's totally fine, Ollie. No worries." I said, trying to ignore the tight feeling in my chest. He groaned and leaned back against the wall. I grabbed my clothes and went to the bathroom, quickly changing and exiting the bathroom to see Ollie sitting up in bed, looking out the window.

"How are you doing?" I asked softly, standing at the foot of the bed. He shrugged, still looking outside.

"Still worried," he started, finally meeting my eyes. "But less worried than last night. I know he'll be okay. I feel horrible for not being there. I should have been there." he confessed, voice quivering.

"Hey," I started, moving to sit next to him on the bed. "You can't beat yourself up over that. You never could've known Henry would get hurt." He nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap.

"Thank you for being there." he blurted out, seemingly surprised he said it out loud. "I know I said it a lot last night, but seriously, thank you. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't there." he said sincerely.

"Of course." I said, smiling at him. "So, how do pancakes sound?" I asked. Oliver nodded in response. "Cool. I'll get them started while you get ready?" I suggested. He nodded again, so I left to let him change.

As I jogged down the stairs, I saw my parents in the living room reading the paper.

"How's he doing?" my mom asked.

"Better. Still kind of shaken up, but better. And please try not to smother him. He's overwhelmed enough right now." I said, giving my mom a look. She laughed me off and I headed to the kitchen.

I was flipping the first batch when Ollie came down the stairs. Much to my surprise, he was still wearing my sweatshirt, but he'd changed into the jeans he'd worn yesterday. I felt a smile grow on my face at the sight of him with bed head, wearing my sweatshirt.

"Smells good." he commented as he slid onto a stool on the island right across from me.

"Why thank you." I said, earning a small grin from Ollie. I put the first few on a plate in front of him and started making some more. He sat there and watched me pour the batter and flip the pancakes.

"Why aren't you eating?" I asked.

"I'm waiting for you. I feel bad eating in front of you while you're still making some for yourself." he said. I felt my heart swell at his words, a smile breaking out on my face.

"You're adorable." I said, suddenly closing my mouth as soon as I realized what I'd said. "Uh, I mean, that's just really considerate." I pieced together, trying to save myself from embarrassment.

Oliver raised an eyebrow at me but just smiled and shook his head.

"Okay, weirdo." he responded, making me laugh. I thought I saw a light blush dust his cheeks, but I chalked it up to my imagination as I put some pancakes on a plate and sat down next to him.

"There, you can eat now." I said. He smiled before taking a few bites. "So?" I asked.

"They're pretty good." he said, smiling and nodding.

"Good." I said, trying not to let the one little compliment go to my head.

We finished eating in silence before heading to the car to go to the hospital.

"We're thinking of you all, Oliver." my mom said to him, offering him a sweet smile. He smiled back at her and nodded.

"Thank you, Mrs. Jones. I appreciate it." he responded. I waved goodbye to my parents before opening the garage door and getting into the car. Oliver was bouncing his leg in the car as he looked out the window, his anxiety palpable as we approached the hospital.

I pulled into a spot and parked, looking over at Oliver.

"Do you want me to leave or go in with you?" I softly asked. Ollie shook his head and started to unbuckle.

"No it's okay, you can go. You've done enough already, you don't need to spend another couple hours here with me." he said, lowly chuckling.

"I don't mind, really. Just say the word." I responded. He shook his head again.

"It's alright, Ben. I'll see you Monday." he said, offering me a weak smile as he opened the door and got out of the car. I waved at him as he entered the hospital, getting a weak wave back as the doors opened.