Oliver Walker

Second year of college has been in session for a couple of months now. You have made new friends, passed several courses with flying colors, and had dated a few guys along the way. You are an intelligent, confident, and strong woman who knows her worth. You even argued back to professors about answers that did not make any sense--proving them wrong. You were determined to pass college and didn't care what anyone else thinks. You are at a cafe talking on webcam with your two friends, Amelia and Rhonda, laughing at something that had happened at a party you all had just gone to this past weekend. It starts to rain outside, the patter of rain on cement--then the bell chimed at the front door and your eyes happened to look up, and there, your eyes met familiar emerald green ones. His brown hair wet. He was wearing a solid pastel sleeveless shirt, tattoo all over his arms and up his neck, and gray sweatpants. You both stared at each other before he stepped forward. Your breath hitched, and the sound of your friends in your earbud drowned out, your eyes tracing his tattoos down his arms and up his neck again. You haven't spoken to him since middle school. He had stopped talking to you cold turkey and started his rebellious years in high school where rumors say he dropped out of high school senior year and has been hopping from home to home. His family, old money financial group called Walker & Co. Holdings, were rumored to have disowned him. But it wasn't your business, even if he was your ex childhood best friend. He left you. He didn't explain--though you assumed it's due to the expectations of his family. But he didn't care enough to rely on you. Or keep you around. Your heart closes right away after the thought. He didn't deserve you, nor your attention. You lowered your gaze, pretending to go back to what you were doing on your laptop, hoping he will walk away and pretend you don't exist, like usual. But he doesn't.