Chapter Text
As Sara entered her house, the weight on her shoulder felt like it was lifted, and she collapsed onto the couch with a groan.
"Why are boys so difficult?" She spoke mostly as a rhetorical question, but her father still replied with a "i don't know" sound. He probably did know, but disrupting her peace wasn't what she needed. He would tell her later, maybe bring up the topic again to go through her troubles when she had settled.
The fact that they even made bets was enough to rattle her, especially from Patrick after what happened the time before. Having her first kiss stolen wasn't ideal, and she would definitely remember it for years and years. It made her wonder if she should also go on a date with Joe, and truly weigh her options, maybe see how it goes. Also to make Patrick jealous but she hadn't actually spent much time with Joe, and she would need to get to know him before anything real happened. She was jumping the gun a bit but was Lulu's advice not exactly what she wanted to do?
The night air was thick in Oliver's room, and he felt heavy with fatigue. He had been sat at his desk mulling over the night that played out. How Sara had gotten quite angry at both Joe and Patrick for betting on her like she was a prize to be given away- like she couldn't make her own choices. It made his heart ache for her, because truly they weren't exactly being the kindest and doing something so stupid just made him want to smack his brother upside the head. Really it was bad enough when Patrick and Sara were doing it but dragging his - dense with a capital D - brother into it made him feel like bursting into flames.
Although he had also figured out his feelings, he only wanted what was best for Sara herself and not to torment her further by pitching himself into the playing field. He was meant to be on the sidelines. That was where he was always supposed to be.
Sigh heavy and full of questions, he shot a text to Sara that read "Sorry for Joe" and just hoped it would be enough to save him from being in her bad books. His breath hitched as the notification noise rang in his ears only seconds later.
"Not your fault subs! We still on for monday? :)"
He hated how his face warmed in distaste for that nickname, but he supposed he would never be able to shake it. But most of all because whenever she called him Subs it reminded him of what could have happened the day they met. It might have put him off the whole encountering and ignoring the situation altogether, but he was grateful for their friendship.
He shot a simple "sure" back at her, and hoped that the weekend would pass quickly.
It did not.
Sara had come over the next day, gently knocking on the door to which Oliver answered. "Let me guess, here to see Joe?" Her nervous smile said she wasn't quite sure, but agreed to come in anyway. He gestured to the sofa to take a seat while he went off to grab him, and she sat as far away as she could from anyone that might walk out from the corridor. Anxiously fiddling with the hem of her skirt, she pressed her lips together in hopes it might ease her worries. This would have been so much easier with Patrick, she thought, but the point of not asking him was because she had already been on a date. She had to truly see how it went, and to if they were compatible and got along before it went any further.
Oliver was the first to walk out, Joe falling a little sheepishly behind. He wasn't normally one to be at all shy, but she had been crying when he asked before, bet on if he should "stay in the running" and been shouted at for doing so. Which meant when Sara asked it came to a shock to both boys in the room.
"Would you like to go on a date?"
Joe just stared at her blankly, mouth opening and closing like a fish sputtering nonsensical words. "Yes, he would." Oliver replied for him, before walking out of the room immediately to go back to his own room away from what was inevitably coming. Sara was looking expectantly, as though Joe himself had to be the one to confirm it, and he had snapped out of his daze before confidently proclaiming, "Yeah! I'd love that actually!"
Beaming at her answer, she shot up from where she was seated, taking a couple steps forward to close the distance she had made between the two of them. "Do you have a specific time frame you need to work with? When are you free?"
He seemed to think for a moment, before offering the idea of "How about today?"
However the sheer prospect of having no time to prepare made the blood run scared from her face. "Mhm, sounds like a great idea."
Wait, what?
"The sooner the better, right?" After one terrible date only yesterday she was hoping she would have at least a week or so to think things through, make some plans of action and maybe make a couple lists, but no. She couldn't find it in herself to reject him and that sad puppydog look she knew he was hiding behind that dreamy face and those cute dimples of his. "I just need to get changed."
As he looked down at what she was wearing, he realised she was still in her pyjamas, at 11 in the morning, which he both admired and found kind of cute. They had little lemons on them with a pink background, and a yellow shirt that said "Squeeze The Day", which could've very well been her motivation for coming over here today of all days. Sara hurried off, preferring not to be inspected at what was basically not clothing to be seen around people and across back to her house.
Stepping a single foot over the threshold of her door made her mind work overtime trying to think of places to go together, the sorts of plans to hold hands - or maybe even steal a kiss - what she should wear. Swallowing her pride, she shot Vicky a message.
"Help!! I need an outfit to wear for a date to i havent decided where yet!!!!!!"
The exclamation points were for dramatic effect, and it seems to have worked because she received a lightning fast reply.
"u got it grrl send pics and ill help u decide"
Sadly deciding was only the half of it. She didn't have anything to do with her hair. It was too late to ask anyone to help her with it.
Unless...
"Oliver youve gotta come help me rn its an emergency" She sent desperately, and when Oliver looked at his phone he was surprised to see that she used his actual name. He kind of hated it more than the friendly term she usually used. But that probably just meant that she was in a real pinch, so he decided to phone her, lifting the receiver up to his ear. As soon as she picked up he questioned what was wrong and what she needed from him.
"Do you know how to do hair?"
"Excuse me?" He sputtered, the shock evident in his voice. "I am not a salon I know very little about hair."
On the other end, Sara made a sort of hum, probably contemplating whether to ask or not. "Can you braid hair? Or use a curling iron?"
Some emergency that was. He hung up immediately.
Though at the same time, he did enjoy her company and she seemed truly desperate to ask him. He couldn't help but give his heart a moment to rest around her, as it put his mind at ease and made him feel safe. Even if she was just using him to help her with her hair. As he opened the door to his house, he was face to face with the legend herself, and he raised an eyebrow at her.
She looked wonderful. It was a fitted long sleeve grey shirt with some pearlescent beading around her left arm, and a white flowy skirt that brushed over the pink, raw skin on her knees from kneeling on the floor for half an hour deciding on an outfit. The blond did not let his eyes so much as wander an inch past eyeline and she puffed her cheeks out. "Stop looking at me like that okay I didn't have time to prepare properly for this." She sighed.
"I'll do it." He gestured to her hair and she looked like she could cry. "You so do have a heart." She blurted, clutching over her own for dramatic effect before grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him inside her house.
His face heated at the contact, hurrying to keep up with her speed. She made a beeline for her room where clothing was thrown all over her bed, and a few discarded pieces were on the floor. He had never actually used a curler, but his mother did occasionally and he remembers watching her do her hair as a child. That was good enough experience, right?
Hurrying to turn the heated tool on, she placed it on a heatproof mat that she had on her table and plopped down on the floor, a smile on her face. As he came up behind her and knelt tall so he could still reach all of her head, she leaned her head back against his chest so she could look up at him. "You're a lifesaver, Oliver."
There it was again. That stupid use of his actual name giving him dumb butterflies. Most of the time he forgot she did actually know his name. He just rolled his eyes at her, and told her to tilt her head forward. It looked like she had done some of the sides, but couldn't quite reach the back by herself which is probably why she claimed she needed his help so desperately. Picking up the iron, he got into separating small sections of hair to curl, being careful not to yank or pull at her hair at all. She closed her eyes.
The silence was quite nice, and she seemed very relaxed with what was akin to having her hair played with. Oliver on the other hand had burnt his left hand a number of times trying to hold the ends close enough to the hot curler. "I don't believe you couldn't have done this yourself, next time don't ask me." Sara tilted her head, and he followed the movement. "Maybe you should get into a habit of it. You're very gentle."
"Was I not supposed to be?" He questioned making it a point to gently pull on her hair. Not enough to actually hurt, but enough to cause tension. She raised her hands to try and bat him away, and he quickly manoeuvred the iron way from her. "Are you a child? I have a hot object right next to your scalp stop wriggling." With a laugh, she sat still again, humming softly. "If it turns out good are you sure you don't want to help me with it again sometime?"
After finishing, he took three strands of hair and braided it back on each side, tying it together in the middle. "No, I'd prefer not to."
When the movement stopped, she padded over to the mirror in her bathroom and took a look, a gasp squeezing through the fingers that rushed to cover her mouth. "I don't know hair my ass! This looks really good!" She exclaimed and made her way to the living room where the blond was almost at the door. She came barrelling at him to thank him with a hug, but he turned last minute so she ended up grabbing him from the side instead of behind. "Thank you Subway Boy."
This time he wrapped his free arm around her and gave a little pat, both as a "you can let me go now" and as a "you're welcome." Content with the response, she left with him and waited outside both of their doors, as Oliver made the trek to tell his brother his date was finally ready and waiting outside, and to remind her to wear a coat as it was due to rain. It was both a blessing and a curse in his eyes, but he was busy anyway. He just got lucky that he didn't have to stay there for any longer helping her or he would've got caught up and not done his work. As Joe and Sara waved him goodbye, the ache he felt was just a little bit uncomfortable and he couldn't find it in himself to hope for the worst on their date.
He had nothing but well wishes on his mind as he sat down at his desk, and mindlessly work at the task at hand, hoping desperately to keep such thoughts at bay.