Oliver had been trying to mingle around the venue since Stella had kissed him. He had tried to find Raven, but it had seemed that she had decided to leave early. He could have sworn he'd seen her earlier, but hers wasn't the only face he couldn't find. The venue was starting to empty as people made their way to their cars. Standing up from his chair and tossing his cup into the nearest garbage can, he made a lap or two around the inside of the club looking for his date.

Fortunately, it didn't take that long for his eyes to find her. As he made his way over, it occurred to him that maybe Stella didn't feel the same way about the kiss that he did. Then again, he was the one that had initiated the kiss, right? Walking up behind her, Oliver gently tapped Stella on the shoulder, which caused her to tense up and jump only slightly into the air as she made eye contact with him.

”Hey Stella?”, he asked, his tone slightly shy. ”Are you ready to go?”

”Oh, it’s you, Oliver!”

She was relieved in a way. She hadn’t been able to find him so she ventured a quick walk to the parking lot, hoping he’d find her at some point. After her talk with Penny ended and she failed to find him, she gave up hope, but lady luck was on her side yet again.

Warming up to him with a smile, though it was clear on the way her smile was a little less as wide as it usually was. “Y-yeah. I think it would be best we just left,” she admitted, not yet engaging in the talk she knew she had to have with Oliver but it was so awkward and hard for her to be the one to bring it up. Maybe he would so she didn’t have to.

Always a gentleman, Oliver led Stella to the car and opened the door for her to get in. Making his way to the other side and climbing in himself, the young man began the journey to Stella's house after programming the GPS through the awkward silence. Thought swirling madly in his head, it took all of five minutes before he brought up the subject at hand.

”So… uh…,” he began before having to clear his throat, suddenly feeling parched. ”What was… why… Why'd you kiss me, Stel?”

There was a part of Stella that wanted to pretend he hadn’t said anything. She could play it off as not hearing him and just react absentmindedly. People say she did that a lot with her not being aware of it. So it’s not like it would be out of the ordinary. Anyone who knew the girl knew about her tendency to flake in and out of conversation. She sometimes lost seconds and didn’t know how it happened.

But that didn’t change how she suddenly grew a little quiet. And it seemed like lady luck decided she was taking a break because they hit a red light. Stella knew it wasn’t that far from her house. Three blocks and she was home free, but if this was how the ride home was going to be like, she knew she couldn’t just avoid the question. Something had to be said. “Would you believe me if I said I was aiming for your cheek?” She responded, looking at him. She knew it was a totally ridiculous response. She knew it in her mind. And seeing him look at her the way he was for a long moment, she knew he knew it too.

Stopping promptly at the red light, Oliver waited for her response, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter when she did. ”I… yeah. Sorry Stella, but not really,” his voice sounding a little angry. ”I just… I'm not mad at you or anything, I swear. I'm just… a little confused. That's all.”

“Confused?” She repeated his word back to him. She was somehow finding herself feeling the same. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I just--” She paused again, seeing the shade of green hit the windshield. “Light’s green!” She announced, breathing out a small sigh of relief as car horns from behind them went off.

”Don't be,” he responded, still lost in a daze as the cars started to honk. Turning his attention back to the road, he took a deep breath before explaining. ”I… St…. Look. I'm gay, okay. That's why I'm confused. Because I've always liked guys and then you come along and I keep smiling at my phone like a fucking idiot and getting anxious when you don't text back. I adore that dimple in your right cheek when you smile. I'm confused because you're a girl. Not that there's anything wrong -... It's just that I've been really gay for a really long time and I think I like you, Stella, and it's confusing,” he explained, taking another deep breath.

The words had come out of his mouth in a nervous rush. Stella was the first person that he had actually come out too. Granted Martha knew, but she had just guessed. Oliver hadn't actually sat her down and explained it to her or anything. To say that his nerves were shot was a near understatement.

As he kept driving, Stella sat there as still as a pole, saying absolutely nothing and doing absolutely nothing. She couldn’t process it. Yes, the rumors were true. And all of the teasing Kavi had done to her had proven to be true, but there was also something else she knew to be true - something that, despite all signs pointing on way, a hidden path on the level of the game she seemed to be playing - had revealed itself to her and only her.

He liked her. Oliver Grayson liked me.

In her mind, she tried to come up with the right thing to say, but nothing she thought of seemed to be right. And what she felt was suitable for such a response from him never made it out of her mouth. Why was she having such a tough time trying to get a single response out? She honestly didn’t know and what was even worse, he had pulled up to her house. She looked to her house, seeing the lights still on and then she brought her nervous eyes to Oliver. How he must’ve been feeling since she said practically nothing.

She coughed a couple of times, looking at him again and still looked at him. “Oliver, I--” She stopped herself, the trembling sensation of anxiety passing through her body, already making her voice a cracking mess.

Why did she have to live so close to the damned country club? Attempting to swallow the lump in his throat, he shook his head. ”It's fine, Stella. You don't have to say anything. I uh… Unless you want me to walk you to the door, I guess I'll leave or whatever.”

She tried her hardest not to feel like she was in the wrong or that the kiss she gave him was what made the energy between them tense, but she couldn’t help it. It was because of the kiss that whatever was between them right now was awkward and it was because of everything that came afterward - her being swept away by Penny and then not talking to him immediately about it, her being as evasive as she could when he asked her a direct question - everything was, as Sonny might say, fucked. She wouldn’t use the word herself, but she knew of no other word that summed up what she was feeling about Oliver, about what she did.

It was fucked up and she hated it.

She gave him one more once over, choosing to smile as she shook her head. “I’m a little exhausted, but I’ll be fine,” she told him, forcing the widest smile she could. “I’ll..I'll text you tomorrow.” The words left her mouth without her even realizing it.

She had half of a thought to lean in and kiss him, but that would’ve been out of her own habit of how she liked to end dates or her just being genuinely friendly. After all that happened tonight, she knew that wouldn’t be a wise thing of her to do.

Stella opened up the passenger door and had a literal foot out the door, but then she turned around back Oliver. “You know, before the kiss, I was having a lot of fun. It had been a while since I had a date that didn’t end with me on the opposite end of rejection. So, thank you for that, Oliver,” she said to him, a warm, glowing smiling girl genuinely happy with her date.

Oliver let out a soft chuckle, the right side of his mouth tilting up ever so slightly into somewhat of a half smile. ”I really enjoyed tonight too, though I have to apologize for dumping all this on you. Who knows. Maybe we could hang out again sometime.” Watching her as she climbed out of the car, Oliver found himself with one last thing to say. ”Just promise you won't tell anyone? I… I haven't even told my parents. I know that people assume, and I don't blame them for it, especially considering that the assumption is correct. But I'm just not really ready for everyone to know quite yet. I… have some things to work out first,”

She looked back at him, nodding. “Of course! Your secret is safe with me!”

That was the last thing she said before she bolted for her house, clutch in hand and key in the other, the sound of Oliver’s car speeding off as soon as she made her way into her house.

It was no secret that he wasn't exactly the most liked guy. He didn't call the girls he dated back and when he did, he wasn't exactly the nicest about it. Kavi knew he wasn't perfect. Despite everything people said about him, he still thought he was a decent guy at best. He wasn't a jackass like Santiago. Now, if you were to compare notes, Kavi's misdeeds wouldn't even pale in comparison. All of the times he had let a girl down easy would be a blessing than how Diablo goes from one trash can to another. At the least, he could say that how he treated people was a step above Santiago Fernandez.

So, then if that was truly the case, why did Kavi not only get a full cup of punch tossed on him, staining his new suit, but after moments of having to sit with that, the victim of Ariel's mean right straight. He didn't understand it. Their date was great. He couldn't say much about the tease, Nadia, but he treated Ariel as nice as any man would, but apparently not telling her about his Friday plans last week was a red flag? Okay, Kavi understood that much, but did she really have to punch him? It wasn't like he had done anything to her tonight, well not texting her, but that was it! He did nothing to deserve such a brutal showing of her rage.

"Fucking A!" Kavi roared out.

His nose was a bloody mess. Slowly, drops of deep maroon permanently stained his suit. Pain surged through his entire face and his hair, which had been groomed with the perfect amount of gel and hairspray was effectively ruined and that wasn't even mentioning the crowd that had gathered around and near him. They must have been loving it. Yes, Kavi knew some of them and he knew they were satisfied by his current predicament. And why wouldn't they? Some of the faces he saw were the same ones that he tormented almost daily. He saw some of the nerds, the goths, and even the one he has, on several occasion, used as an armrest. You have to be loving this.

Kavi's foul mood didn't show any signs of dissipating as he let out a low grunt when certain onlookers gawked at him. It wasn't until he started to throw a tantrum, tossing over the beverages table, causing the crowd to disperse as if fleeing from a mad man.

"Mr. Salvador, are you okay?" Asked Mrs. Gonzales, one of the chaperones. She seemed concerned.

"I'm fine. go bother one of those losers." He pointed to the group of nerds eying Kavi warily.

She didn't seem convinced. "You're bleeding. Let me help you," she offered, approaching him.

"I said I'm fine. Just leave me the hell alone!" Came Kavi's erupting response.

And off he went, away from the chaperones, the dance, and just about everyone who was getting on his last nerve.

Kavi began walking towards the parking lot. As he was steadily approaching it, something hit him. He was leaving without April. "Son of a bitch!" He cursed, though it was far from being under his breath. He punched the wall next to him and on top of having a broken nose, his left index, middle, and ring finger knuckles were now bleeding. "This night can't possibly get any worse?"

"Kavi Salvador?" He heard a voice from behind him.

"Yeah, who's asking?" He slowly turned around and what he saw really made what happened to him no more than ten minutes ago seem like a welcome experience. What he saw in front of him was, as he ran the punch-moistened hair through his hand, the very definition of a sour apple on top of his shit pie. "Officer," he said as if he had accepted the knock-out punch coming his way. "How can I help you?"

"You are Kavi Antonio Salvador, son of Nikai Parata, owner of the Ferrari outside?" The officer asked him.

Kavi stood there for a moment. He was trying to figure out when exactly this night went wrong. Was it when he forgot to text both Nadia and Ariel? Or maybe it was egging Diablo on by dancing with his on-again, off-again April. Perhaps it was not being a better guy and indulging in some not-so-legal practices. Sure, he wasn't perfect, but surely his actions haven't brought him to this moment where he knew everything was going to change.

"I have a feeling you're going to arrest me, so I'm just going to say this now." He paused as he coughed, clearing his throat. "I'm not saying anything until I see my lawyer."

What came next was straight out of a syndicated episode of Cops: Kavi was forced against the very wall he punched, his arms were placed over his head as the cop searched him, and the cop proceeded to cuff him one wrist at a time while repeating the same old line all police officers say.

"Kavi Salvador, you're under arrest for reckless driving, fleeing from a police vehicle, and in possession of a stolen vehicle. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you desire an attorney and cannot afford one, an attorney will be obtained for you before police questioning."

And throughout the entire time the police officer was saying that and walking Kavi down the walk of shame, he kept repeating the same phrase over and over again.

"I want my lawyer. I want my lawyer. I. Want. My. Law. Yer."

In response, Kavi was placed in the backseat and the police car he was in took off. It left the Crown Heights Country Club and Kavi Salvador had a personal police escort to the Palm Beach Police Department.

What a cherry topper to a magnificent night, right?

The morning Estelle Lambert had was not a fun one. She had gotten home close to midnight last night and almost immediately after she had gotten out of the shower and she got into her Nostalgia Jammies (her words) of Bubbles from the 90s Powerpuff Girls cartoon series, she had fallen asleep.

From the time between her waking up only six hours later, she had a dream. It wasn’t just the run of the mill dream that she always had, which that is to say she usually drempt of things that were happy-go-lucky (much like Stella herself) or something that happened recently. It was during the six hours, she found herself inside a beautiful palace and in the arms of someone, she couldn’t see. A bright, yellow light had blocked most of his face. All she could make out was how she felt completely safe in his arms. She hugged to him as if her own life depended on it. And he embraced her just the same, though it was with a gentle touch. He was taller than her, but she never felt like she was small compared to him. As she took to his form for a comforting embrace, the sounds of a peaceful, serene, and somewhat romantic arrangement of a string quartet and a piano played as they slowly waltzed across the ballroom.

“Stella., I love you..”

His voice made every inch of her body tingle with a nervous appreciation, causing her to hug to his body even tighter and tighter and..

THUMP!

Stella’s rude awakening came in two parts. The first being the unwelcome sight of the cold hardwood acting as her temporary bed, her blanket and pillow over her head, blocking the bright sun from penetrating the blue and yellow pillow casings and comforter she was forced into wearing. Part two was the loud musings of her ironic alarm that was singing to the tune of Walking On Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves.

“Sometimes I hate the world,” Stella mumbled to herself, fighting (and failing) to free herself from her pillows and blankets.

After a long five minutes of being forced to hear the same “I’m walking on sunshine” hook almost twenty times. At this point, she was tired of it and yelled at the top of her lungs. And wouldn’t ya know it? That was just the strength that she needed to break free of it. It was, at that very moment, did Stella wake up to the sight of her entire family looking at her. Her cousins, who were just as amused as her aunt, uncle, and parents, were laughing through their hands over their mouths.

“You okay there, Stells?” Winnie asked.

After spending a moderate moment of pouting, she simply nodded.

“Good. Now get dressed, sweetie! We leave in thirty!”

Without even an opinion from the rest of her family, let alone her, Frank, her often impatient father, had made his demands. And for the next three hours, she would be a walking zombie, barely existing in the backseat of her father’s Van as they saw her Uncle Wesley and Auntie Florence depart for the one-way flight from Miami International to Paris. She wished she could go to Paris. That had always been her dream ever since she did her ancestry project in her Junior year and found out she was half-French. Being able to soak up the family heritage was something deeply passionate to the teen.

As it was close to ten, Stella and her parents got back into the van and they drove off. Not even ten minutes on the highway and her father, who was behind the wheel, spoke up. “So, Stella, tell us how did homecoming go? Was Oliver a gentleman like he said he would be”

She froze in her seat, sinking into it as she avoided her father’s curious gaze through the mirror. And her mother saw this. In an attempt to save Stella from Frank’s typical embarrassing behavior, she decided also speak up.

“Frank, dear, you can see Estelle is quite tired, can’t you?”

“Can’t. I’m driving. I can’t take my eyes off the road.”

“Then do just that. In silence.”

Her mother’s tone was quite cold as her father uncharacteristically perked up and didn’t utter a single word. Stella knew her mother had what most called kryptonite. Her cousins from her mother’s side of the family often spoke about the Ice Witch of the Monroe Family. He always assumed they meant her Grandma Chelsea, but right now she knew it was about her mother, Melissa Monroe. She didn’t need to say thank you. She knew her mother found joy in making her father squirm. So instead, she relaxed and took out her phone. She sent two text messages. The first to Oliver, which read.


And the second was sent to Penny.


Shortly after sending that second message, Stella had fallen asleep with her phone in hand to the sounds of her mother’s berating of Frank’s grandma speeds he called normal driving speed.