The M.O.F.T

When the neighbor finally passed away, Oli and C.J. finally get to see what was going on in old Mr. Nameless's house. But it is something much different from what they expected.


2. Oliver Marshall



Oli was my best friend. I mean, he is my best friend, to this day. He looked just like a good looking fourteen year old boy. That’s all. He was weird though. He had no problem expressing his feelings or talking to everyone. He was a little charisma machine. A guy like him is usually one of the popular guys, but he was stuck with me. I can easily say that he was the most amazing person I have ever known. I mean, he still is. He was different than other guys, and we had been best friends since first grade:

“This is our new student Oliver Marshall. He has just moved here from... where?,” sweet Mrs. Higgins mumbled pretending she knew what she was talking about. Mrs. Higgins sat on her desk at the front of the class with her arm around a gangly first grader with swoopy black hair.

“Holmes Chapel. Holmes Chapel, England,” Oli articulated using his charming British accent, and shot the class a suave ear to ear grin. And of course, all of the girls were wooed by accent and charisma. I, on the other hand, was not swayed by his mesmerizing raven hair and deep blue eyes.

I was already betrothed to Justin Timberlake. I knew he would wait for me.

“Oliver, why don’t you go sit next to Leanne?” Mrs. Higgins smiled without realizing she had half of her sandwich still caught in her teeth.

“Ello, Leanne,” Oli charismatically announced as he slid into his seat right in front of me. I wondered if he noticed that he was sitting in gum that Neil Thompson had spit into the chair not but several minutes earlier.

“Oh, hi! Haha, hello, Oli. I mean... Hi,” Leanne stumbled as she messed around with her hair clip accidentally yanking out her fake pink hair extension she had gotten from the boutique for 4.99.

Tapping Oli on the shoulder, I leaned forward and mumbled, “Hi, I’m-”

Oli swatted me away and made googly eyes at Leanne. Too bad Leanne was the one who glued his face to the table in fourth grade math.

Anyways, of course for the next week he sat with the girls at lunch and they made their kissy faces and junk. I sat at the faculty table debating Coach Martins on the importance of participating in P.E. I explained to him that if the nerds could forage doctors notes and get out of P.E, I had a right to get out on acount a cooties.

And to this day, Oli would be a popular jerk if it wasn’t for the seconds that followed.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered to Ellie Flack, who happened to be a nose picker, just by the way, and he got up to go get more tater tots. He strutted down the linoleum tiles like he was the king of the world. He was walking past the table I was at and I was not sure what to do. Even now, I regret nothing.

I stuck my foot out into the aisle. I don’t really know why. Just to be a jerk, I guess. And of course, he was too busy winking at girls to take notice, and he flipped forward over my light up sneaker. That wasn’t the embarrassing part, even though his face landed in nacho cheese. He shot up, shocked and stunned. And then, of course, he started crying, and everyone else around the cafeteria started howling and laughing. Here comes the worst part: Nurse Cartman leaned down and kissed him on the cheek and loudly whispered, “Oh you poor baby!”

From that day on, no one has even acknowledged him. Even being associated with him makes someone immediately uncool. People even called him “Loverboy”, and it stuck for nearly eight years. That poor dweeb.

Anyways, he got up off the floor sat down right next to me, reached into my chips, scooped cheese off his face and continued eating the nachos.

“Aren’t you Oswald?” I asked.

“Oli. Not Oswald. You can address me as Flame McAwesome, if you want.” He smiled really wide.

I sat there with a blank look on my face. He stared at me expectantly. “Oh!” I gasped. “I’m Charlotte-Josephine Elton.” I mumbled through my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

In the way that first graders do, he looked deeply into my eyes and said, “So C.J., do you wanna... you know, maybe... be best friends?”


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