Oliver Queen was a sap. Oh, his reputation might say different, but Felicity knew the truth.
This was supposed to be a summer fling. As in, visit her cool aunt, spend too much of her break catching up on some reading, visit the beach in an effort to not blind people with her pasty skin, and return home no worse than she started out. But then she ran into Oliver when his, way too, expensive car got a flat tire and he, being the over-pampered son of a billionaire, had no idea how to fix it. So, being the good samaritan her mother raised her to be, she gave him a hand, and he gave her his number, and she took him up on an offer to get coffee some time because she didn’t know anybody else her own age and there was no possible way to spin ‘I played a lot of bingo with my aunt this summer’ into something interesting.
And now, two months later, she was sitting in the back of her aunt’s grungy truck, parked beneath the trees down near a lake, a cool breeze trying and failing to fight the muggy summer heat, with her legs in Oliver’s lap.
"You could come back for Christmas break," he told her, his fingers circling her knee. "Or I could come see you. I could even take a trip out on Halloween. And Thanksgiving is day for sharing, so I’ll bring the turkey if your parents don’t mind me showing up randomly." He grinned over at her. "Then there’s New Year’s and Chinese New Year’s and Valentine’s Day and St. Patrick’s Day, and Easter…"
Felicity shook her head, helpless to a grin. “You realize a lot of those aren’t holidays. Like, I don’t think your school is going to give you Valentine’s Day off because you feel like it.”
He shrugged. “So I’ll pull a Ferris Bueller and drive up to see you.”
"Drive?" she scoffed. "You know, that’s what started this whole thing. You and your questionable driving skills."
He snorted. “I had nothing to do with that flat tire.”
"Maybe not, but if you can’t change a tire, then I don’t know how comfortable I am with you road tripping out to see me…"
He skittered his fingers up her thigh, tugging lightly at the frayed edge of her shorts. “You could always meet me half-way.”
Felicity watched him a long moment, her head tipped back against the truck window. “You know, I wouldn’t blame you if this thing ended as soon as I was gone. Whirlwind summer romance or whatever. I’m not going to pull a Sandy and show up, Grease-style, to ruin your cred.”
He laughed, his head falling back. “Are you sure? Because I bet I’m a better singer than you think.”
"I’ve heard you sing. Trust me." She shook her head. "Don’t.”
He chuckled, not the least bit offended. Digging around in his pocket, he came up with a Sharpie, the same he’d found in the glove box and had been using to draw a clear path on a map from Starling City to Cambridge, Massachusettes. He tapped her ankle with it absently. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Smoak?”
Felicity shook her head. “No, I’m giving you an out… I literally live on the other side of the country. I’m saying I won’t be bitter if this doesn’t work out.”
He hummed, looking down at her sneakered feet in his lap. “What if I don’t want it to?”
She watched him for a moment, looking more serious than he had a moment ago.
"I like you," he said, turning to look at her, a half-smile on his face. "I more than like you."
Felicity felt her heart thud in her chest. ‘Cause, truth be told, even though she was giving him that out, she didn’t really want him to take it. As far as whirlwind romances went, she kind of hoped this kept going. But reality was a bitch and their lives were unfolding in completely different places. Not to mention, she was a sixteen year old genius hellbent on going to MIT that grew up with a single mom working two jobs, while he was a seventeen year old heir to a billion dollar company who failed tenth grade algebra and didn’t even know if he wanted to go to college…
But, in their own way, they worked. He made her laugh and he never got uncomfortable when she rambled and sometimes when he smiled at her, she thought she could see cartoon hearts in his eyes. He was sweet and charming and definitely too good looking for his own good, which he totally knew, but that was okay. Arrogance wasn’t a fatal flaw, and he had to have some since she spent too much time counting all his lack of flaws. Of course, that could just be his chiseled face and ridiculously nice arms. She wasn’t perfect either. What person was? If he was arrogant about his looks or his wealth, she was arrogant about her smarts and her grades. Arrogance aside, maybe they were a good balance in some ways. A ying-yang of sorts.
Whatever. They were young and on the edge of falling in love and who cared if she lived across the country and they were just caught up in how it felt in the moment? They were allowed to be, right? Maybe it wouldn’t last past the summer. Maybe she would never see him again. Maybe he’d just be a nice memory of when she was sixteen and fell for a cute boy.
Oliver plucked the cap of the sharpie with his teeth, and, on the white top of her sneaker, he wrote ‘forever.’ It felt like a promise, or maybe a hope, or something in between that resembled a future that neither of them expected.
She returned home two weeks later, both happy to be back to what she knew and sad to leave behind someone different.
Oliver showed up on her door step on Halloween dressed as Robin Hood.
Forever might just be more possible than she expected.