by Alex Grayson
“Why?” I ask. I have my suspicions, but I want to get Rylee’s take on it before I say anything.
“Have you noticed how much weight she’s lost the last couple of months?”
I sigh and rub the back of my neck. No longer hungry, I push back the plates I started making for me and Savannah and lean against the counter. The worry I’ve felt over the last couple of weeks that I’ve been trying to ignore comes to the forefront of my mind.
“I have. I was wondering if it was only me who noticed.”
Rylee’s eyes move to me. “It’s definitely not only you.”
“Maybe it’s just stress from school,” Z suggests, wrapping a comforting arm around Rylee’s waist. “We all know how tense it’s been.”
Rylee shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s it. School has always been a breeze for Savannah. She’s naturally smart, and I know for a fact she hasn’t been struggling.” She looks down as she begins picking at her nails. “Savannah has… always battled with anxiety regarding her weight. I don’t know why, her parents are great, and Lord knows she’s never even come close to having to worry about being overweight.”
She looks up and meets my eyes. I flinch as guilt fills my stomach. All the taunts I threw at Savannah about her weight feel like fucking acid eating away at me.
“You had no way of knowing, Oliver,” Rylee says, guessing my thoughts.
Her soothing voice does nothing to calm the rage coursing through me. No goddamn wonder Rylee got pissed anytime I mentioned Savannah’s appearance. Or the look of hurt on Savannah’s face she always tried to hide. That pain is what fueled my taunts, knowing that it bothered her.
I should be sucker punched about five hundred times for that.
I clear my throat of the lump nearly choking me. “What exactly do you think’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I asked her a few days ago what was going on and she said she’s been having stomach issues. She was supposed to make herself a doctor’s appointment, but I’m not sure she ever did. I’ve tried bringing it up, but she always gets pissed at me when I do.”
“Well, she’s just going to have to suck it up,” I growl.
“Oliver, we have to approach this delicately.” She walks over and places her hand on my arm, looking up at me imploringly. “I’m afraid if we come on too strong, we’ll push her away.”
I grind my molars. I get what she’s saying, but I don’t like it. The last thing Savannah needs is to feel like we’re attacking her, but fuck if I’ll let her neglect her health.
“Fine,” I grunt. “What do you suggest we do?”
“Let me talk to her.”
Rylee’s right. They’ve been friends for years, while I’ve put her down again and again about her weight. And together now or not, if I approach her with this, I have no doubt the outcome won’t be good.
“You know she’s right, Oliver.” Zayden gives his opinion with a frown. “You and her don’t have a good history, these last few weeks excluded. She’ll go on the defensive and it’ll backfire.”
“I fucking know, okay.” I take a deep breath. “Tonight. I want you to talk to her tonight.”
Rylee nods. “I will.”
I turn away from both of them and grab my beer. My nerves are shot and the knot in my stomach grows tighter. I don’t know how bad this thing with Savannah is—it could be nothing for all we know, but there’s no way I’ll take a chance.
I think back to what she looked like when we met in my kitchen last year, when her sharp tongue laid into me for the first time. Her weight was perfectly proportionate. I remember being blown away by her looks and the shape of her body. She’s definitely lost weight since then. And I noticed over the last few weeks she’s losing more and more. While I’ve had some concerns, I also know how girls go crazy over their body image. Constantly trying new diets and weight loss programs. But for the most part, it doesn’t get out of hand. I don’t know what Savannah’s doing to lose weight, but it’s definitely getting out of hand.
Just this morning, when I woke up in her bed and pulled a creeper by watching her sleep, I noticed her hip bones sticking out too much above the hem of her shorts. I passed it off as how she was laying.
What if it’s something more?
What the fuck are you doing, Savannah?
18
SAVANNAH
“Hey.” Rylee knocks lightly on my bedroom door right as I’m slipping the towel from my damp hair. She peeks her head in to make sure I’m decent before coming the rest of the way inside.
“Hey.” I rub the towel along the ends of my hair to sop up the remaining water before tossing it in a nearby laundry basket.
“You got a second?” She gently closes the door behind her.
“Um, yeah. What’s up?” I arch a brow, confused by the cautious way she’s approaching me.
She crosses the room and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, patting the mattress next to her. “Sit,” she requests.
“Okay,” I draw out, gingerly taking a seat next to her.
“I have something I need to talk to you about. And I need you not to get upset, okay?”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what you’re about to say?” I swallow past the nervous knot that forms at the base of my throat.
“It’s about your weight.” She pauses, gauging my reaction—when she gets none, she continues. “I know we talked about this a while ago and you said you were having some stomach issues. Did you ever make that doctor’s appointment you we’re talking about?”
“Is this because I didn’t want Chinese food?” I gape at her. “For fuck’s sake, Rylee. Really?”
“It’s not just about the Chinese food, it’s about all food. You think I haven’t noticed, but I have.”
“Noticed what exactly?”
“How you rarely ever eat and when you do, half the time you end up getting sick.”
“What exactly are you implying?” I try to keep my temper at bay. Flying off the handle will surely give me away, and the last thing I want to do is play into her hand. I know her. I know what she’s fishing for—the telltales that she’s looking for. And I’ll be damned if I give them to her. Clearly, my best friend is a lot more observant than I was giving her credit for.
“I’m not implying anything. I’m asking. Are you really okay, or is there something else going on?”
“There is something going on. I’ve already told you. I’m having issues with my stomach. I think maybe it’s an ulcer or something.”
“You’re sure that’s all there is? Because if something else is going on, you know you can tell me.”
“What is this?”
“What do you mean?”
“This.” I gesture between the two of us. “I feel like you have something you want to say and for some reason you’re skirting around it like you’re afraid to say it.”
“I’m worried you have an eating disorder.” She pushes the words out in a rush. “And I’m not the only one that thinks so. Oliver and Zayden have noticed too.”
Anger pulses through my veins, and while she may have hit the nail right on the head—though I would never admit it out loud—the fact that they’ve been discussing my eating habits behind my back is both embarrassing and hurtful.
“You guys have been talking about me?” I draw back slightly.
“It’s not like that. We’re just worried about you.”
“I already told you. I think it’s a stomach ulcer.” I try to reel in my emotion.
“Then why haven’t you gone to the doctor?”
“Who said I haven’t?”
“V.” She gives me a knowing look.
“Fine. I haven’t. But it’s only because I’ve been so busy. It’s not like my doctor is around the corner. I have to drive all the way home.”
“All the way.” Rylee nearly rolls her eyes. “Savannah, it’s like a thirty-minute drive. Try again.”
“Yeah, it’s only a thirty-minute drive. But the
n I’ll have to stop and see my parents. They’ll insist I stay for dinner. And then the next thing you know, one doctor’s appointment has cost me an entire day.”
“But when something isn’t okay, you need to prioritize these things.”
“I’m not a child, Rylee,” I bite, growing tired of this conversation.
I don’t see what the big deal is. Okay, I’ve lost some weight. And while yes, I know I have a problem, I also know that I can handle it. I wish she’d stay out of my business this one time and leave me be.
“And I’m not trying to treat you like one. But, V, I love you. And if there’s something wrong with you, I’m going to worry about you until it’s taken care of.”
“Fine. I’ll make a doctor’s appointment first thing tomorrow. Will that satisfy you, Mother?”
“Stop it.” She nudges me gently with her elbow. “Now what do you say you come out and try to eat something. I got you your favorite.” She smiles in an effort to lighten the mood.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t have the effect she’s going for, because after everything she’s just said, I’m feeling beyond agitated and a little panicked.
One thing is for sure, I’m going to need to be a lot more careful when it comes to eating around her, and apparently, Oliver and Zayden too. I don’t relish the thought of forcing myself to eat when I don’t want to, but I can’t have them all whispering behind my back either. Until I can get this thing under control, I need to pretend like everything is perfect.
“I told you I already ate,” I remind her, not wanting to backtrack now. “Besides, I have some school work I need to catch up on. Maybe I’ll heat up some leftovers later.”
“School work?” She gives me a weird look. “I thought you were hanging out with Oliver tonight.”
“I was. I mean, I am. I just have a few last-minute things I need to get done before the break. You go eat. I’ll just be a few more minutes.”
“V….” She hesitates.
“Please, Rylee. For the love of God, I’m fine. But if I tank this assignment because you won’t leave me alone for five minutes, I most definitely will not be okay.”
“Okay. Okay.” She holds her hands up in front of herself, pushing to a stand moments later. “What should I tell Oliver?” She pauses next to the door.
“Exactly what I just told you; that I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Okay, but you know he’s a shitty listener. I can’t promise he won’t come back here anyway.”
“Well, I’ll deal with him if he does.” I push to my feet, trying to act as normal as possible even though I feel anything but.
“Okay.” She hesitates a moment before leaving my room, pulling the door shut behind her.
I take a deep breath in and let it out slowly.
I don’t know why I’m so mad. I should be happy that I have people in my life that care so much about me. But to be the topic of conversation—especially when I’m not included in said conversation—it bothers me… a lot. Probably more than it should.
I grab my bag from the floor and drop it on my bed, emptying the contents onto the mattress. I lied to Rylee. I have no school work. I just didn’t want to walk out there and have everyone’s eyes on me—especially knowing what they’re all thinking. But to make the lie believable, I toss open a few books and take a seat on the bed.
As Rylee predicted, less than ten minutes pass before Oliver pushes his way into my room without so much as a knock. His gaze goes from me, to the mess of books on my bed, and then back to me.
“What are you doing?” he asks, quietly closing the door behind him. He seems hesitant and given the way I’m feeling at the present moment, he should be.
“I had a few things I needed to finish up really quick.”
“And it couldn’t wait?”
“No, Oliver. It couldn’t,” I snap.
“Calm down there, killer. It was just a question.” He makes his way toward me, shoving a couple books out of the way before taking a seat directly in front of me. He tucks his left leg in and leaves his right hanging over the side of the mattress.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I just really wanted to get this done.”
“Don’t apologize. I get it. The last couple of weeks I’ve been up to my fucking eyeballs in ridiculous assignments. I swear, how they think any of this shit is going to help us in the real world is beyond me.”
“Yeah,” I agree, fidgeting with the pencil in my hand.
“Are you done now?”
“Huh?” I question, not sure I follow.
“With your school work…. Are you done?”
“Oh.” I look around the bed. “Yeah.” I nod once.
“Well, then let’s get this shit cleaned up.” He picks up a notebook and two textbooks before turning to drop them on the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“Moving this shit.”
“Why?”
“Because I can think of a lot better use of this space.” He gives me a knowing look and instantly my skin prickles.
“Is that so?” My earlier tension from my conversation with Rylee starts to fade into the background.
This is what I need. A distraction. Something to make me feel semi-normal when I feel anything but. And while I’m irritated with Oliver for taking some part in why Rylee came in here to talk to me in the first place, I don’t want to think about any of that right now.
“It is.” He grins, shoving the remaining books to the floor as he pushes to his knees and crawls toward me.
----
“So.” Oliver’s hand traces up and down the back of my arm as I lay tucked into his side. “What’s this I hear about us going to your parents’ for Christmas dinner?”
My back goes rigid as I lift my head off his chest and peer up at him.
“What do you mean us?” I croak.
I invited Rylee, as my mom requested. And I knew that she had invited Zayden, because let’s be real, she doesn’t go anywhere without him these days. But I wasn’t aware anyone had told Oliver about it. I had zero intentions of inviting him.
“You know…. Me, you, Rylee, and Z.”
“You are not coming to my parents’ house,” I tell him, not missing the slight twinge of hurt that crosses his face.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because.”
“Because is not a reason. You don’t want me to come?”
“It’s not so much that.” I knead my bottom lip between my teeth. “It’s just… well, my parents are really sweet people. They uh, they’re not really accustomed to being around someone like you.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is there something wrong with who I am?” He sits up, bringing me up with him.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” I shift in the bed so that I’m facing him.
“Then what exactly are you saying?”
“No offense, but you’re kind of crass. And you have a really dirty mouth.”
A smile tugs at his lips.
“So, you don’t want me to meet your parents because I have a dirty mouth?” He seems amused, which is better than being mad.
“I heard how you spoke in front of your father,” I remind him.
“That’s different. He’s my fucking father. I’m honestly kind of offended that you don’t think I know how to conform to an audience. Fuck, I’ve spent my whole life doing just that.”
“Well, it’s not like I’ve known you for very long. Not really anyway.”
“I don’t know.” He reaches out and cups my bare breast. “I think we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well over the last few days.” He smirks.
“Stop it.” I swat his hand away. “You know what I mean.”
“What if I promise to be on my very best behavior? Then can I come?”
“Why do you even want to? I thought family gatherings weren’t your thing.”
“When it comes to my family, yes. But I think I’d rather like to meet the people who brought yo
u into this world.”
Something about the way he says it makes my heart pick up speed.
It’s so strange. How quickly I went from hating him to being completely taken with him. He’s not perfect by any means, but honestly, that’s one of the things I love about him the most. He is who he is, and he doesn’t apologize for it.
Did I mention love in reference to Oliver Conley?
I shake off the thought. I can’t love someone that I barely even like. But then again, even I know that’s not true. He’s gotten under my skin in a big way. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t absolutely smitten by him…. And his dirty mouth.
“No cursing, especially at the dinner table. And you can’t get mad when my father asks you twenty questions, or my mother force feeds you a million calories worth of pie—because she will.” I pause. “And if anyone asks, we are not serious.”
“But we are,” he disagrees.
“Oliver.” I give him a knowing look.
“What? We are serious.”
“Are we really, though?”
“What would you call it?”
“Casually dating.” I shrug. “Hooking up,” I tack on.
“There’s nothing casual about this for me.” He tugs me toward him, pulling me into his lap. His hand sweeps across my shoulder as he pushes my hair away from my face. “I’m all in.”
“All in?” I swallow around the question.
“All in,” he repeats. “As in, I want to be your boyfriend. Your very, very serious boyfriend. I don’t take what we’re doing here lightly, and I don’t want you too either. We started out unconventional, I’ll give us that.” He chuckles. “But I want this, V. I want you. It’s fucking scary as hell to admit that, but it’s the truth. You’re mine now.”
“You say that like I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“Because you don’t.” He turns abruptly, my back coming to rest on the mattress moments later as he pins me beneath him. “Now say it.”
“Say what?” I stare up at him, stunned by how gorgeous he looks hovering over me.
“That you’re mine.” He wedges my legs open, settling his hips in between my thighs. His thick erection presses into my core, and I swear it feels like tiny fireworks begin going off just under my skin.