“Whatever,” he said quietly. “I went by myself. I shot some great stuff. Maybe you can take a look sometime, if your schedule ever frees up…”
Olivia felt her breath catching, and she wanted to say more, to apologize until she was out of ways of saying sorry, when over the top of Miles’s shoulder she saw Calla.
“Miles,” she said, putting a hand on the back of his bony elbow, “I’m really sorry, but I have to go. I’ll call you later and we’ll work on the project this week, I promise. Okay?”
She’d liked to have thought that she’d waited for Miles’s answer, or at least looked him squarely in the eyes, but she didn’t. Even before the last words were out of her mouth, she was pushing past him and edging her way through the lobby, arriving at the rounded corner of the desk just as Calla was turning around.
“Calla,” Olivia said. “I’m so glad I found you. I really need to—” Olivia stopped suddenly and held her breath. Was Calla…crying?
“Olivia,” Calla managed, before her features crumpled, her lower lip pouting, the tears welling at the corner of her eyes. She shook her head, her dark hair tumbling around her face like a curtain. Then she spun on her heels, running back down the hallway without another word.
Olivia stood frozen by the desk and looked up at Bess, who was staring back down at her, her silver-studded eyebrows knitting with concern.
“Maybe you should go check on her.” Bess shrugged and gestured toward the girls’ bathroom, just around the corner.
Olivia nodded, dumbstruck, and let her heavy feet carry her down the crowded hall. “Calla?” she called out quietly, after pushing through the bathroom door and ducking her head to search for feet under the stalls. The bathroom was small, with only one regular stall and one handicapped one, and a long row of windows by a standing sink and mirror.
“Over here.” Calla sniffed, standing over the sink as tears dripped down her face.
“What’s wrong?” Olivia asked, her voice small and timid. She already knows. Eve must’ve found out. She’s crying and miserable and it’s all my fault.
Calla ran the water and held her palms underneath it, cupping her hands together and leaning down to splash her face. Olivia glanced up at her reflection in the fingerprinted glass. Despite Lark’s constant reminders to reapply her SPF, Olivia had gotten too much sun at the beach on Saturday, and a fresh batch of freckles had cropped up, forming a crowded constellation on her nose and forehead.
Olivia held her breath until Calla turned the faucet off and leaned back against the brick wall beneath the window.
“Everything is wrong,” she said slowly. “When I got back from the beach last night, my dad was packing his things. He’s moving out.”
As Calla was talking, Olivia felt her lungs slowly filling back up with air, her heartbeat settling into something that resembled normal human function. As awful as it was, Olivia couldn’t help but feel relieved that Calla’s tears had nothing to do with her.
“This time it’s for good—I can feel it.” Calla hiccuped, her eyes filling up again. “He already left for the office in Greece. I bet he won’t even come back.”
Olivia took a step closer to the sink and rested her hand on Calla’s shoulder, which was rolling up and down with gentle little sobs.
“And he definitely won’t be back in time for the fashion show,” Calla huffed. “Not that it matters. There’s still so much to do, and I’m such a mess…”
Olivia stretched her arm long around Calla’s shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. Calla’s body was shaking with little short-circuit quivers. How could she possibly tell Calla about Soren now?
“It’s going to be okay,” Olivia said quietly. “We have a whole week to make the fashion show happen. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
Calla looked up, her big doe eyes hopeful and warm, and nodded.
“Everybody’s going to be talking about it,” Olivia said with a smile. What Calla needed now was help. And after everything Olivia had done, she could at least give her that. “Your dad will be devastated once he realizes that he missed out on the social event of the century.”
Calla leaned her head on Olivia’s shoulder. She caught a glimpse of their reflection as Calla tried on a brave smile.
“You’re right.” Calla wiped the last wet tears from her cheeks. “You’re totally right. We need to focus on the really important stuff.” She met Olivia’s eyes in the mirror. “Like what we’re going to wear.”
34
“Mommy’s home!”
It was Friday afternoon and Olivia was kneeling on the Anthropologie circle rug in the middle of her room, elbow-deep in one of Violet’s boxes, searching for the pair of gold wedge sandals she’d been hoping to wear to the event that night. She turned quickly to see her sister suddenly at the window, her arms held wide and a silly grin stretched from ear to ear.
Olivia hopped up and ran to the window, wrapping her arms around her sister’s neck and burying her face in Violet’s tangled, salty hair. “You’re back!” Olivia breathed. “How was it?”
Violet flopped back on the bed, her long, freckled limbs spread out like those of a starfish.
“It was incredible.” She sighed. “We went all the way down to these little islands off the coast of LA. There were sea lions everywhere—which, it turns out, are not all that cuddly.”
“Really?” Olivia asked, trying to muster up all the enthusiasm she could find. It had been a long, exhausting week of getting ready for the fashion show with Calla—collecting thrift-store donations, coordinating models and outfits, making sure the food and the drinks and the venue were all squared away—and Olivia had only that afternoon remembered to pick up a dress from Posey. To top it all off, she hadn’t been sleeping, and had been missing Soren like crazy and wondering when Violet would finally come home from her trip.
“Totally.” Violet nodded. “Like, don’t put your hands anywhere near them. They look cute, but they will eat you.”
Olivia managed a laugh, but it must not have been very convincing, because Violet sat up with a shock and slapped her knees with her hands. “Crap!” she exclaimed. “The fashion show! I forgot it was tonight. How was your week? How was the weekend at the beach? Tell me everything!”
Olivia smiled anxiously and opened her closet door, pulling out the hanging garment bag she’d picked up from Posey that afternoon. She hadn’t opened it yet.
“The weekend was fun,” she said, hooking the hanger over the top of the closet door and slowly pulling down the zipper. Without really paying much attention, she gathered open a hole in the soft, cool fabric and stepped her bare feet inside. “Soren was there. Things were really weird with Calla, so I decided to tell him that we should stop hanging out. But then he took me on this amazing midnight hike, and I just couldn’t, so…I tried to tell Calla everything in school on Monday, but that was a bust, too…”
Olivia wrangled her arms through the straps and heard Violet draw a sharp breath. “What?” she asked, quickly running her hands down the smooth fabric at her hip. “Is it bad?”
Violet jumped from the bed and spun Olivia around so that she was facing herself in the mirror.
Posey had done it again. This time, the dress was long and forest green, falling past her ankles and gathering in a shallow pool around her feet. The rich silk chiffon perfectly complimented the pink undertones of Olivia’s skin, the light smattering of peachy freckles at her collarbone, her long, strawberry curls. The sleeves fell just to the outside curves of her shoulders, the easy, rolling scoop of the neckline meeting low in both the front and back, with little pockets of material ruffled and slimming her already narrow waist.
It was red-carpet material, and, again, Olivia felt like she’d stepped into a movie.
“You look like a princess,” Violet said, shaking her head with a smile. “A princess with a wish to make…”
Violet smiled coyly and hopped back up on the bed, as Olivia sat down in a chair in front of the white, mirrored vanity.
/>
“So…” Violet asked. “Any ideas? And don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, because you had a whole week without me here to distract you, and you must have come up with—”
“I’ve thought about it,” Olivia said quietly, opening the black-and-white Sephora cosmetic bag her mother had ordered for both girls two Christmases ago. She’d hardly ever used any of the pre-selected products inside, but she thought she remembered seeing a pale pink eye shadow that would be a perfect complement to the deep green of her dress.
Violet pulled one leg up on the bed and shook her knee up and down. “You sneak. Tell me! What are you going to wish for?”
Olivia took a deep breath, dipping a tiny brush into the powder and drawing it across the smooth crease of her upper lid.
“Well, I was thinking,” she said, fluttering one eyelid and examining her progress in the glass. “Everything’s going so well, you know? I have you back, and I have Soren, and Calla and I are getting to be real friends…and I realized that the only thing left, the one other thing that would make me really, truly happy…was if Calla could be happy, too.”
Violet was still and silent for such a long time that Olivia eventually turned around.
“What?” Olivia asked. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”
Violet cupped her knees in her hands and turned to face her sister, her blue eyes still and serious.
“Is this really how you want to use your last wish?” she asked.
Olivia sighed. She’d known Violet wasn’t going to be on board with this one. Maybe she shouldn’t have even told her.
“I don’t know, Violet. It’s the only thing I can—” Olivia suddenly paused, her hands falling down to the top of the bureau. “Wait, what do you mean? It’s not my last wish. I have two left.”
Violet stood from the bed and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain and peering outside. Dull yellow lights in the purple-painted town house across the street were just starting to switch on as the sky faded deeper and deeper blue overhead.
“Violet?” Olivia asked. “What’s going on?”
Violet took a deep breath, the bony wings of her shoulder blades lifting and then settling down her back. “I have to tell you something,” she said, turning around. Her eyes were jumpy and her fingers twitched at her sides.
Olivia turned from the mirror to face her sister. “What is it?” she said flatly. “Violet. You’re scaring me.”
“I really did want to tell you sooner,” Violet said, pressing her hands against the glass. “But you were having so much fun. You were really living, for once, and I didn’t want you to think that—”
“Violet…” Olivia closed her eyes and took a long, full breath. “Whatever it is you are trying to say, could you please just say it?”
Violet turned around to face Olivia, her eyes serious and sad. “I tricked you,” she said. “At the gala. I tricked you into wishing for Soren.”
Olivia stared at her sister, her face frozen and blank. “You did not. I never made a wish. I couldn’t think of anything, remember? So I just didn’t—”
“I wish you were right,” Violet said quickly, cringing as soon as the hurried words escaped her lips.
“Right?” Olivia repeated. What was Violet talking about? “Right about what?”
Violet kneeled on the floor in front of Olivia, taking her sister’s hands in her lap. “That’s what you said,” Violet started to explain. “After I got you to admit that it would be fun to be with Soren, and that it could happen, if you wanted it badly enough. You said, ‘I wish you were right.’”
Flashes of hot and cold were rippling in waves beneath Olivia’s skin, and she kept her eyes trained on the floor. It was the same trick she used in public; if she directed all of her attention at something specific, something real, maybe she could get a little perspective.
No, there is not a ghost beside me. No, this is not my dead sister, telling me that the best thing that’s ever happened to me only happened because of a wish.
“That’s ridiculous,” Olivia said finally. “Even if I did…say that. It’s not a real wish. I was just…talking. It doesn’t make sense.”
Violet squeezed Olivia’s hands. “It makes perfect sense,” she said. “You don’t think it’s a little bit of a coincidence that Soren and Calla broke up that very night? Or that you had that perfect romantic afternoon with him the very next day?”
Olivia took a deep breath and shook her head, freeing her hands from Violet’s grip and pushing herself to her feet.
“Think about it,” Violet pleaded. “It makes sense. I wish it didn’t, but it does.”
Olivia just shook her head again, searching the top of the vanity for the gold clutch she’d borrowed from Calla. She picked it up, tucked it under her arm, and walked toward the door.
“Think about what you’re doing!” Violet called after her sister as Olivia opened the door to the hall.
Olivia stood like a statue in the hallway. Her head was pounding; her heart hurt. “I have to go,” she said, and closed the door behind her.
“Olivia, wait!” Violet called out from the other side of the door.
But Olivia was already at the landing, hurrying down the stairs and out into the night.
35
“There you are!”
Calla ran across the wide, dewy lawn of the Palace of Fine Arts. She looked stunning in one of the many designer gowns her mother had donated, a vintage Chanel cocktail dress, black with lace details and a low, scalloped neck.
“We’re in the middle of a total meltdown.” She sighed, catching up to Olivia by the reflecting pool. “Half of the evening-wear pieces Lark’s mother donated are way too big for any of the models—I guess they’re from her maternity collection or something. Who knew?”
Olivia tried to smile and picked up her pace down the cobblestone path. She had been lingering by the side of a long, narrow reflecting pool, and knew she was running late, but her conversation with Violet had made hustling a bit of a challenge. It was all she could do to keep from collapsing, or screaming, or at the very least sitting quietly alone in a corner, until she’d figured this whole Soren-wish thing out.
She’d spent the whole cab ride going over every minute they’d spent together, searching for some sign that what Violet had said couldn’t possibly be true. Soren’s feelings for her had been real. But the longer she thought about it, the more the coincidences were starting to add up. Everything had happened so fast, and she remembered how she’d felt at the beginning, that it all seemed too good to be true. Had it been?
“Earth to Olivia…” Calla groaned.
Olivia looked up and for the first time saw the openair rotunda in the middle of the Palace greens, lit up like a Christmas tree with hundreds of twinkling white lights. Jutting out from its center was the long red runway Calla and Olivia had helped to assemble themselves. It was the first time she’d seen the whole thing put together, and at night. It was breathtaking.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, staring wide-eyed at the cluster of round tables with matching gray satin cloths, dotted with bouquets of tall white lilies.
“Did you see the flowers?” Calla asked, beaming. “They’re calla lilies. My dad had them delivered. I guess he isn’t a total ass.”
Calla smiled and took Olivia’s elbow as they walked toward the pointed white tent, a raw-bar buffet set up on one side, a makeshift changing room curtained off on the other.
“So, I was thinking,” Calla said, while Olivia scanned the gathering crowd mingling inside the ornate sculpture garden. “We could either use some of the men’s ties we have, and loop them around as belts, or…”
As Calla continued to troubleshoot wardrobe malfunctions, Olivia’s mind drifted back to the night at the Academy of Sciences. She remembered how cute and awkward Soren had looked in his suit. She remembered Violet teasing her, and then acting suddenly, weirdly upset. She even remembered, now, vaguely, saying the words I wish…
&n
bsp; Olivia took a sharp breath, glancing away from Calla and back toward the lawn. As if she’d dreamed it, Soren was there, stepping out of a cab and walking toward the stone path. He looked even better than he had that first night, in a crisp white button-down shirt, dark denim jeans, and bright white sneakers.
Olivia’s heart stung. Wasn’t there a chance, however small, that it hadn’t been a wish? That Soren really had fallen for her on his own?
There was only one way to find out.
“Calla,” Olivia said suddenly, stopping short. She needed to talk to Soren. She needed to know if his feelings were real.
“I’m so sorry,” Olivia said, shaking her head with bewildered regret. “I—I forgot my phone in the cab, and…”
Olivia stalled and Calla turned around from a few steps ahead, looking back with careful, worried eyes.
“Oh,” Calla said lightly. “You could just call it from mine; it’s in my bag over—”
“No,” Olivia insisted. “I think if I run, I can catch him. I’ll meet you backstage in a minute. I promise.”
“Hurry!” Calla yelled as Olivia broke into an awkward little jog across the lawn. “We’re up first, remember? The welcome speech?”
Olivia waved to Calla, stopping to step out of her gold leather sandals and holding them out between her fingers as she ran. All she needed was a minute. She’d meet Calla onstage with plenty of time to spare.
She caught up to Soren at the long round table set up at the edge of the driveway, glancing over a display of name tags and searching for his own.
“Hey,” she said, tapping his elbow and catching her breath.
Soren spun around, his crooked smile glowing as soon as he realized it was her.
“Hey!” he said. “You look…”
Little patches of red appeared on his cheeks and Olivia tried not to think about how good he looked, dashing and comfortable at the same time. Before she could help it, Olivia felt her insides turn to mush.
“Olivia, these are my parents.” Soren gestured to a cheerful couple standing at the table. He had been right; with almost the identical shade of light brown hair tinted with the same amount of gray, and the same tanned, smooth skin and familiar green eyes, they looked more like siblings than husband and wife.
Wish Page 21