The Impossible Story of Olive In Love

by Tonya Alexandra

  ‘I just don’t understand why you would sabotage tonight. It’s like you don’t even care about me, let alone love me …’ The word lingers between us, hot and heavy and untouchable. We’ve never said it. I can hardly declare it now. ‘I thought you wanted us to work,’ he says finally.

  I crumple in my chair. Does he want to hear the truth? That I’m certain our relationship is doomed?

  ‘It’s who I am,’ I reply weakly.

  He leans his head back against the headrest and stares at the roof. ‘You’re awful to the people who love you the most?’ He turns to me. ‘Is that who you are?’

  His eyes search mine for the truth. What is the truth? I don’t know. Am I really that horrible? It doesn’t seem so at the time. But I don’t know how to explain that to him. He always has the cursed moral high ground.

  ‘I’m sorry, all right?’ I snap. ‘I told you, it was supposed to be fun.’

  ‘I have no idea how that could have been fun,’ he says flatly.

  ‘That’s because you don’t have to sit around watching other people have fun. You actually get to have the fun. You are not invisible.’

  ‘OKAY!’ he shouts back. ‘You’re invisible! Get over it. It doesn’t give you permission to be a god-damn bitch!’

  I hate that word. I need to escape. I get out of the car and slam the door shut.

  Tom doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t even look at me. He drives away, his wheels screech in fury.

  Come back, I think. I love you. But he doesn’t.

  I run away. Then cry.

  CHAPTER

  26

  Rose is in bed reading; the yellow light of her lamp bounces off her hair, her face is dark in shadow. She looks up. Her eyes are as blue as Tom’s. It startles me. When was the last time I really looked at her? She hears the intake of my breath.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘Your eyes, they’re … amazing.’

  Her lips go tight. ‘Flattery is not going to fix this Olive.’

  ‘I know.’ I sit down on the end of her bed and finger her quilt. It’s pinstriped, navy and white, in that ‘my home is fresh and ordered’ style. We are so different. ‘I really am sorry, Rose.’

  ‘Sure.’ She looks down at her book again.

  ‘I just had a fight with Tom,’ I say.

  ‘I’m not surprised.’

  ‘He thinks I’m a selfish bitch.’

  Rose looks up. She’s battling with what I’ve said; the big sister in her doesn’t like him talking to me that way, but most of her agrees with him.

  ‘It’s okay. I kind of asked for it,’ I tell her.

  She sighs and closes her book. ‘You did.’

  I take this as an invitation to let loose. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I keep stuffing it up. How hard can it be to act like a normal person for a few weeks?’

  ‘You’re not that bad,’ Rose says, blowing through her lips.

  ‘I am!’ I flop down on the bed, my head cradled in my palm. ‘The other day, I called him a moron when he didn’t know what the role of mitochondria was in cellular respiration. He was pretty upset.’

  Rose pinches her nose, squeezes her eyes shut. ‘I don’t know what to tell you Olive. It is amazing he puts up with you.’

  Did she really need to say that?

  But then she heaves a heavy sigh. ‘Look Olive, you’ve never been normal. You can’t suddenly transform into someone else.’

  ‘But I can’t keep being me, I’m awful! I can’t believe what I did tonight.’

  ‘It was bad and I don’t blame Tom for being angry—I am.’ Her face looks determined. ‘I’m never pretending to be you again. I doubt I’ll do Wynona again either.’

  I drop my face into my palms. ‘Oh god.’

  ‘Look,’ Rose says. ‘You are getting better. Just the fact that you understand tonight was bad is a huge step for you. Remember Mrs Kotek?’

  I cover my mouth to stop the laughter escaping. Mrs Kotek was Jordan’s babysitter. I wrote Mrs K stinks on her wall when she was minding Jordan one day. Jordan got into huge trouble for it.

  ‘That woman was way too sensitive,’ I say. ‘Besides, she did stink! It was a public service. You notice she wore perfume after that?’

  Rose shakes her head. ‘See? You’re still not admitting you were wrong. Back then you were even worse.’

  ‘I was a problem child. I know.’

  ‘But you’re getting better,’ Rose insists. ‘I think Tom is good for you.’

  I roll over so that I’m staring at her fan. ‘I’m not sure Tom and I are as good in real life as we are in my imagination,’ I say. ‘I don’t know how to be in love.’

  Rose doesn’t respond. She probably agrees with my statement and is too kind to say so.

  ‘Do you think he’ll dump me?’

  ‘I think maybe, he’s your true love.’

  And I’m pushing him away. Typical.

  ‘Too bad he won’t be around long,’ I mutter.

  ‘You’re going to tell him?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I swallow, this is getting so real. ‘You saw how much he loves his family—do you really think he would risk never seeing them again?’ My voice has gone squeaky, it’s lost any volume. I sound as desolate as I am.

  ‘The poor guy,’ says Rose. ‘It’s an impossible choice for him.’

  Her words startle me. I’d been so caught up agonising over my inevitable loss of Tom that I’d never considered how it would feel to make that choice. But either way, Tom will lose someone. Either way, he will let someone down. And I know how much Tom hates disappointing people.

  ‘How can I even ask him to make that choice?’ I say.

  Rose smiles at me like she’s proud. ‘See, you do know how to love.’

  It’s kind of embarrassing, but she’s right. I get the tiniest glimpse of what it means, but as soon as I start to analyse it, it slips away.

  ‘How do you know all this stuff, Rose?’ I flip her book over to see the cover. Another murder mystery. ‘It’s not from your reading,’ I joke. ‘And it comes so easily to you.’

  Rose tips her head back and stares at the ceiling. Then she bites her lip as if to stop herself from crying. It’s so rare to see Rose vulnerable like this. It scares me. I release the book. ‘Rose? Are you okay?’

  She takes a ragged breath. ‘You think it’s always been easy for me, don’t you?’

  ‘No,’ I say, but I kind of do.

  ‘Do you know Dad couldn’t see me? From when you were about six months old. Do you remember that? He stopped being able to see anyone … that included me.’

  I didn’t know. How hadn’t I thought of that? ‘Rose. I’m sorry. I didn’t realise …’

  ‘You were only small.’ She gives me an out I don’t deserve. Always my protector. ‘Everything was fine by the time we moved out here.’

  ‘But I should have realised.’

  She looks my way, her eyes are glassy. ‘It would have been nice.’

  The ‘selfish’ knot in my stomach tautens. ‘I’m sorry. It must have been awful.’

  Rose reaches for my hand. I take it. ‘It’s why I do understand, Olive. More than you think. It broke my heart—my daddy looking straight through me like I didn’t exist.’

  I feel my own tears on my cheeks. She does understand.

  ‘I just need you to know how proud I am of you, for being so strong when it would be so easy to slip off into the world and disappear.’ She shuts her eyes. ‘It’s what I wanted to do. I felt so small, so worthless.’ Every word of hers is tugging at my heart. I feel her pain. It’s mine too. I sniff and her eyes snap open.

  ‘But I was lucky. I had Ma and Nan who could see me. You didn’t have anyone until Tom.’

  ‘But I never knew any different.’

  Her grip tightens on my hand. ‘I want you to keep fighting, okay? Be fierce. Don’t try to be “normal”. That’s impossible. Words are all you’ve got to be noticed.’

  I laugh through my tears. ‘Keep
being a cíoch?’

  ‘If you have to. Just don’t lose yourself.’ She shakes my wrist. ‘And don’t give up on Tom. He’s good for you, but you know, you’re good for him too.’

  ‘Sure.’ I roll my eyes.

  ‘He’s stronger than you think. You might just pull it off.’ She pauses. ‘Besides, he’s a pretty good kisser.’

  ‘Rose!’ I gasp. ‘I thought you said he “used” you!’

  ‘There are worse ways to be used.’ She gives me a cheeky smile. ‘Now make me a cup of tea. You owe me.’

  I groan as I roll to get up off her bed. ‘You’re going to make me pay for this forever aren’t you?’

  ‘And ever,’ she says, still smiling.

  I grumble as I go into the kitchen, but the truth is I’m happy to do it. Even if I didn’t owe her. I think about what Tom said, about her and Malcolm. He’s right, I do need to figure out a way to help them. Rose deserves it. Even if she only thinks he’s ‘pretty’ good at kissing.

  I message Tom when I get to my room.

  Olive:

  Forgive me. You’re too hot for me to lose. I want your body.

  Tom:

  You’re coming across kind of desperate

  Olive:

  I am. Just call me the queen of the depraved, the debauched, the downtown dirty.

  Tom:

  Are you apologising or trying to get in my pants?

  Olive:

  Both.

  I wait. The minutes roll by thick as soup through a strainer. Finally he responds.

  Tom:

  You know I’ll never be clever enough for you. I’m a second-hand gag kinda guy

  Olive:

  That’s what I’m here for. Besides I’ll never be sweet enough for you.

  Tom:

  You’ve got enough sugar for me

  Olive:

  And you said you had no gags!

  Should I? Should I? A full three minutes later. Oh, what the hell …

  Olive:

  I love you.

  I press send and wait. Cac. It’s too much. I need to water it down.

  Olive:

  But then again I’d say anything to fondle your Adonis-like physique.

  There’s no reply. I wait a minute then type:

  Olive:

  And comb my fingers through your sumptuous hair.

  No reply.

  Olive:

  Tickle your epiglottis with my tongue.

  Cac! Still no reply. I can’t believe it!

  Olive:

  Maybe I’ll just wrap my hands around your neck and squeeze.

  Olive:

  You’re ignoring me? Seriously?

  I’m turning into Tamara! At least he had the decency to reply to her.

  Olive:

  I get the message. You don’t have to tell me—or in this case not tell me at all—twice. Good bye.

  Olive:

  You’re a deplorable rat fink.

  Oh god. Kill me now.

  Twenty minutes later my phone beeps.

  Tom:

  Sorry. I’m at the hospital. I had to drive Sarah and Racer here, he’s got asthma

  Hell. How many times can I screw up in one night?

  Olive:

  Is he ok?

  Tom:

  Yeah he will be

  I glance up at the conversation history. It’s A Grade humiliation.

  Olive:

  Can we just leave this conversation at ‘you’ve got enough sugar for me’?

  Tom:

  No way

  Tom:

  I’m coming over tomorrow. Be there.

  Olive:

  Oooh! Buckle up.

  Tom:

  You always have to have the last line don’t you?

  I grit my teeth and put my phone down. It’s going to be a long night.

  CHAPTER

  27

  I leap on Tom the moment he opens the door. ‘God, it was so hard not answering your message last night. I so wanted to write back “no” but it totally would have proven your point.’ I punch him in the shoulder. ‘So anyway—I win.’

  ‘You’ve been desperate to get that out haven’t you?’ He grabs me and kisses me really hard. I stagger back when he stops. ‘And I’ve been desperate to do that.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘Do you ever get tired of being the good guy?’

  ‘I’m not the good guy, I’m just happy,’ he gloats. ‘You love me.’

  ‘What?’ I say. I can’t believe he’s just declared it so openly.

  He taps his backside where he keeps his phone. ‘I’ve got it in writing.’

  ‘I believe I also called you a rat fink.’

  ‘A rat fink you love!’ Someone’s used a butter knife to spread way too much smile on this guy’s face.

  I can’t think of anything to say, so my throat makes a weird noise of irritation. He’s being awfully gleeful.

  ‘You’re not supposed to act this way you know,’ I say, walking over to the kitchen. ‘You’re supposed to be all worried that I said it too soon. That I must be a basket case.’

  ‘We already know that.’

  ‘Ha!’ I toss my head. ‘You’re supposed to be all paranoid because you can’t reciprocate. Spend all night tossing and turning wondering what to do about it. You’re just being plain smug,’ I snort. ‘Cruel really. Do you think you can rub my nose in it any more?’

  Tom catches my hips and presses me against the kitchen cupboards. ‘You love me, you love me, you love me.’ I growl at him.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he says, laughing. ‘I’ve brought my Adonis-like physique for you to fondle.’

  Those texts certainly backfired. I’ve got him back, yes, but cocky as a, I don’t know, a really annoying rooster who knows he owns every hen in the henhouse kind of rooster.

  ‘You’ve missed the boat Adonis.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘There’s only one way to back out of this.’

  ‘Which is?’ he asks, still looking way too pleased with himself.

  ‘Declaring your own pious love for me.’

  For some reason that makes him even happier. ‘Oh baby, you already know I …’

  ‘Shut up.’ I shove my hand over his mouth. ‘You’ve totally ruined it.’ He is grinning underneath my hand. ‘You can’t tell me that you love me, for the very first time, directly after I’ve told you that you must.’

  He pulls my hand away. ‘Too bad—I love you,’ he says with triumph.

  I bang the kettle on, snarling. ‘Just you wait. I’ll get my revenge.’

  He scoops me up into his arms. ‘Not enough romance?’

  ‘Put me the hell down.’

  He ignores me, walks me to my bedroom and throws me on the bed. He takes off his shirt. ‘What is this, a freaking Mills and Boon?’ I complain, without a lot of conviction, I have to admit.

  He swaggers toward me. ‘I’ve got something for you.’

  ‘You sound like Captain Cheeseball,’ I say, and then I see his skin. ‘What have you done?’ There is writing all over his torso. It skims down his belly, wraps around his side, even rolls its way around his biceps. ‘It can’t be a tattoo.’

  ‘It’s just pen. First Love by John Clare,’ Tom tells me. ‘He says it all, I think.’

  ‘So it seems,’ I say.

  Tom lies down, points to his bellybutton. ‘Start here.’ He’s written it upside down, the first verse is scrawled up his torso almost to his throat.

  I ne’er was struck before that hour

  With love so sudden and so sweet,

  Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower

  And stole my heart away complete.

  I follow the verses as they wrap around Tom’s body, reading with my fingers pressed to his skin.

  ‘Oh you’re good,’ I say when I’m done. I’m all aflush. How can I possibly tell him the truth about the curse and risk missing out on this? The boy is one in a zillion.

  I’ll never tell him, I realise, feeling a sudden pan
g of guilt.

  Tom folds his hands behind his head so his arms flex. ‘I am good.’

  ‘And this is why you’ve been so cocky,’ I say. ‘You’ve been hiding this under your shirt.’

  His eyes twinkle. ‘You like?’

  ‘I can’t even begin to tell you.’

  He smiles like the enormous crocodile. ‘Then skip the words.’

  ‘You’re going to give me ink poisoning,’ I complain.

  CHAPTER

  28

  Tom and I are in the mountains sitting in a café, in a small, cold, misty town.

  I like it up here. The air is brisk, my senses are sharper. I feel like a different person. It’s strange how a location can change you. Must travel more, I decide. Broaden my horizons, as they say.

  Tom has convinced me to try the eating out thing and I think we’re getting away with it. This place is empty apart from one waitress more interested in her phone than in her lone customer. The music is loud enough to disguise my voice, and best of all, the café has booth seating. Chairs are problematic for me, so when I saw the semi-circular booths I agreed to try eating here. Of course I order nothing but Tom sneaks me bites of his burger and I steal his fries.

  ‘You like it here?’ Tom asks me. He is talking with his mouth full and I can see way too much churning going on in there but I let it slide.

  ‘What’s not to like? Good food, good vibes, good guy …’ I play with the tuft of hair at his temple.

  ‘I’m glad you like,’ he says, taking another bite. ‘It was Mum’s suggestion.’

  ‘Your mum suggested it?’ Kind of kills the romance. ‘Why?’

  Tom shrugs. ‘Change of scenery. Chance to talk.’

  I’m immediately suspicious. ‘Talk about what?’ And then I know. Our issues.

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve been talking to your mum about us!’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I? She’s great with this stuff.’

  ‘What sort of stuff, exactly?’ I narrow my eyes at him.