by Jordan Lynde
The worst thing about going to the grocery store with Elliot, was that he wanted everything. And when I say everything, I really mean everything.
‘Pig, can we get this?’
I glanced down to see him holding up a can of potatoes. ‘Elliot, we have regular potatoes.’
‘Can we get this?’ he asked, now holding up a can of cat food.
‘We don’t have a cat . . .’
He pointed to a large box sitting on the bottom shelf of the aisle; it had cats pictured on it. ‘Can we get this?’
‘If we don’t have a cat, why would we need cat litter?’
‘In case Will has an accident,’ Elliot responded, making me laugh.
‘No, it’s OK. If you stop asking for everything, I’ll let you get a candy. Let me just get dinner, and then when we are leaving we’ll stop by the candy aisle,’ I said to him, making my way to the meat section.
‘OK!’ Elliot responded, grabbing my hand. ‘Let’s go.’
Due to Elliot’s commands I ended up picking up hamburgers for dinner. I wasn’t complaining; they were easy to make. Elliot basically dragged me to the candy aisle.
‘Come on, Pig!’
‘Hold on,’ I said with a laugh. ‘The candy isn’t going anywh—’
I trailed off as a shock went through my body. Standing not even a meter away from me was Oliver. Crap! I wasn’t wearing my glasses and my hair was down and I was in casual clothing! Taking the lead, I ended up hauling Elliot toward the candy aisle even faster than before.
‘Choose quickly,’ I told him, looking over my shoulder cautiously.
Why was Oliver here? Well, that was a stupid question. Obviously he was getting groceries. But I couldn’t let him see Elliot and myself. Why hadn’t I worn my glasses? I already looked like a sixteen-year-old with them; I probably looked like I was twelve without them.
‘I want gummy bears,’ Elliot decided.
I quickly scanned the aisle and located the gummy bears, grabbing a small package and giving them to him. He shook his head. ‘Sour.’
‘OK,’ I responded, putting the gummy bears back and grabbing the sour package. ‘You’re good now?’
‘Yep!’
‘Then let’s go,’ I said, grabbing his hand and heading toward the checkout line quickly.
It was going to be OK. Oliver wasn’t going to see me. Well, even if he did see me, he probably wouldn’t acknowledge me, I thought wryly. I didn’t have anything to worry about.
Suddenly someone ran into my side with their carriage, making me drop my basket and slip. Elliot called out my name in surprise as I hit the dirty floor with a smack, dropping my purse. I winced, immediately pushing myself into a sitting position. ‘Ow . . .’
‘Sorry!’
As soon as the voice met my ears I froze. It was Oliver. My stomach dropped and I panicked for a moment. What was I supposed to do? Not raising my head, I pushed myself up, cleared my throat and tried to disguise my voice. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine,’ I said quickly.
‘Pig?’
‘I’m good, Eli.’
‘Sorry again,’ Oliver apologized, and I was tempted to look at him.
Why was he being so nice? I was expecting him to say something along the lines of ‘Watch where you’re going, idiot’. Taking Elliot’s hand again, I led him away from Oliver, keeping my hair in my face, my heart furiously beating in my chest. That was too close.
‘Hey! You dropped your driver’s license . . .’
My driver’s license? A shock went through me. That had my actual age and name on it! Crap! I turned around, keeping my head down, and went back to Oliver, holding out my hand expectantly. When I didn’t feel my license being put into it, I glanced up.
Oliver was looking at me in surprise. I instantly whipped my head back down, heart in my throat, but he grabbed my face and forced me to look up at him. My eyes widened and a smirk appeared on his face as he looked from me, to my driver’s license, and then back again.
‘Harley Allen . . . or should I say Ms Allen?’ Oliver commented, dangling my driver’s license in front of my face. ‘Care to explain why your driver’s license says you’re only seventeen?’
Chapter Eight
‘Do I know you?’ I asked, raising an eyebrow, keeping my panic under control. The best thing I could do was to pretend Oliver had mistaken me for someone else. Keeping my expression calm and confused, I pulled his hand away from my face and took a step back. Oliver rolled his eyes at me, pulling my license away as I tried to grab it from him.
‘I’m not stupid. I know it’s you.’
‘I don’t know what you mean . . .’
‘I’d recognize your babyface anywhere,’ Oliver commented dryly. ‘Even if you wear those glasses in class, it’s obvious you’re younger than you claim to be. Now I have proof.’
‘I-I don’t . . .’
‘Save it. I know it’s you, Ms Allen.’
I glared at the floor, my chest tight. Why, out of all of the students in my classes, did it have to be Oliver who found out? And so quickly! It was so unfair . . . I looked at him with a hard look. ‘You can’t tell anyone.’
‘Why not?’
‘I might lose my job!’ I told him, looking at him with pleading eyes. ‘Please, you can’t tell anyone!’
‘Why do I care whether you have a job or not?’ Oliver asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘I couldn’t really care less.’
‘Oliver, please!’
‘Care to explain why you’re lying about your age, then?’
‘I need the money.’
‘Why?’
I set my jaw, narrowing my eyes at him. ‘None of your business.’
Oliver looked surprised for a minute, but he quickly rearranged his features into a scowl. ‘Well, then it might just get around that you’re actually only seventeen . . .’
My hands shook from anger as I glared at Oliver. As soon as my life actually started to work out for me, he had to ruin it. Tears stung at my eyes, and I blinked furiously to keep them spilling. He had no right to threaten me. He had no right to know about my past! I didn’t want to tell him my parents were dead and that I had to care for Elliot and myself alone – that was for me to know about, and only me.
‘Fine,’ I finally said, my voice shaking. ‘Tell everyone. Let them all know my true age and get me fired. Is that what you want? I shouldn’t be so surprised since I’m pretty sure you hate me anyway.’
Oliver rolled his eyes. ‘Spare me the dramatics.’
I opened my mouth to shout at him, but before I could say anything, a new voice spoke up.
‘Leave Pig alone!’
Oliver’s eyes snapped down to Elliot, who was standing in front of me with his chest puffed out. Elliot stared at Oliver, clenching his little fist.
‘Who’s Pig?’ Oliver asked, looking at my brother curiously.
‘My sister!’
‘Her?’ Oliver pointed his finger at me.
‘Yes! Leave Pig alone!’
‘Eli, it’s fine,’ I told him quietly, putting a hand on his head. ‘I’m OK.’
‘No! Pig is not OK – Pig is crying!’
‘Elliot, it’s fine,’ I reassured him. ‘I’m not crying. We’re just having a small argument.’
‘Olive, go away!’ Elliot cried, pushing on Oliver’s leg. ‘Leave Pig!’
I almost laughed. Olive? Oliver looked down at Elliot with a blank expression for a moment, and then, to my surprise, he started laughing. He squatted down to Elliot’s level, putting a hand on his head. Elliot moved out from under it, still glaring at Oliver.
‘Does your sister cry easily?’ Oliver asked Elliot.
‘Yes! Leave Pig alone!’
‘Elliot,’ I said with a grimace. ‘I don’t—’
‘Do you know why she’s working at my school?’
I stared at Oliver with a deadpan look. Was he kidding? He was going to ask my little brother about
me? Elliot didn’t know anything!
‘She caught on fire at her last job,’ Elliot told Oliver, a very serious expression on his face.
I held in my laughter, and put a hand to my mouth to keep it from escaping as Oliver looked at me, his eyes wide. ‘Really?’
‘Really!’ Elliot insisted, pushing Oliver’s leg again. ‘Leave Pig alone!’
‘What does that have anything to do with needing money? Obviously it isn’t medical bills since you look fine to me,’ Oliver said, addressing me now.
‘I didn’t catch on fire,’ I told him with a sigh.
‘Yes, Pig did!’ Elliot cried, looking at me in surprise. ‘Pig, don’t lie!’
‘No, Elliot, I was fired. Not I caught on fire.’
Elliot stayed quiet, confusion on his face, and a small chuckle left my lips as I shook my head – I had tried to explain this to Elliot before. Oliver watched me for a few moments before turning back to my brother.
‘OK, Elliot, I’ll leave . . . Pig alone,’ he told my brother, mussing up his hair. ‘On one condition.’
‘Condition?’ I repeated, staring at him in disbelief. ‘A condition? What condition?’
‘You have to do me a favor if you want me to keep your secret,’ Oliver said simply.
I stared at him incredulously. Was he crazy? Why would I agree to something like that? I finally shook my head. ‘No . . .’
‘No?’
‘No! That’s unfair. I’m asking you to keep my secret because I desperately need you to. There shouldn’t be any conditions! You should just be a good person and keep my secret.’
‘I’m not a good person,’ Oliver told me, a short bark of laughter escaping his mouth.
‘Obviously,’ I retorted before I could stop myself. ‘You’re an insensitive jerk.’
‘Oh, that hurt,’ Oliver responded, putting a hand to his heart in mock pain.
I glared at him angrily again, clenching my fists. I really hated this guy. Why did he have to make my life so much harder? Why couldn’t he just keep his stupid, British mouth shut?
‘What kind of favor?’ I asked, defeated.
Oliver shrugged. ‘I’m not sure yet. Whatever I need you to do.’
I gritted my teeth. ‘Fine.’
‘Here, Pig,’ Oliver said, handing me my license. ‘From now on, I suggest being more careful when you go out in public. If someone else finds out, I doubt they’ll be as accommodating as me.’
‘Anyone would be more accommodating than you,’ I retorted. ‘And don’t call me Pig!’
‘Whatever. Does the faculty know your true age?’ Oliver questioned, cutting me off.
I hesitated for a moment, pursing my lips. ‘No one . . .’
Oliver nodded, shaking his hair out of his face. ‘That’s good.’
I gave him a flat look. ‘Oliver, I can’t help you get out of suspensions from other teachers, or detentions, or let you skip class. So if that’s what you’re thinking—’
‘I know that,’ Oliver interjected, rolling his eyes.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but I could tell this guy was going to give me a lot of stress. Why couldn’t it have been Arden, or Zak, who’d found out? Heck, I’d even settle for Tucker. I could promise Tucker I wouldn’t talk to him and that would be that.
‘Oliver?’
My head snapped up at the new voice to see a familiar blonde looking at me in surprise.
‘Ms Allen?’
Ice ran through my veins. ‘M-Melissa?’
‘Get this, Mel,’ Oliver said, turning to the blonde. ‘Our teacher is your age.’
‘Oliver!’ I cried, looking at him in horror. ‘You promised—’
‘Relax,’ he said, cutting me off. ‘Melissa’s my sister. She’d find out soon enough anyway.’
I stared at him for a minute, then to Melissa. They were siblings? They looked incredibly different. And if I remembered correctly, Melissa’s last name was Moore, and Oliver’s was Fox. And she didn’t have an accent. ‘You two are related?’
‘You’re seventeen?’ Melissa asked, ignoring my question. ‘I thought you just looked young!’
‘I’m sorry for lying to you.’ I really was. I couldn’t care less about lying to Oliver, but Melissa was a nice person – it was hard to believe they were related. ‘But I need you to do me a huge favor and not tell anyone. Please.’
‘I won’t,’ Melissa promised immediately, holding up her hand. ‘I promise. But . . . wow. How’d you even get hired?’
‘Uh, connections,’ I said. It was the partial truth. I had connections with Will, who had connections to the person who made all my fake credentials.
‘Pig,’ a new voice spoke up, thankfully keeping Melissa from asking anything else. ‘I’m hungry . . .’ Elliot tugged on my jacket, looking up at me. ‘Can we go home? Will is hungry too . . .’
‘Oh, crap! Will!’ I cried. I’d forgotten I was coming here to get dinner so we could all eat.
‘Will?’ Oliver and Melissa chorused curiously.
‘I’ve got to go,’ I said, ignoring their questioning looks. ‘I’ll see you in class next week, Melissa. And I’d better see you, Oliver. Otherwise I’m telling the principal you’ve been skipping.’
Oliver rolled his eyes. ‘Are you really in a position to threaten me? I could easily tell your secret—’
Melissa jabbed her elbow into his side, making him jump and scowl at her, then she turned to me, sighing. ‘Ignore Oliver. We won’t tell.’
‘Thank you so much,’ I responded, sending her a grateful smile. ‘I owe you.’
‘Don’t worry about it!’
‘Pig!’
‘We’re going,’ I told Elliot, grabbing his hand. ‘C’mon.’
‘See you on Monday, Pig.’
I threw a scowl at Oliver from over my shoulder and he smirked at me, then waved once. A sigh escaped my lips and I shook my head at Elliot. ‘You really need to stop calling me Pig.’
‘Pig is Pig.’
‘Do you even know my name?’
Elliot stayed silent, his mouth pressed in a straight line. I raised an eyebrow at him, stopping in one of the checkout lines. After a few moments Elliot started grinning at me. ‘Pig,’ he stated.
I laughed, mussing with his hair. ‘No. Harley, remember?’
‘Pig,’ Elliot said stubbornly.
Shaking my head, I began to pile the groceries onto the belt – Elliot was a hopeless case. I paid for the groceries, and Elliot grabbed the bag. Together, we made our way out to my car, and I tossed the groceries in the back. Rain splashed in my face and I wiped it away brusquely. I hated the rain.
When we made it back to Will’s apartment, I burst in quickly. ‘Will, I’m so—’ I broke off when I saw Will was lying face down, motionless, on the floor. ‘Will?’
‘Harley,’ he moaned weakly.
Immediately I was at his side. ‘Will? What’s wrong? Are you OK?’
He turned his head so he could look at me. ‘I’m . . .’
‘You’re?’
‘So hungry,’ he said, shutting his eyes. ‘It hurts.’
Without warning, I dropped to my knees, landing on his back. He cried out in pain, immediately rolling over, and making me fall off him. He moved out from under me, putting a hand to his back. ‘No pity for the old?’
‘You’re not old, you’re only twenty-seven,’ I said mockingly, pushing myself off the ground. ‘Don’t play those kind of jokes! You scared me.’
Will’s expression softened. ‘I’m sorry, Harley.’
I shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘But you did take a long time at the grocery store.’
‘Well . . . it’s a long story.’
Will smiled slightly. ‘Well, you can tell me . . . while starting dinner.’
‘I’m hungry!’ Elliot complained, yanking on my jacket. ‘Food!’
‘I’m going, I’m going,’ I said, rolling my eyes.
Will followed me to the kitchen, where
I quickly unpacked the groceries and got out a pan for the hamburgers. Will made a face.
‘Hamburgers?’
‘Elliot’s choice.’
‘Should have guessed,’ Will responded with a sigh. ‘So tell me what happened at the grocery store.’
With a small sigh, I began telling him about Oliver. Will’s face hardened, and by the time I was done, he looked extremely indignant. The hamburgers were beginning to sizzle, so I quickly flipped them over.
‘An eighteen-year-old is taking advantage of you!’ Will told me, disbelief in his voice.
‘It’s my fault for dropping my license . . .’
‘That was an accident! Where can I find this guy? I think I should knock some sense into him.’
I laughed, shaking my head at Will. ‘Thanks for the concern, but the only thing I’m worried about is him telling someone. I’m sure I can handle whatever he needs me to do.’
‘But, Harley—’
‘It’s fine,’ I assured him.
Will sighed, rubbing his forehead. ‘Doesn’t he know how hard you have it already?’ Will demanded, scowling again. ‘If I ever see that thick-skinned guy . . .’
‘He doesn’t know.’
‘What? Why not?’
‘Um, I just don’t want to tell anyone,’ I said quietly, focusing solely on the hamburgers now. ‘I just . . .’
I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up to see Will smiling gently at me. ‘Say no more. I understand.’
I swallowed, nodding my head. ‘I’m just not ready . . . to, you know . . . say it. If I tell someone, it just makes it more real.’
‘Harley . . .’
‘Don’t misunderstand me,’ I told Will, chewing my lip. ‘I know they’re gone, and they aren’t coming back, but saying that out loud to other people is—’
Will silenced me with a hand to my mouth. ‘Harley, trust me, I understand. There’s no need to explain – I understand how losing your parents must still feel very raw.’ He removed his hand and watched me for a minute.
‘Yeah,’ I responded, looking away from him, my throat suddenly constricting. I took a few deep breaths, trying to shake my thoughts away. ‘Do . . . do you want cheese on your burger?’
Will laughed. ‘Yes please.’
I relaxed, glad the atmosphere had become cheerful again. The last thing I needed was for Will to give me one of his pep talks. Writers and pep talks didn’t mix – Will just ended up making me more confused and stressed than before since he liked to be dramatic. He did more damage than help usually, but I didn’t let him know that; I appreciated the fact that at least he tried.