by Jordan Lynde
Arden look relieved. ‘OK. Tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow’s Saturday,’ Oliver reminded him in a hard voice.
‘So?’
‘Sunday,’ I told Arden, ignoring Oliver. ‘I . . . I want to believe you.’
Arden nodded, frowning again. ‘I promise I’m not lying.’
‘I hope so,’ I murmured, dropping my gaze.
Arden let go of my arm, and Oliver began dragging me away. I glanced at Arden one last time. He gave me a half-smile.
The lump in my throat came back as Oliver led me toward the parking lot. Now Arden, and probably Oliver, knew my parents were dead – I couldn’t deny the fact any more. Now it was real. My parents were gone. They weren’t coming back. No matter how much I wanted to deny it, it was real. No more pretend. Tears filled my vision again, and I solely relied on Oliver to tow me in the right direction as I desperately tried to hold back sobs.
‘Hey.’
I kept my head down, trying to blink away my tears again. ‘What?’ I asked, sounding hoarse.
‘What you told Arden . . . was it true?’
I swallowed hard. ‘Yeah.’
‘Why didn’t you say anything before?’ Oliver demanded, sounding annoyed.
‘I . . . I don’t know,’ I responded honestly, biting my lip. ‘I guess I didn’t want to tell anyone. Now that I have, the fact my parents are gone is—’
‘I understand,’ Oliver cut me off. ‘It took me a while to tell any of my friends about my mom too. It’s a little something called denial.’
I frowned slightly. ‘I’m not in denial . . .’
‘You might not be in denial about their death, but you could be in denial about facing it,’ Oliver enlightened me. ‘Crying won’t solve anything, so stop. Your parents wouldn’t want you crying over them, right?’
I stayed silent, staring at the pavement in the parking lot. Oliver had a point. They probably wouldn’t want me to cry. Especially since it had almost been a year since they died . . .
‘But’ – Oliver cleared his throat, clearly looking uncomfortable – ‘it’s tough. So if you want to cry, I’ll give you my shoulder.’
Now I looked at Oliver, my eyes widening in shock. Was he serious? Oliver was going to lend me his shoulder? Who was this Oliver, and what did he do with the old one?
He caught me looking and quickly looked away, his neck turning red. ‘Only just this once,’ he mumbled.
Instead of wanting to cry, a smile slipped onto my face. I wiped away my left-over tears with the back of my hand. ‘I don’t want to cry,’ I stated, taking a deep breath. ‘Thank you, though.’
‘Whatever,’ he snapped, still looking away from me.
My smile grew wider. Then I took a step forward and wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug. He tensed for a moment, before sighing lightly and returning it, cupping the back of my neck as he held me close. I closed my eyes, letting out a slow, calming breath.
Maybe Oliver wasn’t quite as bad as he seemed to be.
Chapter Eighteen
‘Olive!’
Oliver took a step back in surprise as Elliot barreled toward him, his arms outstretched. Oliver shot me a wary look as Elliot collided with his legs, wrapping his tiny arms around them, his cheek pressing into Oliver’s thigh.
‘Hey, El,’ I greeted, kicking off my shoes.
Elliot looked up at me, grinning widely. ‘Hi, Pig.’
‘Don’t . . .’ I trailed off, sighing. It seemed like Elliot would always call me Pig, so it wasn’t worth reprimanding him every time.
‘Here,’ Oliver grunted, thrusting his hand towards Elliot, keeping his head raised and looking away.
I glanced down to see Oliver holding out a lollipop to Elliot. Elliot quickly took the lollipop, his eyes wide in excitement. ‘Thanks!’
‘Whatever,’ Oliver muttered, standing stiffly.
Suddenly Will sauntered into the room, clad in only a dress shirt and boxers. I blushed, staring at him incredulously.
‘Harley, have you seen my black dress pants?’ he asked, fiddling with his tie. ‘I think they might have gotten mixed in with your laundry . . .’
I glanced at Oliver to see him staring at Will with a deadpan expression. Will looked up, his eyes widening in surprise when they landed on Oliver. A flush appeared on his face and he laughed sheepishly. ‘Oh, I didn’t realize you brought a guest.’
‘Why are you walking around my house in your underwear?’ I demanded, feeling his embarrassment.
Will pursed his lips at me. ‘I just said I was looking for my pants.’
‘That doesn’t explain why you’re not wearing pants!’ I quickly stole another look at Oliver. Still blank.
‘I’m just going to go to my place and get a different pair,’ Will stated awkwardly, his eyes flickering to Oliver.
I nodded vehemently. ‘Good idea.’ Grabbing Oliver’s arm, I dragged him further into my apartment to let Will slip by us, and out the door. ‘Sorry about that,’ I apologized, avoiding eye contact.
Oliver’s voice was flat when he spoke. ‘Is that your boyfriend?’
I blinked in surprise. ‘What?’
He tilted his head to the side. ‘Husband?’
‘No! Ew, no. He’s my neighbor,’ I told Oliver, shaking my head. ‘He’s just . . . Well, he’s Will.’ There were no words to describe him.
‘Hmmm . . .’ was Oliver’s only response.
It irritated me for some reason. ‘He’s not my boyfriend, Oliver,’ I said firmly. ‘Just a good friend. Completely platonic.’
Oliver eyed me for a moment before shrugging. ‘Why so adamant to make that clear to me? Interested?’
I felt my mouth fall open. ‘W-what? No way!’
The corners of his mouth curved up a little bit. ‘Well, that’s not very exciting.’
‘What—’
‘So, this apartment is only yours?’
‘Um, yeah,’ I responded, plucking a piece of string off my shirt. It was weird saying that to Oliver now that he knew my parents were dead. My chest constricted slightly, but I took a deep breath, forcing it to go away.
‘How long have you been friends with Will for?’
I stared at Oliver, furrowing my eyebrows. That was an odd question. ‘I don’t know . . . he’s been a family friend for a while.’
‘Oh,’ Oliver responded simply.
‘Yep . . .’
Suddenly there was a tug at my shirt. I looked down to see Elliot looking at me disapprovingly. ‘Oliver’s here to play with me, not you, Pig.’
I half smiled. ‘Right. Sorry, Eli.’
He grabbed Oliver’s hand and started dragging him to his room. Oliver sent me a wary look.
‘He won’t kill you,’ I assured him.
Oliver rolled his eyes. ‘I know that. I just haven’t been around little kids in a while . . .’
I did my best to keep my face straight. That’s right – he rarely ever got to see his little sister. Meanwhile, I lived with mine and saw him every day . . . Oliver suddenly scowled at me and I stared back at him, a little surprised.
‘You’re pitying me,’ he accused.
I held my hands up defensively. ‘No, no! I’m not. I’m just thinking . . .’
Oliver relaxed slightly, but still looked uncomfortable. It looked like he was arguing with himself for a moment, and finally he sighed. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be,’ I responded, shaking my head. ‘I was the same way after . . . you know . . .’
Oliver frowned at me. ‘Why didn’t you just say your parents had died when we first met?’
I gave him a sheepish look. ‘I really, really don’t know.’
‘It would have saved you a lot of . . .’ He trailed off, clenching his jaw.
‘What?’
Oliver averted his eyes, glaring at the corner of the room. ‘I’m sorry about the time I snapped at you for getting angry with me when I was badmouthing my dad. And the time where I told you that you shouldn’t pretend to understand
things you don’t. I didn’t realize you actually did.’
My mouth opened slightly. Why did Oliver want to apologize for saying those things now? They were in the past – and he was right. He hadn’t known. ‘You don’t have to apologize,’ I finally told him. ‘It’s my fault too.’
‘I know,’ he deadpanned, making me wince. ‘But I also feel guilty about it,’ he muttered, nearly forcing the words out.
I stayed silent for a moment, gazing at Oliver. What happened to the jerk he usually was all the time? Was it because we had something in common now? We both had experienced the death of our mothers? Or was he pitying me – no, he definitely wasn’t doing that. He didn’t want pity, and he didn’t give it. Maybe he was just truly feeling guilty. It made me smile.
‘Well, thank you,’ I finally said.
He grunted in response, not meeting my eyes.
‘Ahem.’ Elliot cleared his throat, peering up at us with an impatient expression. ‘Wii?’
‘We what?’ Oliver asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
‘No. Wii.’
‘We?’
I laughed. ‘The game system, Oliver.’
‘Oh,’ Oliver responded, frowning again. ‘Right. Come on, Elliot.’
What followed was an intense Mario Cart race. Elliot was going full out, turning his whole body as he made Yoshi turn a corner. Oliver, on the other hand, was driving like a confident actor in a speed race scene. He only had one hand on the steering wheel and he was leaning back, casually turning the wheel when needed. Suddenly Elliot let out a victorious cry, jumping off the ground, and nearly jumping on Oliver.
‘I beat you!’ he cried excitedly, getting all up in his older friend’s face.
I half expected Oliver to throw Elliot across the room – he didn’t seem like the touchy-feely type. To the contrary, though, Oliver emitted a low chuckle, ruffling Elliot’s hair. ‘Good job, kiddo.’
Elliot grinned at Oliver for another moment. I grinned at him too, happy he got along with my brother so well. It was nice for Elliot too.
They started another match, leaving me to just sit and watch. I glanced at my phone, frowning. If Arden and I were going to talk on Sunday, we needed to make plans. After a few moments of going through my contacts, I realized with annoyance that I didn’t have Arden’s number.
‘Shoot,’ Oliver muttered to himself, wrenching the steering wheel in the opposite direction.
My eyes widened in realization. Oliver and Arden weren’t friends now, but they had been at one point, so that meant Oliver should have Arden’s number! ‘Hey, Oliver.’
‘Hold on,’ he muttered, focusing intently on the race. A few moments later Elliot let out an excited squeal and Oliver sighed. He turned to me, a sour expression on his face. ‘What?’
‘Don’t like being beaten by a four-year-old?’ I quipped, smirking at him.
‘Shut up,’ he snapped. ‘What do you want?’
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him. ‘Do you have Arden’s phone number?’
Oliver’s face became hard. ‘Why?’
‘For Sunday.’
Oliver stayed silent.
‘Do you have it?’ I repeated.
Oliver shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Can you check?’
‘I don’t know – can I?’ Oliver responded smartly.
‘Yes, you can.’
He gave me another irritating smile before reaching his hand into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. He flipped through it for a minute, staying silent. ‘I still have it.’
Relief washed over me. ‘Great. What is it?’
‘I’m not telling you,’ Oliver drawled.
I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘Oliver.’
‘Harley.’
‘Just give me his number!’
‘Nope.’
‘I need to call him!’
‘Too bad.’
I scowled, hovering over Oliver with my hands on my hips. ‘Please, Oliver.’ He shook his head. ‘Fine, then I’ll take it by force.’ I reached down a hand to snag it from him, but he quickly pulled it away from me before I could.
‘Hey, this is an invasion of privacy,’ Oliver joked, keeping the phone out of my reach.
‘Oliver, seriously,’ I growled, attempting to grab it again.
‘Oliver, seriously,’ he mocked.
Elliot giggled. ‘Oliver, seriously,’ he chirped.
I turned to give him a quick glare. Then I turned back to Oliver. ‘Look what you’ve started.’
‘Look what you’ve started!’ Elliot echoed gleefully.
Oliver simpered at me, looking pleased with himself. He relaxed his arm, letting his grasp on the phone loosen and I took this as my chance. Before Oliver could react, I quickly moved forward, shooting out my arm to grab it. What I didn’t expect was one of Elliot’s toys to be under my foot and cause me to fall. A startled cry escaped my lips as I fell face first onto Oliver. Our heads knocked together, causing me to wince in pain.
Oliver was on his back now, and I was over him, pinning him to the ground. I stared down at him in shock, partly due to our sudden proximity. Oliver looked unamused, still keeping his arm out of my reach.
‘You going to get off?’ he asked.
‘Y-yeah,’ I stuttered, going to push myself up.
Oliver nodded, bringing his cell phone closer again and I shoved all my embarrassment aside and lunged forward, nearly collapsing on Oliver again. This time I got the phone.
‘Got it!’ I cried, immediately rolling off Oliver and scooting myself away.
‘Hey,’ Oliver protested, now also pushing himself back into a sitting position.
I quickly pulled out my cell phone, copying down Arden’s number. When I was done, I tossed Oliver back his phone. ‘Here.’
He grabbed it, stuffing it back into his pocket. ‘Why do you need to call him, anyway?’ he asked.
I frowned at him. ‘Because we need to meet up to talk about something,’
‘Like what?’
‘Something,’ I repeated, shaking my head at Oliver. ‘It’s none of your business.’
He shrugged. ‘Fine. You don’t have to tell me. But good luck talking to Arden when you have his old cell phone number, and not his current one.’
My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Oliver had tricked me? I shot a glare at him, and he returned it with a self-satisfied grin.
‘You’re a jerk.’
‘I’m aware.’
‘Why can’t I just have his number?’
Oliver gave me a hard look for a moment, mouth pressed in a tight line. ‘I don’t want you to have it,’ he said eventually, his voice quiet.
My eyes widened at his response, but I couldn’t force a coherent word out of my mouth. Instead of gawping at him, I stared at my hands, feeling my cheeks warm up. How was I supposed to take that? Surely he wasn’t jealous . . .
I shook my head. The idea was almost laughable. Oliver wasn’t jealous. There was no way.
‘Olive,’ Elliot started, tugging on Oliver’s arm. ‘The next race is about to start.’
‘OK. I’m going to beat you,’ Oliver told Elliot, nudging him in the side. ‘I’m ready this time.’
Elliot giggled in excitement and I continued to stare at my hands, trying to keep the fluttering sensation out of my chest.
Chapter Nineteen
‘Is this the place?’ Will asked, pulling his car into the parking lot of a small business complex.
I frowned, looking at the signs hanging from each door on the building. The sign on the far left of the building read Side Street Café. ‘This is the place,’ I told Will, reaching over to unbuckle my seat belt.
‘Is your date here?’
‘Will, why do you think every time I go somewhere with a guy that it’s a date?’ I inquired, rolling my eyes at him.
He gave a one-shoulder shrug. ‘In case one of these times you reply with an affirmative answer.’
‘Well, it’s a nega
tive.’
Will grinned. ‘Get out.’
‘On it,’ I replied, pushing the car door open. A frigid blast of air met my face and I was tempted to slam it shut again. Resisting the urge, I hopped out of my car, my feet sinking in the five centimeters of fresh snow on the ground.
‘Be safe!’ Will called right before I shut the door.
It was a horrible, freezing thirty-second period in the snow before I burst through the café’s door, already shivering. A few people sitting closest to the door gave me strange looks as I brushed snow off of my coat. Suddenly I felt a hand ruffling the hair on my head and I glanced up to see Arden grinning down at me.
‘Hey,’ he greeted, retracting his hand. ‘You have some snow . . .’ He gestured to the top of his head.
I quickly ran my hand over the top of my head, feeling wetness. ‘Um, thanks.’
Arden dropped his grin. ‘Follow me,’ he ordered, gesturing with his hand toward the back of the café. ‘I got us a table near the back.’
We maneuvered our way through the crowded room to the far back corner. Arden pulled out a chair for me at a small, two-person table and I couldn’t help but smile. He grinned back, taking a seat across from me.
‘So, this place has amazing smoothies,’ Arden told me, looking excited. ‘They have this tropical smoothie that has watermelon, cantaloupe, strawberries and a bunch of other things. It’s good.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t it too cold for smoothies?’
‘It’s warm in here,’ he countered with a shrug. ‘But you can order a hot cocoa if you want . . . wuss.’
I stared at him in disbelief. He was going to sit there and tease me? ‘I’ll have a smoothie,’ I snapped, determined not to give Arden any satisfaction.
He smiled broadly, pushing himself away from the table. ‘I’ll go order. It’s on me.’
Five minutes later he returned with two tall glasses filled with a pink slush, as well as two plates with what looked like chocolate cake. He placed a smoothie and a piece of cake in front of me before sitting back down.
‘Are you sucking up?’
Arden’s expression immediately dropped. He ducked his head. ‘No.’
‘Uh-huh,’ I responded, pulling my smoothie closer to me. I took a sip cautiously, trying to determine whether or not I was going to like it or not. To my surprise, it was surprisingly sweet – and delicious. ‘This is amazing.’