"You don't know that his stroke was related to any of that."
"I don't know that it wasn't, either," he sighs, spreading a blanket over the couch and sitting down. "So why are you out here, anyway?"
"I don't want to go to sleep," I tell him. "You take the bedroom. I'm gonna stay up."
"All night? Olivia, you know I'll catch you if you have a nightmare," he says. "You haven't made it out of the house once since the first time you stayed here."
I shake my head. "It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
I hesitate. I don't even want to put words to it. "I don't want to dream about him," I finally admit.
"Your brother?" he asks. "I didn't know he was in those dreams."
"Sometimes."
It's usually at the start of the dream. My brother and I in a car or at the kitchen table. Nothing out of the ordinary except I'm terrified and I know he is too. My nightmares must be at least part fiction, but knowing how he died makes me think that the fear was real. And it's far too easy to imagine Matthew's last moments because I've lived them a thousand times.
///
He lays down and pats the space in front of him. "Come here," he sighs reluctantly. Will feels guilty about so many things and I've become one of them.
"It's okay," I swallow.
"I'm tired, Olivia, and you're tired," he says, stretching out his arm. "So stop arguing and go the fuck to sleep."
"What a sweet talker." I laugh, but I lay down. He takes the quilt and tucks it around me. It's the last thing I remember.
39
Will
As tired as I am, I don't fall asleep. Once again, there are so many things wrong here, not least of which the fact that I'm ostensibly doing this to comfort Olivia but happen to be hard as a rock while she lies a centimeter away sleeping peacefully. I took the precaution of shoving half the quilt between us after she fell asleep tonight. Not helping. So, in essence, I'm perving on a student and cheating on my girlfriend, at least in spirit, and I don't know of another goddamn way to deal with any of it.
But the things that make sleep impossible and my shorts profoundly uncomfortable also make me happy that I'm here: the feel of her, the smell of her shampoo, the way her shoulders rise and fall, how at this moment all of her intensity and twitchiness are gone and she's so completely at peace. Today had to have been one of the worst days of her life, and yet it turned out to be one of the best I've had in years.
It wasn't just climbing. It was sharing it with her. I should have known she would love it, that it would strip her of every thought and emotion and let her be free of it all for a while. There are times, like today, when it strikes me that we are far more alike than different. And God knows I wish that weren't the case.
40
Olivia
The next morning, Will is already up and dressed when I wake.
"I can be ready in five minutes," I tell him.
"You don't have to run today. Why don't you just take it easy? I can come back and pick you up in time for class."
I shake my head. "I think I need to get back to it."
"Fine," he sighs, "but you're staying here tonight."
"So bossy," I mumble, but it's seriously hard to pretend I'm unhappy about it.
After practice in the afternoon, he picks me up in the side parking lot so no one will see. We aren't doing anything wrong, but I feel guilty because I know the whole thing makes him feel guilty. And it sure as hell would look bad if anyone saw us.
He turns to me just after he slides into the driver's seat. "Want to climb?" His whole face brightens as he asks, and even if I didn't want to go, I'd say yes.
"Don't you have to work on the farm?"
He grins at me. "Yeah."
"Am I finally seeing the naughty side of Will Langstrom?"
He arches a brow. "This doesn't even come close to the naughty side, Olivia."
Gulp.
I didn't think it was possible, but Will just got 10 times hotter.
He teaches me to lead climb today, which involves clipping into bolts that are already in the mountain as I go up instead of relying on a rope anchored at the top. He also teaches me to belay, which allows him to climb with me on the ground, scared shitless that I'm going to accidentally feed him too much slack from the rope and kill him.
"I trust you," he says.
"You shouldn't," I remind him. "Remember? I nearly killed a teammate?"
"I still trust you." He grins.
Watching him climb is an amazing thing, the strength and the agility and the gracefulness of it all.
"You look like Spiderman!" I shout.
His laugh echoes down through the rocks. "Hold the rope just in case," he shouts back.
He's lighter, happier than usual on the way home. His laughter and smiles come easily.
"I don't understand how your father possibly thought climbing was the wrong choice for you. You're so much happier like this."
He sighs. "I don't think he ever looked at work as something that should make you happy. He looked at it as a responsibility, and all he saw was that I was shirking mine." Normally conversations about his father seem to bother him, but it's not until the farm comes into sight-with a burgundy BMW convertible sitting in the driveway-that his mood plummets. His whole body has stiffened at the sight of it.
"What's the matter?" I ask. "Is it Peter?"
"No," he says, his shoulders sagging. "It's Jessica, my girlfriend."
I know nothing about Jessica, but there's this spiteful little flame in my stomach caused entirely by her. So I definitely don't want to see her, but shouldn't he? "I'll deal with the horses and give you some time to hang out."
///
He nods, his mouth set in a hard line, and heads inside like he's facing a firing squad.
I go to the stables and take my time getting the horses groomed and fed. I was hoping she'd be gone by the time I head back to the house, but even from a distance I can see her, posed like a pageant queen on the front porch with her long, perfect red hair swinging over her shoulder and her legs crossed. My first emotion isn't mere dislike. It's loathing.
She hops up and walks down the stairs with her arm extended. "You must be Olivia," she says with a wide smile. "I'm Jessica, Will's girlfriend."
"Hi." I don't pretend to smile. I know this girl and I are not going to be friends.
"So what brings you out here tonight?" Her voice is too bright, too clipped. She says it as if she's caught me trespassing and is diplomatically sending me on my way.
I raise a brow, and allow a small, mocking smile to escape. I have a feeling it bothers her that I'm here, so I plan to let it keep bothering her. "This and that."
"Why were you in the barn?"
"I was cleaning the stables," I reply. "You know what a disaster they've been since Jackson quit." Her smile falters. She didn't know Jackson quit, obviously, and I want to run a victory lap around her.
Will walks out the front door, freshly showered, followed by Dorothy. The identical tension in their shoulders is really the first resemblance besides eye color I've ever noticed between them.
"I see you two have met," says Dorothy.
"Yes," replies Jessica. "Olivia was just telling me she was helping with the horses. If you needed help, you should have asked me, Dorothy."
What utter bullshit. I don't know how this girl affords a BMW or those designer heels she's wearing by working for the university, but there's not a chance that she's cleaning stables.
"Olivia grew up working with horses," Dorothy explains.
Jessica walks around Dorothy and goes to Will's other side, grabbing his hand. "You should teach me what to do, so next time I can be the one to help. I'll need to learn eventually anyway, right?"
Whoa. What in the actual fuck did that mean? Is he marrying this girl?
Will acts as if she hasn't spoken as he turns to her. "You ready to head out?"
"Head out?" she asks. "But your mom made dinner. We don't spend enough time out here anyway. You know I love the farm."
"I thought we were eating out," Will argues, sounding a bit like a surly adolescent.
"We can eat out any time," she exclaims. "But how often can we eat with your mom and your star athlete?"
Pretty much anytime, I think with a smirk.
It's uncomfortable, sitting down at the table with her there, especially when I don't know my role or what Will has told her. Dorothy asks me how our climb was over dinner, though, so that's one cat out of the bag. I tell her Will taught me to belay.