Waking Olivia(40)

I must have been out of my damned mind.

I return to the house and sit at the table, not even trying to disguise what I feel. It's pointless anyway.

"I guess things didn't go well with Jessica," my mother says, looking at my face.                       
       
           


///
       

"No, not really," I sigh.

Brendan and Olivia walk in a few minutes later. I should be worried  about what they'll say, or about how mad my mom's going to be when she  hears I punched Brendan, but honestly all I can do is look at Olivia.  With her hair messed up and her lips kiss-swollen she only looks more  beautiful to me. I can't believe that I did what I did. And I also can't  believe I stopped.

"My God, Brendan! What happened to your face?" my mother cries.

He grins, taking a quick look at me. "Got hit by a falling rake. It's  cool. I should probably be more careful with shit that's not mine."

Olivia doesn't meet my eye once, and I wonder what that means. Maybe  she's mad at me for walking off the way I did. Or maybe she's mad at me  for kissing her in the first place, though I find that difficult to  believe. When I remember the way her whole body arched into me, her  sharp inhale as my mouth moved to her neck, I know it was mutual. Just  thinking about it has me hard again.

She and my mother serve the pie, and surprisingly, we manage to get  through dessert without me assaulting anyone or violating NCAA  regulations.

"I'm going to head home," I announce once we've finished cleaning up,  giving my mom and Olivia a quick glance to silence any objections.

Peter and I walk out to our cars at the same time. "Will-" he begins,  and then he trails off. Finally, he shakes his head and settles a hand  on my shoulder. "You've grown into a fine man. I know I can trust you."

Now I feel like an asshole in pretty much every way possible.





58





Olivia



He kissed me.

He kissed me like it was something he couldn't live without. As if he was suffocating and I was oxygen.

He kissed me as if I wasn't optional. Made me forget everything that had  happened and everything that stood before us and between us.

And then he ran, and I haven't seen his cowardly ass since.

He started this. And now he's avoiding me. Probably worried he's going  to have to sit me down and explain how sorry he is and how it can't  happen like I'm some pathetic girl with a crush.

I don't plan to give him the chance.

When he still hasn't appeared by lunchtime, I ask Dorothy to take me  home. "But why?" she asks. "I thought you'd stay for the whole weekend."

"I probably ought to study," I mumble.

"Didn't you bring your books here? Please, at least stay today," she  begs. "I'm making that chicken you like, and one of the kids from next  door wants to go riding. I was hoping you could take her out." Holy  shit. She's as good at begging as Brendan. I wonder if Will possesses  even a quarter of their ability, and if so, what he begs for.

Bad Olivia. Not helpful when you're trying to stay mad at him.

I clean the stables, rake the side yard, give the riding lesson and let  Dorothy teach me how to make pie. I may be stuck here, but I'll be  damned if I'm gonna be sitting long-faced inside the house when Will  returns.

Again and again, though, I run my fingers over my mouth in wonder. He  kissed me. And it was so unbelievably good, so perfect, that I don't see  how I'm going to go through my whole life without feeling it again.





59





Will



Yes, I'm avoiding her. It doesn't feel like I have a choice. Right now  some gate I've had shut tight, on lockdown, is swinging wide open just  waiting for her to walk through, which means that I should be berating  myself. But instead, all I can think about is the feel of her, the small  hum in her throat as she responded, and that makes me recall just how  much further I wanted to take things yesterday.

The mechanic arrives to fix the combine. The whole ride out to the field  he's telling me some story about a seed separator. The only thing that  could conceivably make this story interesting would be if flesh-eating  zombies emerged from the seed separator and went on a rampage, but today  I'm not even sure I'd listen to that.

I'm avoiding Olivia because I'm weak. Because the worst part of me wants  her to be the one to pursue it, to not take no for an answer and  somehow make me guiltless. Which is impossible because unless she tied  me down-which is a possibility I'm definitely going to imagine  later-it's entirely on me. And I can't do that to her, or to Peter.

But it doesn't stop me from imagining it all day. Or from missing her,  and hating the fact that she's here and I'm not with her. My mom takes  the golf cart out later and brings me lunch. "Looked like you were never  planning to come back in," she says.                       
       
           


///
       

I shrug. "Lots out here to get done."

"There's almost nothing to be done out here that can't wait," she  replies. "So why don't you tell me why you punched your brother and are  spending the day out here hiding?"

I should have known she'd never fall for Brendan's ‘I got hit by a rake'  story. "He kissed Olivia," I tell her. "He said he was just trying to  cover for me with Jessica, but he didn't have to take it that goddamn  far."

"Will," she sighs. "You're so in love with that girl you can't see  straight. Something has to change or this is going to turn ugly fast."

"What can I possibly change, Mom? I can't quit. We can't afford it. I  could probably get her a scholarship with another school. Now that she's  winning, I could probably get her in a D1 school, but I'm not uprooting  her like that when she only has three semesters left. Plus, I can't  even imagine what it would be like knowing she's off in some new city  and there's no one to stop her-"

"I know, I can't imagine that either. So we need to look at other  possibilities. What if Peter tried to find you a position somewhere else  at the school?"

"I still wouldn't be allowed to date her. And then who's going to help  her during the away meets? Who's going to talk her off a ledge just  before the race starts? It's all pointless anyway. She's leaving here  after graduation and I'm not."

She cocks her head to the side and sucks in a cheek. "I wouldn't give up  on everything just yet," she says softly. "These things have a way of  working out when they need to."

"Nothing's worked out for me in a long time, Mom. And I don't see a lot of point in hoping that's going to magically change."

"Well, we'll worry about that later. In the meantime, come back and take  that girl climbing. She's working herself to the bone trying to keep  busy and the last thing she needs is more work."

"I figured she was busy being entertained by Brendan," I say snidely.

"Your brother loves you," she replies. "I know he's got a strange way of showing it, but I think he's trying to help."



Olivia is pissed. She doesn't even look at me as I approach, and I can  tell by the rigidity of her stance that it's intentional. She has her  guard up again, the way she did when she first arrived, as if she  expects to be hurt. I hate that, but I can't exactly fix it either.

"Let's go climbing," I say. She wants to stay mad, but she wants to  climb more. I can see it in her face as she reluctantly agrees.

We don't say much on the drive. Maybe she's waiting for me to begin, to  explain. Or maybe the truth is so obvious that neither of us feels the  need to address it.

As we turn left on the highway, she looks toward me. "This isn't the direction we normally go."

"Yeah, I figure you're ready for a bigger climb."

She almost smiles, and it's the first glimpse of happiness I've seen on  her face today. "Are you actually admitting I've done something well?"

"Nah, just admitting you're not quite as terrible at it as you were."

"Terrible?" she scoffs. "You're gonna eat your words, asshole."

When we arrive, the doubts sink in. I've chosen a really difficult,  technical climb and for all the wrong reasons. I was looking for  something hard enough to silence the awkwardness between us, put it on  the back burner, but now I'm worried I may get her killed in the  process.

"I was kidding before," I tell her. "You've done really well so far, but  now that I'm looking at it I don't know if this is a good idea."

"Feel free to wuss out," she says over her shoulder. "I'm climbing it."

Fuck.

Someone has already established the route, but I don't necessarily trust  it, so I go up first, checking the bolts to about the halfway point,  which is as far as I'm letting her climb. I hang my weight off each one  to assure myself they can hold hers. When I'm satisfied, I climb back  down and grab the ropes.