She looks up at me and something changes on her face. "What are you thinking?" she asks, with a small note of dread in her voice.
"That was the most amazing, most intense sex I've ever had," I tell her, "and I can't believe it happened."
"You regret it," she says, her voice hard.
"Olivia," I sigh, pulling her to my chest. "It's not that. I just need to figure this out."
"Figure what out?"
"What happens next. I mean, it shouldn't have happened. We both know that. I took advantage of-"
"No," she snaps. "You didn't. Did you hear me saying no? Probably not because I was too busy begging you to keep going. You did not take advantage of me."
"Even if you said yes, you're in a vulnerable place right now and I was in a position-"
"Do not say you were in a position of authority. We moved past that a long time ago. Are you really going to let the way it looks to everyone outside this room dictate whether or not this is wrong?"
Except it's not everyone outside this room. It's me. I didn't do this after careful thought, after balancing my duty to her and the school with the things I want. No, I let my anger and my need obliterate every reasonable thought. I gave in to something I've exerted unholy restraint to avoid until now. And in doing so, I've put her scholarship at risk.
"I don't know, Olivia. I can't think. But I do know they're going to notice we've been gone," I sigh. "We should get back out there."
"You want me to go back and continue my date with Evan?" she gasps. She snatches her dress off the floor and begins sliding it back on.
"No. Fuck. Olivia, your scholarship and my job are both on the line here. I just … I've got to figure this out, and until I do we both need to make it through the rest of the banquet as if nothing happened."
"And then what? Are we leaving together? Am I going to see you?"
I look at her in that dress with that smudged lipstick just like I envisioned and I want-no, need to do it all over again. I want to take her back to my apartment and do a hundred different things to her.
"We can't leave together, you know that. Peter is out there. Jessica is out there. Hell, Peter's boss is out there. The most important thing either of us can do for the next hour is act like nothing is wrong."
She slips her heels back on and moves to the door, her head high and her posture rigid.
"Olivia, wait-"
"For what?" she demands. "You just fucked me on a table and now you're sending me on my way. What more could you possibly need to add to that?"
I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. She's so far from the truth, and yet I can totally see why she believes it. "Look, that's not what is happening. But we did something unbelievably rash, and I want to make sure the steps we take next are determined by reason and not," I gesture between the two of us, "this."
I approach her and she steps back. I hate that. I know already, based on the wary look on her face as she watches me, that I've hurt her.
I pull her to me, but she remains rigid in my arms, uncertain. "I just need a little time to think, okay?" I ask.
"No," she says, pushing away. "If this wasn't enough to make up your mind, nothing is."
///
She starts down the hall before I've even finished dressing. I call after her, but she never turns around.
By the time I get back to the auditorium, she and Evan are gone, which is both a relief and a worry. I excuse myself as soon as I can and head to my apartment, wondering how I'm going to tell Peter and my mom what I did, and how the hell I'm going to pay for Brendan's last semester with no income other than a farm that's still operating at a loss.
I could solve those issues by lying to everyone, but how will I live with myself if I do? How will I face Olivia every day knowing what I did, how I sacrificed her for my mom and the farm and the school all over again?
There's a dull pounding in my head. I eventually lay down, hoping sleep will make the answer clear. But I just lay there, alternately appalled at myself for my bad decision-making and reliving it in my head, wanting it again so badly that I find my hips pressing into the mattress.
It's nearly daylight when I give up on sleep, and decide to do the one thing that has ever successfully cleared my head.
I go climbing.
In spite of my rustiness, I choose a difficult climb, knowing I need something so consuming that it will obliterate all other thought. I scramble up the rock, hammering the first pin in, and scramble up again. Twisting and straining, moving quickly until my shirt is sticking to my back and sweat begins to drip into my eyes. I clip into the next bolt and pull my fleece off, throwing it to the ground before I keep going.
I'm halfway up the mountain face when a single thought occurs to me.
I wish Olivia were here.
This was once my sweet spot, climbing alone, and now it's shifted and expanded to include her. It feels empty in her absence. The farm, my job, my life were once central but now are merely white noise that surrounds her.
I stall, clinging to a small handhold, only a single foot making contact with rock, realizing that she isn't just a part of my life now. She is all of it. And even if I made a mistake, even if it means that I will gravely disappoint Peter and mess up things with the farm, she is non-negotiable.
She is the thing I won't give up.
66
Olivia
I told Evan I was sick.
It was easy enough to be convincing. I've never felt more ill in my life. I thought when Will came to me that things had changed. Sleeping with him was beyond anything I'd ever imagined and when it ended, I expected to see my own surprise reflected on his face.
Instead, I saw regret. Instead, I heard him telling me to return to my date. Telling me he needed to think. And that was the difference between us.
I did not need to think.
I knew.
And he should have, too.
I don't sleep. I sit with my back pressed against the headboard. How can I possibly stay here now? I can't imagine three more seasons of wanting him, of seeing him daily and remembering that look on his face as I left.
There's a knock on the door. Despite everything, I open it assuming it's Will. Hoping that maybe he's made a different decision than the one he seemed to have made earlier tonight.
But it isn't him at all.
Jessica walks in uninvited, still wearing her dress from the party.
"I'd invite you in, but it looks like you already took care of that on your own," I scowl.
She glares at me. "Cut the shit, Olivia. I know about you and Will."
"There's nothing to know."
"I followed you!" she cries, her voice on the brink of tears. "I saw him take off after you at the banquet and I followed him. And believe me, neither of you was quiet."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I lie. "I went to the bathroom. I have no idea where he went."
"You lying little bitch," she says, shoving me.
I feel that rage in the pit of my stomach, my father's legacy, and I refuse to succumb to it. "I don't know how much you know about me," I warn, "but I can guarantee that if you lay another finger on me, you'll regret it."
She clenches her fists. "I don't need to hit you because I can do something much worse. Let's see how much he wants you when you're the reason he gets fired next week."
I have a lifetime's experience with acting calm when I'm scared shitless. Right now, I need it. "You're insane," I reply. "He's my coach and nothing more. Unless you have some proof to the contrary, you should probably get the fuck out of my apartment."
"I don't need proof that you slept with him. I have enough to fry you both without it. I have proof of the two of you sleeping under the same roof repeatedly. I have photos of him dropping you off at your apartment at seven in the morning. You were drinking with him when you were under-age. I witnessed that myself."
///
"If you cared about him at all, you wouldn't think of threatening his job. You know they need that money."
Jessica rolls her eyes. "Maybe love is knowing what's best for someone. And I think we both know that you are not what's best. Do you really think you're going to make him happy? Look at all the problems you have. Can you honestly say you're the kind of girl he should end up with? Raise kids with? Sinking your claws in him because you want him isn't love either. It'll ruin his life. Even the way you've risked his career with all this bullshit. Is that love, Olivia?"
I want to lash out at her, but I can't deny the basic truth of what she's saying. Nothing about my arrival at this school has benefitted him. I can't possibly make him happy the way someone else can, someone pulled together and from a good family and, well, not crazy.