He extended his hand. I left him hanging.
“I’ll stop spiraling,” I started. His brow cocked, curiosity piqued. “Ifyou buy me a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue.”
He rolled his eyes, his stern mask slipping.
“The only reason I’m giving into this deal is because I’m gonna need a bottle too. I’ve got an agenda to ask a certain siren on a date and I’m pretty sure she’s gonna reject me because she’s too brilliant to date some loser musician.”
I snorted, finally allowing him to yank me up. We headed towards the dorm, Jack rattling off a host of extravagant date ideas, but as we walked, I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on me.
45
Courtney
Themissedcallonmy phone screen stared at me from where it sat on the coffee table. No voicemail. No text. Just a missed call from Mom.
“You don’t have to call her back.”
Months. It’d been entirely too long since the last time I talked to her- and even then, it had only been over a text. It didn’t matter how long we went without speaking, her voice, dripping with disdain, was always fresh in my mind. Though by now, I'd learned too many truths, discovered parts of myself that were stronger than I could’ve imagined, and survived the impossible.
My fingers wrapped around the phone.
“I don’t have to. I want to.”
Silver bolts of lightning crackled in Ollie’s eyes in the same way they had when I commanded him to undress. No one had looked at me with that emotion before. I hadn’t recognized it at first.
He was proud.
I wanted him to look at me that way all the fucking time.
My thumb hovered over the little green shape of a phone.
“You can always hang up,” he murmured.
My mouth dried out, throat suddenly scratchy and hand quivering.
I grit my teeth and pressed the button.
Ollie’s hand smoothed over my thigh. I slid mine over his, gripping hard. I was strong, reborn into something more. The woman who birthed me didn’t own the woman I was becoming, and she never would. I wouldn’t let her.
Every pause between robotic rings spiked my heart and squeezed my lungs. She wouldn’t answer- she wanted me to stew in anxiety, question all the things I could’ve done to incite her rage.
“You should’ve answered the first time.”
Her voice punched through the speaker, exactly as venomous as I expected. Ollie’s fingers flexed on my thigh.
I exhaled slowly, using her own tactic against her: a sigh of disappointment and a long pause.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked, keeping my voice level despite the riot of nerves twisting my stomach into complicated knots.
She scoffed, but I caught the sharp breath of surprise. That little sound was a gust of wind in my sails.
“I saw Vince’s mother yesterday.”
The pressure of Ollie’s stare burning into the side of my face almost stole my focus. Brushing my thumb over his in reassurance, I held onto my expectant silence.
A sardonic laugh, “Nothing to say?”
A storm of guilt threatened to tear down the gates around my mind. Warm skin under my palm grounded me. Silence was my weapon and I’d wield it with precision.
