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Her response is quick.
Olivia: :(
Me: Why :(?
Olivia: Bad day. Going to bed.
She had a bad day? Isn’t she supposed to come tell about it then? Maybe she decided not to since I told her I wouldn’t see her until Monday. Damn it. What if she needs me and I’m too busy enjoying spending time all by myself for her to come and say so?
Me: Want to come over and stay here with me? Or me go there?
Olivia: No
No? A bad feeling settles in my gut. That’s not like Olivia at all. How bad was her day? I want to go over there and check on her, but she doesn’t want me around tonight. I’m supposed to respect that. That sounds like something a good boyfriend would do, I guess.
Two hours pass before I can’t take it anymore, slipping on my shoes and grabbing a hoodie. In five seconds, I’ve crossed the hall and knocked on her door three times. She doesn’t answer. Damn it. This is why I either need a key or she should leave her spare under the mat. I was hoping that by some chance she wouldn’t be asleep. I want to see her and make sure she’s okay, because it didn’t sound like it.
I knock again in one last effort, praying for a miracle. My prayers are answered because the door opens, a frowning, heartbroken-looking Olivia on the other side. She’s got bedhead going on, but her eyes are puffy and red. She’s been crying, but she looks like she just woke up too. Why is she crying?
Why did she frown when she saw me?
“Corey? What are you doing?” Her voice has a vulnerability in it that’s not usually there.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, placing my hands on her waist and tugging her closer to me. Her eyes widen like she’s been caught, but then it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.
She steps away from me, waving her hand in dismissal. I don’t know what bothers me more. The fact she stepped away from me or the words that come out of her mouth next. “Nothing. I’m fine. Bad day and a nightmare, that’s all. I only got up for a glass of water. What are you doing over here?”
A nightmare that terrified her so much she was crying in her sleep? “You don’t look fine,” I reply softly, ignoring her question. And this bothers me. A lot. Way more than I was expecting. “Let me sleep over,” I blurt out. “In case you have another nightmare,” I add, as if I can protect her and prevent them.
Olivia almost smiles. She looks exhausted, and I wonder how bad her day and nightmare were. After a pause, she nods. Quickly, I grab my spare, lock up my apartment, and then follow her. I watch as she pours a glass of water and downs it before heading to her room.
Her bedroom is Olivia through and through. There’s rolled-up yoga mats in the corner with exercise DVDs, a hamper filled to the rim with clothes, and a stack of more video games with another gaming console. She crawls into bed without waiting even a second for me. Her eyes close before I can toe out of my shoes and take off my hoodie.
Olivia’s back is facing me when I slip underneath the sheets. Whether she wants me to or not, I take a risk and tug her to my chest. Luce used to have nightmares from our parents’ murders. She would wake up crying, terrified, and looking devastated. Olivia was crying, and heartbreak can pass for devastated, so she fits two of the three. Maybe it wasn’t an ordinary nightmare and it ties to a real-life event, like with Lucy. What if she was dreaming of that Aaron person again? I nearly forgot about it, but now, it’s all I can thinking about.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Olivia?” I gently ask.
“Yeah, I’m just tired,” she whispers.
How many times have I told that lie to get out of talking? To prevent someone from asking me what’s wrong? To keep people in the dark about how badly I was doing?
“You can talk to me too, you know.”
“I know,” she replies, but it sounds like another lie. “It was a long, bad day combined with an even worse nightmare. That’s all. Let’s go to sleep.”
“Okay.”
Only, I don’t go to sleep. I can’t. Thanks to being this way myself, I can spot someone who is avoiding talking and lying about it, which is exactly what she’s doing. Something is going on with her, and she doesn’t want to tell me. I’m hurt a hell of a lot that she doesn’t trust me as much as I’ve trusted her. More than I expected. Maybe it’ll take time like it did with me. I’m sure that’s it.
Either way, I stay awake, waiting to see if she’ll have another nightmare. Possibly one about Aaron, whoever that may be. After a couple of hours, I get thirsty. I carefully crawl out of b
ed for a glass of water. I probably couldn’t sleep if I wanted to. Olivia’s actions tonight have me so distracted and wound up. Why won’t she talk to me?
The cool liquid doesn’t do much to soothe me, so I return to her bedroom. I stop short in the doorway when I see her. Olivia’s frowning in her sleep, tears spilling down her face. I only know because the girl has a nightlight, and it’s highlighting her face. I take a step forward to wake her when she sobs, “Aaron, don’t. Please, don’t do this.”
Her words freeze me.
Aaron.
