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Sarah surprises me by reaching up and wrapping her arms around my neck, her lips brushing my cheek. “You’re right. There’s no rush.” She smiles before stepping away. “Call me tomorrow?”
I nod and she jogs down the street to catch up with Nick and Caley. She glances over her shoulder with a little wave, and I set off down the street toward home.
How could I even think I was ready for something like that? Sex is a huge deal, and not something I should be rushing into when my thoughts are so clearly screwed up when it comes to Sarah and Hannah. I need to sort my shit out. I can’t commit to Sarah when I’m still thinking about Hannah. It’s not fair to either of them. I run my hands over my face with a groan. I need to get home and have a cold shower!
18
I pause at the door, taking a few deep breaths before stepping into homeroom on Monday morning. I’m prepared for the worst. Tiana messaged me Friday night, pissed off I’d told Oliver about her being on the magazine. I wonder what Sarah’s reaction had been and how badly it’s going to rebound onto me. I’m surprised when I see the two of them sitting together, whispering and laughing as I walk in. Ms Meakes follows me into the room, so I don’t have to worry about listening to whatever mean taunts Sarah was going to fling my way, but I know she won’t let me off scot-free.
Sure enough, when I leave homeroom Sarah’s waiting for me outside. Tiana, however, is nowhere to be seen. I straighten my shoulders as I walk past her, but they slump a little as she falls into step beside me.
“You’ve been holding out on me,” she laughs breezily, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I never expected Oli to be so… experienced.” Biting down on her bottom lip she reaches over and squeezes my arm. “I mean… Man, that boy certainly knows how to… well, you know. No wonder you’ve been trying to keep him all to yourself. I totally get why you’ve been such good… friends for so long.”
My stomach swirls as I try to block her out. Oliver’s made his choice. I don’t need to have it rubbed in my face every day. I quicken my pace, wishing my psychology classroom wasn’t all the way on the opposite side of the school.
“You know, it’s funny,” Sarah continues, matching my strides. “He never talks about you. I mean, considering you guys are supposed to be the best of friends, I would’ve thought he’d have all these funny little stories about what you guys get up to when you hang out. Or maybe he’d invite you to come to parties with us.” She steps in front of me, forcing me to stop. Raising her eyebrows, she pouts. “Unless you guys aren’t friends anymore? I hope it’s not because of little old me?”
Anger surges through me. “Back off Sarah. Whatever. You won. I don’t care anymore.”
Fighting back tears, I shove past her and hurry down the hall towards my Psych class as the bell rings. I slink down into my chair, trying my best to focus on what my teacher is saying about the influence of groups on individual behaviour in social settings.
Sarah’s baiting me. She’s trying to get a rise out of me for her own personal satisfaction. Oliver’s changed. Since his dad died, he’s not the same person. He’s secretive, moody, and withdrawn. We’re barely on speaking terms. Something is going on with him, but it’s clear he’s no longer going to confide in me. Whatever. I just want my friend back and for Sarah to leave me alone.
An idea comes to me, and before I can change my mind, I pull out my phone and type out a message asking him to meet me at the footy club after school. I don’t care if he wants to date Sarah - even if she is the spawn of Medusa - but I don’t need her rubbing it in my face every day.
My heart thuds in my chest as I wait for a reply. He’ll be in class right now, so I don’t know if he’ll be able to check his phone or not. I breathe a sigh of relief at the thumbs up emoji that flashes up on my screen. We’ll hang out like we used to, and maybe I’ll get some sort of closure on my stupid feelings for him. If he really likes Sarah, I’ll learn to live with it. But if he still cares enough about me, maybe he can get her to back off me at school.
Tiana avoids me in Media Studies, sitting at the back of the room near the door. By the time the bell goes at the end of the day, she’s out the door and gone. It doesn’t make sense. She was so angry in her text message. Why’s she avoiding letting me have it? And why didn’t Sarah say anything about it earlier? Surely she’d take any excuse to bag how lame she thought the school magazine is, and how no friend of hers would ever be associated with it. I sigh. Mondays are becoming my least favourite day of the week.
∞
Despite being the middle of March, it’s unusually warm. I sit on the Lakewood team bench after school in my active-wear, rereadingVampire Academywhile I wait for Oliver to arrive. His school is about fifteen minutes further from the football club, and I don’t know if he’ll go home first or come straight here. Mum dropped off a change of clothes and Brad’s football before taking Brad to my aunt and uncle’s for dinner.
“Hey.” Oliver drops his schoolbag and plops down on the bench next to me. He gives me a small smirk, raising his eyebrows at my outfit. “What’s all this?”
“Hey.” I slide my bookmark in, placing the book beside me. I didn’t realise how hard it would be to face him again. My heart is doing this stupid flutter thing in my chest. I still care about him, and I don’t want to lose our friendship. He’s still in his school uniform, minus his blazer. His grey shirt clings to his muscular chest, and I swallow before dragging my gaze up to his face. I take in the dark circles under his eyes. “You look tired.”
“Thanks.”
Heat spreads up my neck and into my cheeks. “Sorry, I just–”
“You messaged me, Hannah.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking out over the football field, avoiding eye contact completely.
Maybe this isn’t the best idea.But he’s here. I’m not going to waste the chance to try and salvage whatever is left of our friendship.
I stand up, handballing the football up in the air and catching it. “I thought we could just hang out, have some fun. You know, like we used to?” I bite the inside of my cheek, waiting for him to say something.
He lifts his chin at me. “You sure you’re ready to take me on, Robinson?”
A laugh rumbles out of me, and it feels good to be joking around with my friend again.
“Bring it, Johnson,” I cock my head at him.
The smirk spreads back over his face, as he stands up and runs at me, grabbing me around the waist and lifting me over his shoulder. I let out a squeal, kicking my legs and slapping at his back. He laughs as he sets me back down on the ground. He backs away from me, moving until we’re about ten metres apart.
I smile, kicking the footy to him. He marks it easily and sends it back to me.
“Sorry!” I squeak out as my next kick goes sideways and he has to run after the ball.
