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“Guys, it’s Mia,” Olivia announced.
I froze, sighing inwardly as I glanced over at them with a smile and a half-hearted wave.
When she called me over, I hesitated, but ultimately, I went because it wasn’t like I could ignore them. Turning back, I trudged through the sand toward them and came to a stop in front of Olivia, who looked far better in a baggy hoodie and skinny jeans than anyone had a right to.
“Hey, having a party?” I asked, hoping I could be polite, then bail.
“Yeah,” Olivia said. “What are you doing here alone?”
“Nothing.” More grateful than ever I had an excuse to leave, I hooked a thumb back toward the walkway. “Um, anyway, I’d better go. I’ve got to deliver the packages for the Angel Program. I’m actually meeting Carson in a few minutes.”
“Carson?” Olivia scrunched her nose, and I wanted to tell her it was unattractive
“Yeah. Remember? It was our remediation project.”
“No, I know that, but it’s just . . .” She grinned, and something vicious glinted in her eye—sharp and lethal—a warning for me to brace myself. “I ran into Carson this morning. He was at the pool swimming, and I saw him in the lot on his way out. We went to lunch, and then I invited him to the party. He said he’d come.” Olivia shrugged and reached out, placing a hand on my arm, her smile saccharine. “Looks like you’ll be delivering packages alone.”
So, that’s where he was this morning. When he was supposed to be grocery shopping with me for the Angel families, he was out with Olivia. Nice. I wonder where he was yesterday when I met with Mr. Bell too.
I fisted my hands at my side, letting the information wash over me. “I’m sure he’ll be there. He probably just meant he was stopping by after,” I said, trying to save face. “He wouldn’t do that to me—leave me to everything alone.”
Olivia gasped theatrically, covering her mouth with one hand, then reached out again to squeeze my arm. “Oh, honey. That’s so sweet. You think he cares about you, don’t you?”
I clenched my teeth, saying nothing.
“I’m sorry, but maybe you shouldn’t reach quite so high, you know. I’m nice, so I want to be real with you. You’re cute and all, but guys like Carson, they go out with girls like me. I’d hate to see you get hurt. Just try to stay in your lane, hun.”
I glanced away, biting my tongue, and struggling to conjure a smile, to put on a brave face. The best thing I could do was thank her for the advice, then move on. It was simpler that way. But I was tired of swallowing down my emotions, tired of easy, and sick of getting steamrolled. Maybe self-restraint was overrated.
“You know, Olivia, for someone so pretty, you’re so ugly when you open your mouth.” I smiled one of her trademark plastic smiles—equal parts malicious and disingenuous—then ripped her hand off my arm.
Olivia’s eyes widened, and her face turned red. Clearly, she wasn’t used to people telling her off.
But it felt oh-so-good. I made her angry. Or embarrassed her. Or both.
But I wasn’t done yet. I had years of pent-up aggression, waiting for me to give it a voice.
I stepped forward and poked her in the chest. “You know what I think? I think Carson turned you down.” I had no idea if that was the case. He probably hadn’t, and I was an idiot for saying it, but something deep down told me it was true. Olivia and Tasha always seemed to get what they wanted, but I had seen the way Carson looked at her at Bake and Batter and then at his party. Like it was a chore just being around her.
“That’s ridiculous.” She flipped her bleached-out hair over her shoulder, but she wouldn’t meet my eye.
“Is it? Because you all but told him you wanted him to ask you to the Snowflake Ball, but he didn’t, did he?”
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish in the most satisfying way.
“That’s what I thought,” I said and figured if I wanted to make my exit, this was as good a time as any.
I turned my back to her and started up the hill toward the walkway when she called out behind me, “You can’t just talk to me like that!”
When I said nothing, she continued, “I didn’t want to go to the stupid dance with him anyway!” Then I heard her and Tasha conversing, the word “loser” sprinkled in their conversation, but I didn’t care because my feet were hitting the wooden planks in a steady cadence, shoulders back, head lifted high. I told my parents what I thought. I stood up to Olivia. And it felt good.
Chapter 30
MIA
Theadrenalinefrommyencounter with Olivia was short-lived.
I stood in the chilly air, waiting outside the Brooks’ home, with no sign of Carson in sight.
