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Chase makes a sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between a gag and a growl. “I’ll tell you what I told Oli when I gave her the talk all those years ago.”
“I’m not a child.”
He clicks his tongue. “Then don’t act like one.” I shoot him a glare and shuck off his hand, but he just holds it tighter. “Men are assholes. Plain and simple, Eve. They lie, steal and cheat but more than that, they’ll say any-fucking-thing to get their dick wet. Never trust a man.”
My eyes narrow as they slide down his body. “Says the man,” I mutter.
He huffs a laugh. “Exactly.”
Swallowing, I turn back to the doctor's office. I’ve seen doctors before, but never in a place like this. And Chase is right; the doctors in Divinity don’t believe in birth control. They don’t prescribe it, hardly do female exams and if they did, they’d certainly tell the patient's parents about it. Over Sunday waffles at Flo’s, no doubt.
Privacy doesn’t exist back home and women’s rights are far and few between.
But here in Mammoth, I’m free.
Here in Mammoth, I’m allowed to put me first.
With an unexpected sniffle, I tug Chase into an awkward hug that he slowly responds to, but when he does, I feel another piece of myself heal.
“Thank you for thinking of me, Chase.”
His hand rubs down my spine with a familiarity I’ve missed.
“Someone has to.”
A hand on my knee pulls me from the memory and I blink back to the present, finding Oli staring at me with a look of concern. Her lollipop’s nowhere to be seen, the music’s gone quiet, and the car is off.
I shake my head and look around, finding us parked beneath a heavily shaded area in a dirt lot. There’s nothing to see but thick greenery and blue skies.
“You good?” she murmurs.
My tongue darts out, wetting my dry lips as my head instinctually bobs, shrugging off her concern. “I’m fine.”
Her head tilts and her brow cocks. “Try again.”
My head stills, and I bite my cheek. I’m so used to being what everyone else wants me to be. A masked version of myself that’s easier for others to digest, to handle. Someone easy to be around that doesn’t take up too much space.
What would it be like to take the mask off?
“No,” I finally say, shaking my head. I meet her knowing blue eyes and see the understanding there, letting it ground me. “I’m really not okay.”
She stares at me for a long moment, but neither of us speaks. And in that silence, I find the quiet acceptance I needed. The one that tells me it's okay to take the mask off. To take up space. To exist wholly as myself and not who others want me to be.
To exist for myself.
“That’s alright,” she breathes, breaking the silence. “No one’s actually okay, are they? Not really. Deep down, everyone’s a bit fucked up.” She shrugs, her face splitting into a smile. “Our grandparents lived through the Great Depression. That shit’s gotta be somewhere in our DNA.”
I roll my eyes, but before I can stop them, words fall from my lips that have lived on my tongue for far too long.
“How do you do it, Oli?” I murmur, guilt and worry filling me all at once. It’s not something we ever really talk about—what happened to her, what she lives with every day. She knows I’m here for her if she ever wants to open up, but she hasn’t yet and that’s okay.
I just can’t help but wonder.
She blinks a few times and turns to look out the window. We’re silent for a few long moments and I worry I’ve pushed too hard.
“It’s silly,” she whispers, her voice laced with vulnerability. I reach out, threading our fingers together so she knows I’m here. “I’m just delusionally optimistic.”
My head cocks to the side. “What do you mean?”
