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Olivia was Trent’s little tag-along sister. The first time I met her, we were in the Silver Creek cafeteria. She came up to Trent and asked to borrow five bucks for lunch, and I almost choked on my bologna sandwich because I thought she was so pretty. I had to gulp down a slug of milk from my carton and then pound my chest to clear my windpipe. Olivia asked me if I was still learning how to chew.
I pull myself back from that embarrassing memory in time to hear her say something to Danielle about how great the food here at the retreat has been. “I loved that harvest salad last night. Were those golden raisins in there?”
Her arm’s still around my waist. Her hip leans against my leg, and warmth fills me up.
I don’t even care about breakfast.
I’m not hungry anymore.
I’m consumed by how good it feels to be this close to her.
Finally.
Maybe some part of me has been waiting on this for a long time…
For fourteen years. Ever since I first laid eyes on her, and almost choked to death on Wonder Bread and processed meat.
“Yeah, I’m so glad you liked it.” Danielle doesn't sound glad about anything right now. She shakes her head and studies us. “Wow—sorry, I just can’t believe this. I had no idea you guys were serious. I mean, I’ve seen you hanging out a bunch, but…”
Olivia ignores the comment. She smiles up at me.
Her eyes.
They kill me.
Smokey green, flecked with gray blue. All those lashes.
“Babe,” she says sweetly as she pats my chest once, “I got enough fruit salad for both of us. I’ll get you some of that pumpkin seed granola and yogurt, too, ‘kay?”
“Uh… great.” I clear my throat again.
Her lips are so full. So perfectly shaped. I’ve never held a conversation with her while this close to her.
Is it bad that my heart’s racing?
Why is it hard to talk? She bats her lashes up at me. “Would you grab me a coffee?”
“Uh—sure. Yeah. Yep.”
Her fingers drift up a little, so warm on my side. “Thanks, baby. I’ll get us a seat with Maggie and Trent.” I feel Danielle’s bewildered gaze pinned on us.
Maybe she’s thinking about all those times I asked her out. All told I’ve tried to get her to go out with me four times now.
Olivia finally addresses our audience. “I know it’s probably hard to keep track of us. Sometimes we’re friends, sometimes… this! It’s tough, how rocky it’s been. This time, though, we’re going to make it work. I go crazy missing him when we’re on the outs…”
Then she inches up. How’s she doing that—getting taller? Oh, she’s standing on her tiptoes.
I almost drop the empty plate still in my hands as her face draws nearer.
Good gracious. She’s going to kiss me.
Now I definitely can’t breathe.
If I could tell my senior-year self that one day, he’d be standing at a breakfast buffet with Oliviathisclose, I would.
I’d tell him how amazing it is, to see her eyes close up.
How sweet she smells, and how her lips are even more juicy looking when they’re mere inches away.
