My Only (24 page)

I was left with no choice but to leave. It was where I wanted to be, but I was worried about Aaron. I tugged on my coat on the way down the steps.

Olivia was inside her car. It was running. The exhaust hung low in the heavy winter air. It was cold out, but I didn’t feel it. That bright smile I loved was waiting for me as I threw myself into the passenger seat.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“God, it’s hot in here.”

Olivia looked up at the ceiling and laughed. “Wel , you know my grandma. She made my grandpa come out here a half hour ago and start it for me. Heaven forbid I be too cold.”

Her grandma was a bit of a freak when it came to stuff like that. I didn’t understand why she would send Mr. Cartwright out in the cold to keep Olivia from being a bit chil y. I wondered if it had to do with the mystery il ness that sometimes took her out of school. “What’s up with that?” I asked.

She didn’t reply. Olivia just shrugged and put the car in gear. “So hit me with it,” she said.

Knowing what she wanted, I didn’t hesitate. “Okay, Fun Fact: horses can’t vomit.”

“I already knew that.”

I shifted in my seat so my body was angled toward her. “So?”

“So you can’t use it. Give me another one.”

Crap. I only Googled one. “What? That’s not fair.”

She shrugged. “That’s how you play the game.”

“Where are the rules? I demand to see the rulebook,” I said in a tone that resembled an outraged customer who wanted to speak to the manager.

Olivia laughed. “I’d show them to you, but it’d just waste time. Since you trust me completely, you know I’m tel ing you the truth. Next fun fact, please.”

I loved her carefree voice.

“Um,” I said as I struggled to think of something. Then something popped into my head. “Okay. Drumming burns almost three hundred calories every half hour.”

She was focused on the road, but I saw her expression shift. She liked my fact. “No wonder you’re so skinny,” she said.

Her hand moved toward me. She stil wasn’t looking at me, but she pinched my abdomen. Or she
tried
to pinch it. I was thin, like she said, so there wasn’t anything to grab hold of. My heart raced at the contact. Without thinking about it, I grabbed her gloved hand and held it within my own.

I watched her face closely, looking for signs that this wasn’t acceptable. If she wasn’t okay with it, I would let go. But there was nothing indicating she felt like that. For a moment, her lips pressed together, then released. Her tongue darted out to wet them as she took a deep breath. Then Olivia said, “And the Word of the Day?”

I wasn’t sure I’d be able to speak. The excitement created a deep tickle in the pit of my stomach. My breath was a bit ragged. I hoped she didn’t notice, but I almost didn’t care. I was holding her hand!

Clearing my throat, I started. “The Word of the Day is ‘auscultation’. It means to listen to the sounds of the body with a stethoscope.”

“Good one,” she said in a soft voice.

I didn’t ask her for her Fun Fact or Word of the Day. I liked playing the game, but I needed to quietly absorb the moment. I was holding her hand, and she was letting me.

By the time we got to the mal , my breathing had regulated and my heartbeat had returned to normal. I reluctantly gave her back her hand so she could put the car in park and kil the engine.

As she unbuckled her seat belt, she turned to me. I stared into her deep eyes. They were so knowing. Like they housed an old soul.

No words passed between us, but something else did. It was indescribable. It was something emotional. Something raw. Something real.

Something I’d never felt before.

Again, Olivia warmed me, making every bit of me feel ful of life.

As the end of March approached, the weather broke. It wasn’t exactly an early spring, but as soon as I woke up in the morning, I could tel that it wasn’t the dead of winter anymore. I’d never given much thought to the seasons. Some people could say which one they liked the best, and which one they liked the least. But not me. I’d never real y cared much.

Until now.

Now that the deep cold was receding and the snow had stopped, I found myself waking up with happiness fluttering in my chest at the thought of the little budded flowers that would soon be making an appearance. I supposed I’d always found this time of year pretty, but this year it meant something more to me. The spring reminded me of Olivia. She was always so ful of life—like the new flowers pushing out of the frigid ground. She brought warmth—like the springtime sun.

I couldn’t wait to do things I’d never wanted to do before—like take a hike in the woods. The temperature would be increasing, and Mrs.

Cartwright would have no reason to keep us from something like that. Soon we’d be going to Chicago and watching Violet Plume together.

But even without nature hikes and concerts, the simple things I had with her now made me the happiest I’d ever been. Holding hands was so energizing. I never made a production of it when we were in school. I was very careful not to treat her like Aaron had—like something to show off to increase my social standing.

It was something quite natural. We didn’t discuss if we were
going out
or
dating
. I just knew we were. Olivia never sat anywhere else besides my table at lunch, and we walked through the hal s of Lakeside High with our hands clasped together. The first time was the only time I felt insecure. I hadn’t known if she’d wanted everyone to see, so I’d gently took her hand in mine as we got out of her car and headed into school. Once inside, she took her hand away. It felt like a quick jab to the gut. I’d thought she didn’t want to hold my hand in front of other people. But then she shrugged off her coat and took my hand back. The pain in my gut turned to butterflies as she confidently walked to her locker, then to mine.

Today was Sunday and neither of us had to work. Aaron was out with his friends and my dad was sleeping. He’d taken a few extra shifts this week and was even more tired than usual. Essential y, Olivia and I had the house to ourselves. We’d started out in my bedroom, just hanging out and quietly tapping on the bongos and conga, but then moved downstairs. I flipped on the television. There was almost nothing on. I didn’t want to get engrossed into a show—I just wanted background noise.

Final y, I settled on a music channel that played old concerts. After just a moment, Olivia began to dance. I felt so stuck for words because in my mind, I just kept thinking:
beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
. Her movements weren’t anything crazy. There was no regular teenage gyration like the girls from the dance line at school. Olivia’s body was a curving line that constantly moved. She was like a tal blade of grass being blown around lightly by a soft breeze.

When the current song ended and switched to something even slower, she came over to me. Reaching down, she took my hands and pul ed me up. “Dance,” she said.

“But I don’t—” I stopped when she placed a finger over my lips. I wanted to kiss that finger. So I did.

It earned me a smirk, but then she took the finger away. “You
can
dance. Just move.” I stood there. Pressure was weighing down on me to do something. I wanted to sit back down. I wanted to tel her that I enjoyed watching her and didn’t want to mess her up by showing what a horrible dancer I was.

But I didn’t. Then she let go of my hands and grabbed my hips. I took a raspy breath. Our eyes met. “It’s just me, Adam,” she whispered.

Olivia sort of pushed one of my hips back, while pul ing the other forward. Something released inside of my head and the pressure I’d felt just moments ago was gone. I let her manipulate me into a jerky dance. It didn’t last long because once I accepted that I was going to do it, my body moved on its own. It felt awkward, but the look she gave me was wel worth it.

Halfway through, she leaned into me, pressing against me. I imagined this would be what it was like to go to a school dance with her. Our bodies pressed together. There would be other couples al around us, but we’d only be concerned with each other. I would never take my focus off of her. I slid my hands around, palms flat against the concave curve of the smal of her back. Her head was against my chest. I was sure she could hear the pounding of my heart. Her smal hands were on my back, her fingers rubbing little circles over my shirt.

The awkwardness gave way to a sense of calm. Her body was made to fit into mine like this. I could stay wrapped around her forever, and silently hoped that I would.

We danced like that until the end of the song when Olivia pul ed back a little, but did not leave my arms. She looked up at me and I gazed down on her. When it proved too intense, I focused my eyes on her heart-shaped lips instead. The thought of kissing them bubbled out of my brain and down to every single cel in my body. The vibrations of anticipation al owed the thought to rise up and out of my mouth.

I didn’t just go for it. That would’ve been what Aaron would’ve done. Instead, I said. “You’re vegan.” Olivia laughed. It wasn’t what I’d meant to say. “Yep.”

I took a deep breath and tried to calm my flip-flopping bel y. “Does that mean you wouldn’t want to kiss a carnivore?” Her silence felt like it stole my breath. I was going to die of embarrassed asphyxiation. What a stupid thing for me to ask!

Olivia licked her lips. “It depends on the carnivore.”

It was stupid of me to ask that. I’d already kissed her—twice—and she’d obviously done more than kiss my—

My thought was taken from me when I felt her lips on mine. It was quick. I kept my eyes open. When the connection was broken, she lowered herself back down and said, “You’re an omnivore.”

She licked her lips again. I was mesmerized by the action. My lips tingled from the sensation of the kiss. My whole body felt on edge. It felt like it did each time the marching band took the field and played. I was breathing heavy. I knew she could tel .

Olivia pul ed back a little more and placed a flat hand in the center of my chest. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

I could do nothing but let out a stunted chuckle and al owed my lips to curve up. I was going to be honest with her. I trusted her enough to tel her the truth. Olivia wouldn’t hurt me with it. “I’m wondering how to make that happen again. How to make it happen al the time.” Her fingers twisted into my shirt as she lifted up onto her toes. The last thing I saw was her tongue darting out to wet her grinning lips before she once again kissed me. It lasted longer, and was deeper than before. I was hunched over a bit to help the process. My hands were on her hips.

When the kiss didn’t end quickly, I closed my eyes and just
felt
it. Instead of just our lips pressed together, something soft and warm moved against my bottom lip—from right to left. I took in a breath. Maybe it was more of a gasp. I thought for a second that I should’ve breathed in from my nose, but I was happy I’d done it the other way. Olivia took the opportunity to deepen the kiss even more. Her tongue touched mine.

I had no idea how long the kiss lasted, but I knew it was fantastic. It only ended because I heard a noise coming from behind me. I pul ed back and craned my neck. In the kitchen, my dad was grabbing a coffee cup out of the cupboard. He wasn’t looking in our direction, but I knew that he’d seen us.

I looked back down at Olivia. There was a laugh twinkling in her eyes like she thought it was funny we’d been caught. She released my shirt as she moved out of my gentle hold. She squeezed my fingers as she walked toward the kitchen. “Hi, Mr. James.” We were no longer touching each other, but I could stil feel the zing of her skin against mine as I watched her take the step up out of the living room and into the kitchen. Final y, my feet moved and I fol owed her.

“Olivia,” my father said, acknowledging her with a nod. “How are you?”

“Wonderful,” she replied. “You?”

Dad looked from her to me. I gazed at my feet and when I looked back up, he was looking at Olivia again. “Good, thank you. Staying for dinner?” Olivia shook her head. “No. Not tonight. Grandma’s making vegan lasagna for the first time, so . . .” She tilted her head toward the front of the house and let her voice trail off.

Turning to face me, her eyes were wide. She thought it was funny that we’d been kissing like that and my dad had walked in. She was something else. I gave her a hard look, but couldn’t keep it when she stuck her tongue out at me.

“I’ve gotta go,” she said, taking a few steps toward me. Again, she rose up on her toes and placed a light kiss on my lips.

“Bye,” I managed to mumble as she backed away. I should’ve gone to the door with her, but I was frozen.

Once I heard the front door close, I looked up at my dad. He said nothing, but his eyes were on me. Very slowly, a smal , subtle smile curved one side of his mouth. I shoved my hands in my pockets as I blushed. I wished I knew what to say. It was the first time he’d seen me with a girl—
kissing
a girl. Risking a glance up, I took in his expression once more, and realized he was proud.

The day of the Violet Plume concert was fast approaching. Dad didn’t question me at al when I asked if I could spend the day in Chicago. It seemed like he was so happy that I had a “girlfriend,” that he didn’t want to break the magical spel of my newly found social life by requiring too much from me. When Aaron found out about my trip, he said nothing, but I knew it bothered him.