My Only (17 page)

“I don’t real y think I’m better than other people, you know,” she said.

“I know.”

A tightness in my chest was my indication that this would be a great moment to ask her to the dance. I couldn’t keep chickening out. Maybe she wanted to go with me, but I hadn’t asked her yet. I swal owed hard, my stomach suddenly in knots. I couldn’t back down though. I
had
to ask her.

“So, Livie, there’s a dance coming up and I—”

“I know!” she interrupted me. “Your brother asked me.”

It was like a punch in the gut. My stomach was not in knots anymore. It was currently in shut-down mode as it absorbed the blow of information. I felt like I was breathing hard and like my face was burnt red. I had to say something. I had to make up ground. I couldn’t continue to look like an idiot in front of her.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, slow and stunted. “I guess he found his nerve, then. He, uh, wanted me to ask you if you might, you know be interested,” I was lying, but I couldn’t help it, “in him.”

“Yeah, he’s real y nice. Yesterday he came by the mal and since you weren’t my grub buddy, we ate lunch and talked. He’s real y interesting.”
He
was interesting?
Aaron
was interesting? Aaron was a walking high school cliché.
I
was the interesting one.
I
was the nice one.
I
was the smart one. Those were
my
attributes. My knee started bouncing up and down. I wanted to hit something. Sure, it had taken me a while, but I was going to ask her out! And he’d snaked the opportunity from me!

“Adam? Are you okay?”

Again, I swal owed down my anger. I didn’t want to be that guy. At least not in front of Olivia. “I’m fine,” I said. I tried to lighten up but now that the anger was gone, the only thing left was depression.

“Are you mad at me for going with Aaron or something?”

I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. “No. I just . . . I just don’t feel wel .”

“No?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think we should go home. I feel like I should lie down or something.”

If the drive to the bookstore was tense, the drive home was awkward. I could think of nothing to say and Olivia didn’t offer anything either. Final y, as we pul ed up to the curb in front of her house, she said, “I hope you feel better.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” It was the only thing I could say as I got out of the car. I just wanted to be alone in my room. I moved as quickly as I could to my house. The momentary relief I felt at being inside my house was squashed when I heard Aaron’s voice upstairs. I could hear my dad tinkering around in the kitchen, so I knew my brother was on the phone.

I could tel by the volume of his voice that Aaron wasn’t in his room. He was probably leaning against the banister at the top of the stairs. I would have to pass him in order to get to my room. I didn’t think I could do that without punching him. Punching him would lead to him punching me back. In a fight with my twin, I knew I would lose.

Reluctantly, I went into the kitchen and stood at the end of the island watching my dad cook. If I’d been in a better mood, I would have offered to help or just jumped in and done it. But I was stuck in a strange quicksand of emotions—a mixture of anger, disappointment, frustration, and depression.

When he noticed I was there, he tried to talk to me, but my mood didn’t al ow for anything other than monosyl abic responses. After fifteen minutes, I left. I wanted to be by myself, and I was wil ing to risk passing Aaron to achieve that.

My brother wasn’t in the hal way as I went upstairs, but I could make out his words as he continued his phone conversation in his bedroom. He was talking about Olivia. He was talking about the dance. He was talking about al of the things
I
wanted to be talking about.

I slammed my bedroom door behind me, I flopped down onto my bed, and pul ed the covers up around me until I was nothing more than a lump.

Sometime later, my father cal ed me downstairs. I slumped in my chair at the table, refusing to talk to Aaron. I could tel by my dad’s expression and the way he was constantly looking between us that he was trying to figure out what was wrong. Aaron was so happy and I was so . . . not.

When his plate was almost finished, Aaron announced, “I asked Olivia to the dance.” I kept my eyes focused on the barely touched food on my plate.

“Did you?” my father said.

“Yeah. Of course, she said yes.”

My brother’s confidence and smug tone only served to strengthen the pul of the emotional quicksand. I was sinking faster now. More words were exchanged, but I purposely didn’t listen. “Adam? Adam.”

I looked up at him.

“Are you okay?”

My dad’s face made it perfectly clear. He knew what had just happened. He knew that I liked Olivia. He knew that Aaron had basical y stolen my opportunity.

But he said nothing about it. Instead, he just asked me how I was. What did he think? How was I supposed to be? This was just another in a long line of successes for Aaron and failures for me.

“Adam?”

Usual y I would help clean up, but I didn’t have enough wil or drive to even try to do what I usual y did. It didn’t matter anyway. No matter what, Aaron got the girl and I got nothing.

“I’m fine,” I final y said before turning and leaving the room.

I could hear my dad as I approached the stairs. “You know he likes her,” Dad said to Aaron.

My brother made a noise that sounded like “pppfffttt.” Then he said, “I backed off for weeks! How long was I supposed to wait?”

“Aaron.” My dad’s voice sounded like a warning.

“I like her, too, and if he’s going to pussy out at everything, why shouldn’t I—?” I couldn’t listen to any more of this and climbed the stairs, shut my door, and buried myself beneath the warmth of my blankets and pil ows. I wanted to stay buried forever. I doubted many people would miss me. I wanted to disappear into my bed until the whole world had changed.

But it was Sunday. No matter what I wanted, I knew that I would have to emerge tomorrow.

I slept uneasily. For the first time I actual y knew what my brother went through with his insomnia. I tossed and turned for most of the night. I final y dropped off around two thirty. My alarm woke me at the regular time, but I turned it off. If Aaron was dependent upon me to wake him up today, he would be late for school.

I wasn’t going.

I’d decided on that somewhere between one thirty and two fifteen in the morning. No one real y cared about perfect attendance anyway. It wasn’t because I was too tired. I’d been tired before. I just didn’t want to have to spend al day looking at Olivia and Aaron. I was sure they’d look like an instant couple. He always had a way of making it seem like new girlfriends had been on his arm for ages.

I was able to get back to sleep much easier this time but then pounding on the door woke me up again. The sun was brighter and my clock told me that it was after eight.

“What?” I grumbled loudly.

The door flew open. Aaron stood there in his pajamas, eyes bugging out. He looked panicked. I almost enjoyed it. Behind him was my dad.

“You never woke me up!” Aaron said in a rush. “We’re late.”

I blinked at him then lowered myself down onto the bed. “You think?”

Dad’s face showed his concern. He pursed his lips. “What’s wrong, Adam?”

“I don’t feel wel .”
Obviously
.

“You’re staying home?” Aaron asked in surprise.

I rol ed over and pul ed the covers up over my head, closing my eyes. I figured my actions were enough of an answer for them.

Waking up after one in the afternoon, I got up, went to the bathroom, and then went back to bed. I didn’t sleep. I just lay there on my back, thinking about how much everything in my life sucked. My dad slept most of the day and didn’t get up until after four. He checked on me once, but I refused to talk.

My door opened again just after five. “Thank you, Mr. James.”

“Ugh,” I said roughly. It was quiet, so Olivia couldn’t hear it. I didn’t want her over.

But here she was.

She walked to my desk and sat down, placing a blue container on top. I looked toward the window. “I made you soup.” I could smel it. Could she be any more perfect? Beautiful, kind, and a maker of soups? I had to stop thinking like that about her. She wasn’t perfect. She was going out with my brother.

“Wel , I didn’t real y make it. My grandma did. It’s vegetable noodle, though.”

I turned my eyes to the ceiling.

“I’m sorry you’re sick.”

I didn’t say anything. I could hear her drumming her fingers against my desk. The rhythm was soothing. Not wanting to be soothed, I tried to ignore it.

“Can’t you talk or anything? What is it? Laryngitis?”

“I can talk,” I answered quickly.

“Good.” I heard the kindness in her voice.

I draped my arm over my eyes.

“Adam, what’s wrong? Why won’t you look at me?

This whole situation was messed up. I didn’t want to deal with it. I didn’t want to keep being the same person I always was, or be a pushover who never expressed his feelings when he needed to.

Sitting up straight and folding my legs, I leveled my eyes at her. “I’m not sick.” God, she looked at me in confusion, and my heart beat faster.

“What? Then why weren’t you in school?”

I shrugged my answer, but inside I knew this couldn’t continue. I took a deep breath. “Because I didn’t want to see you and Aaron.” Olivia was quiet for a moment. “See me and Aaron?”

It was stupid of me to say anything. “Never mind.”

She scooted the chair closer to the bed and touched her hand to my knee. The confused look gave way to something akin to understanding, but not quite. “You
are
upset that I’m going to the dance with him.”

I wanted to say,
“Duh,”
but I kept it in. No need to seem even more immature than what I was. My only response was to look away.

“So you’re mad I’m going on a date with your brother. Is it because you don’t think I’m good enough for him, or the other way around?” The question pissed me off. Like she didn’t know! Like I hadn’t been giving her stupid moon-eyes since she got here. “Of course you’re good enough for him. You’re
too
good for him.”

“Oh.”

I looked at her now. She was leaning back in the chair, her arms folded over her torso. Her expression was the same, as if she had an inkling what this was real y about, but no real clue. How could she
not
know? This was ridiculous. I was being like Casey. I needed to just man up and tel her. “I like you, Livie! Why do you think I spent al that time with you?”

Olivia’s eyes opened wide. She blinked rapidly and then sat up straight. When she final y spoke, her words were slow in coming. “Because you’re my friend?” She paused, then said, “So you weren’t
really
my friend? You were just some guy that wanted to go out with me? That’s good to know.”

What? She was making it sound like I was trying to manipulate her or the situation. The way she said it made me sound sleazy.

Olivia rol ed her eyes as she stood up. “Whatever,” she mumbled.

“Wait! It wasn’t like that.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared at me through narrowed eyes. “What was it like, then?” I felt like I was sweating and felt a bit nauseous, but I had to make her understand. “I’m not a guy who wants to date you. I’m your
friend
who wants to date you. But now you’re dating my brother.” At that, she looked away, but I could tel that the fire that had ignited within her when she thought I was using her had gone. “I mean, I get it. I do,” I said, my voice revealing the depths of my sadness. “Aaron’s a footbal player. He’s good-looking. He’s fun. And I’m not.”

She turned back to face me, she flicked her eyes around my face, as if trying to figure out a riddle. Just as it seemed she was about to say something, I said, “I know why you said yes. I
understand
. But it stil hurts.”

“Adam,” she said, sounding like she was about to ooze pity out of every pore.

I stopped her because I doubted whether I could take it. “I know I’m being a baby, but I kind of just want to be alone.” Olivia’s whole body seemed to sag, but she nodded and turned to go. “Okay.” When she got to the door, she turned back and said, “I’m sorry.” She looked toward my drums for a moment and then turned back to me. “That you hurt,” she said.

I swal owed hard against the lump in my throat and returned. “I
am
your friend, Liv.” I should’ve said more, but I didn’t. Instead, I watched her turn once more and leave my room.

I wanted to get up and watch her cross the street, but I couldn’t. Instead, I flopped back down on the bed and drew the covers up.

I lay there for another few minutes, my mind was racing. Obviously, I was an idiot because I wrongly believed that she was, or could be, interested in me in the first place. It wasn’t like I had any female friends. I couldn’t compare what girl friends acted like with what
girlfriends
acted like. Olivia hadn’t done anything to indicate that she liked me as more, so what a doof I had been for thinking that I could have had a shot with her.