Waking Olivia (17 page)

I look at him in wonder. They really didn’t tell him anything — Dorothy or Will. They let me keep all my secrets to myself. “You’re going to think I’m a freak.”

“Hey, I’m a registered sex offender. I’m no one to throw stones.”

My back stiffens. “You are?”

“Little known fact: streaking during pledge week is actually considered a sex crime. It was such a miscarriage of justice. I mean, look at me. Those girls were lucky to get an eyeful of this.”

I snort and he elbows me. “So tell me why my mom wants to adopt you and my brother is risking his job and sanity to have you over here.”

It’s the first time I’ve willingly told someone my story. It still humiliates me, but having brought my secret out in the light to Will and Dorothy makes it seems slightly less dark than it did before.

“That’s kind of awesome,” he says when I conclude. “You get your entire workout out of the way and you don’t even know you’ve done it.”

Calling it ‘awesome’ seems like a stretch, but it’s better than what he could have said.

“So you and my brother are sleeping under the same roof and you see him every morning and he’d rather spend time with you than his girlfriend, but
nothing’s
happening.”

“He’s my coach, Brendan,” I reply. “He’d get fired. And neither of us is interested anyway.” Okay, that’s sort of a lie. But based on the way he freaking ran from me tonight I suppose it’s true for one of us.

“You know,” Brendan says, scooting closer, “I heard his brother is super hot. And available.”

I smile. “I don’t think Will would be a fan of that idea.”

“Exactly,” says Brendan. “Maybe it would help him get his priorities straight.”

“No, it’s not that he likes me,” I explain. “It’s just that things are tense between you guys and that would make it worse.”

Brendan’s eyes seem to twinkle slightly less. “He used to be my best friend,” he says. “I still don’t know what the hell happened.”

S
aturday gets
off to a rollicking start.

First there’s my brother, who’s been sniffing around Olivia like a dog in heat since the minute she got out of my truck. Then I’m stuck on campus for hours because of visiting day, knowing that Brendan is probably going to be humping her leg the entire time I’m gone while I’m stuck here remembering last night, the way she pressed herself against me and my reaction. Christ, you could probably see my hard-on from
space
.

And lastly there’s Jessica, who got royally pissed off last night when I told her I was sleeping at my mom’s. “It’s ridiculous that you’re sleeping on the couch at your mother’s,” she argued. “Olivia should find a family of her own.”

Jessica, with her doting parents and her siblings and their annual ski trips and beach trips and group photos, telling me that the little we can offer Olivia is too much.

“Her only family member has Alzheimer’s, so where exactly do you suggest she go find one? Because I’m sure she’d be all ears.”

She exhaled in exasperation. “You know what I’m saying, Will. You don’t have to be the only person in her life. You’ve already gone above and beyond for this girl, but the charity has to end at some point.”

I stared at her then as if I’d never seen her before, except the truth was that I had seen it. All through high school I’d seen it, but somehow I’d allowed my father’s opinion to supersede my own. He saw her as a
nice
girl. She was a cheerleader, the homecoming queen, while I was the kid routinely handcuffed in the back of a police car. He must have suggested a hundred times that if I cleaned up my act, I could wind up with someone like her.

Of course, I’d
wound up
with her already, on the floor of someone’s bedroom during a party I don’t even remember, but I didn’t tell him that. I barely remembered the sex, to be honest, only the aftermath. She spent the next year suggesting I come over when her parents weren’t home, inviting me by myself to her parents’ lake house and then getting pissed off when I turned her down. But for years after, my dad would say, “Now that Jessica Harper.
That’s
a girl you settle down with.”

I’m not sure he’d stand by that statement if he could hear her right now. And maybe deferring to the opinion of someone who never really knew her doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

I
pick
Jessica up on the way back from campus. Honestly, I don’t want her at the farm and I really don’t want her around Olivia, but what choice do I have? If we go out tonight, I’m giving my asshole brother unfettered access to Olivia.
Not fucking happening
.

Jessica shouts from the bedroom that she’s almost ready, but then she peeks her head out. “Come sit in here,” she says suggestively. “We have plenty of time until dinner.”

I shake my head, avoiding her eye as I turn on the TV. “My mom asked me to hurry back.” It’s a lie, but right now the last thing in the world I want to do is sleep with Jessica.

She pouts. “Five minutes?”

“I’m gonna watch the game,” I say, without looking back at her.

Olivia is out when we get to the farm. Brendan, naturally, is sitting on the couch watching football, not a care in the world. In moments like this, when I think about the two jobs I’m working to keep him fed and in school, I understand my father’s anger toward me. He’d expected me to put the family first, begin to take on some of the weight, and like the selfish little prick I was, I looked at the farm and the trouble he had and couldn’t run fast enough.

Jessica goes to look for my mom so I sit in the chair across from him, and attempt civility. “So how’s school?”

He shrugs. “How’s having two girlfriends?”

“I don’t have two girlfriends,” I exhale testily.

“Sure you don’t, Saint Will,” he smirks. “I’ve never seen a guy check out a girl’s ass as often as you did hers last night, but yeah, nothing going on
there
at all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cool. Because if you’re not in those pants, I’d like to be, so I’m going to take my shot.”

I feel like I can’t breathe. The idea of him with Olivia is far too easy to imagine. They looked like a couple at the bar last night, and when he grabbed her ass, it was only Jessica’s presence that kept me from violently detaching his hand.

“I told you this already. She’s off limits.”

“I know what you said,” he laughs, “and I decided I don’t give a shit. Tell Mom I got busted. Get her all upset just for no reason other than the fact that you want to keep Olivia to yourself. You don’t get to decide who she goes out with.”

No, but I shouldn’t have to watch it when it happens. “She can do what she wants,” I reply. “But as long as I’m paying the bills, you can’t.”

“Congratulations, Will,” he says bitterly, rising to his feet. “You’ve turned into Dad.”

He’s right and at the moment I don’t fucking care. He’s got everything else—free to do what he wants, no responsibility for the farm. He doesn’t get Olivia too.

I
hate Jessica
.

I
thought
I hated Betsy, but it turns out my feelings toward her are something more like mild irritation compared with what I feel toward Will’s girlfriend. And the thing is, she isn’t doing anything wrong tonight, not on the surface anyway. But I hate her for sitting on Will’s lap before dinner. I hate the way she runs her thumb over his wrist and how he almost unconsciously wraps a hand around her waist. I hate that there’s something triumphant on her face when she does it, something directed at me though she’s not even looking my way.

When we hear Will laughing in the kitchen with Dorothy, Brendan rolls his eyes. “I guess he found his happy pills or something. He’s been a moody fucker all weekend,” he says.

Jessica winks at both of us. “He just had to work off a little steam earlier, if you know what I mean.”

Bitch
.

“Maybe I’ll start visiting him during the day at work.” She smiles at me. “You know, to take the edge off.”

That’s when I no longer merely hate her but decide I’d like to see her clinging to life. I want her just conscious enough to know it’s me pulling the plug.

I make it through the night with a great deal of jaw clenching and tight fists, and only begin to relax when they rise to leave. “Hey,” she says, pulling me aside when Will leaves the room, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about your brother.”

I nod. She isn’t the least bit sorry. How Will hasn’t seen through her crap is beyond me.

“So I hate to be the one telling you this,” she continues, “but the Langstroms really aren’t in a position to be helping anyone out right now. Things are tough for them and I’m just not sure they can handle the extra strain.”

“I haven’t been asking them for help.”

“No, you know what I mean, emotional help, stability,” she says. “They can’t be your substitute family right now. They’ve got enough of their own stuff to deal with. Dorothy and Will would never tell you that, of course, but it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

I hate every word out of her mouth, but I hate even more that she is probably right.

I
showed
up on the track Monday morning with a premonition that it would be a bad week and I was correct.

First there’s Olivia, who shows up each morning a little more stressed out and hollowed-eyed than I’ve seen her. With every success, her anxiety grows. The number of people who now expect her to win has increased exponentially, and there’s a world of difference between pleasantly surprising everyone with a success and people assuming it. I’m just not sure why it’s hitting her so much harder now.

Then there’s Betsy, who has a talent for finding anyone’s vulnerable spot and stabbing it with the sharpest thing within reach.

“You know,” she says to Olivia, “if you don’t take first next week, we won’t get into regionals.”

“Maybe if you were a little faster, it wouldn’t all be on my shoulders.” Olivia smirks, but there’s an echo of fear behind it. I was never a fan of Betsy’s, but now I loathe her and it’s a struggle to hide it.

As if that weren’t enough, the arrangements for the meet in Wyoming are a mess. The people I hired to help us bring in the corn and soybeans say they’re behind and I’ve got Jessica getting clingier by the day. She showed up on the
track
of all places, even after I specifically told her not to.

“What’s wrong with popping by to see my boyfriend in the morning?” she asks.

“We’ve discussed this,” I tell her. “I don’t like mixing my private life and my professional life.”

“That’s a little hard to believe, given how much time Olivia is spending at your mom’s house,” she retorts.

God, I wish she’d never met Olivia. She’s been off the rails ever since last week. “I don’t have a choice,” I sigh.

“There’s always a choice,” she replies.

O
n Wednesday
, Olivia arrives with dead legs and small cuts on her forearms. “You’re staying with my mom tonight,” I tell her.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re stressing out and I can’t afford for you to get injured or fatigued right before the meet.”

“I won’t run.”

“You know you can’t make that promise,” I reply. “I thought you liked staying with my mom?”

Something crosses her face, and for a minute she makes me think of the small girl she must have once been, vulnerable. “I’m not a charity case.”

“No one ever said you were.”

“I appreciate what you and your mom have done,” she says, “but I don’t need help.”

“If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for the rest of the team,” I tell her. I hate that I’m adding to the pressure she feels, but I hate even more the idea of her running through that neighborhood in the dark, and I don’t have it in me to spend night after night sleeping on her doorstep. “You’ve got us in line to win our first title. Think of what that would mean to everyone else.”

She finally agrees, looking so tired and overwhelmed that I wish I’d never brought it up. Sleeping on her steps is a far better alternative than the look on her face.

D
orothy seems
happy to see me that night, but what Jessica said remains foremost in my mind.

“You should just stay out here until the meet,” Dorothy says over dinner. “Get some rest and some good food?”

That’s nice of you,” I say tentatively, “but I’ve got plans.”

“What kind of plans?”

I shrug, wishing I could avoid this conversation. “I’ve sort of got a date.” It was stupid and impulsive, but it pissed me off so much when Jessica showed up on the track this week that I finally told Evan I’d go out with him, something I know I’m going to regret.

Will’s head shoots up. “A date?” he demands. “With who?”

“You don’t know him,” I sigh. “He’s on the swim team. His name is Evan.”

“Evan? You mean Evan Rainier? He’s the captain of the team. Why the fuck wouldn’t I know who he is?”

“Will,” his mother scolds.

“Sorry,” he mutters, but his jaw remains tight.

“What’s your problem?” I ask. “Is he a serial killer or something?”

“No, I just … What exactly do you mean when you say that it’s ‘sort of’ a date?”

I sigh. “Because I’m not interested in dating anyone. I told him that, but he asked me just to give it a shot.”

“Awww,” gushes Dorothy. “He sounds like a really nice guy, Olivia.”

“He is,” I reply. Evan is very nice. The problem is I seem to have a preference for not-so-nice, which sits right in front of me at this very moment, his shoulders rigid.

“Too nice?” Will asks, recalling our previous conversation. He wants to know if I’m going to sleep with Evan, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him guilt me into saying I won’t.

“No, he’s definitely not
too
nice.”

He stands, letting his fork land on his plate a little harder than it should. “So you don’t even like this guy and you’re going to sleep with him?”

Dorothy gasps in shock and begins to scold him, but I’m already off and running.

“Why the hell shouldn’t I, Will? You sleep with Jessica and you don’t like her! Why shouldn’t I do the same?”

He looks like he’s been slapped. “Jessica is my girlfriend. Of course I like her.”

“Bullshit. I am calling bullshit on that in the biggest way. Every time you see her car here, your face falls. Every time she speaks, you wince. Not only do you not
like
her, I think a part of you actively
dis
likes her. I actually enjoy Evan’s company. He’s fun to hang out with, he’s fun to talk to. Can you honestly say either of those things about Jessica? And before you answer, you should take a look at how much time you spend avoiding her and ask yourself why.”

The kitchen is uncomfortably silent when my speech is over, and I think we’re all a little shocked by it. Will turns and walks out of the house. Dorothy looks stunned more than angry, but I’m not sure. I just drove her son out of the house, after all.

“I’m sorry.”

She looks at me, her face drawn. For the first time since I’ve known her, she actually looks her age. “Don’t be,” she says, “I think he needed to hear it.”

But if that’s actually true, I’m not sure why she looks so unhappy about it.

W
ill still isn’t home
when I go to bed, which makes me think I’ve really taken things too far. He’s always been so worried about me running in the woods and now he’s not? Have I pushed him so far that he’s given up?

It takes me a long time to fall asleep, waiting for the sound of the front door to open. I know I’m going to run tonight, and for the first time in my life, it’s not about a meet or my brother or something that happened a long time ago.

It’s about a boy.

.