Astor Hill

Chapter 18

18

Olivia

I knew this night was a disaster waiting to happen. I chose to wear a metallic, deep espresso gown as opposed to the slinky ensemble Will so thoughtfully (read: lazily) picked out for me, knowing that wearing the red dress he purchased would send him some sort of signal that things were going to be fine between us. That this so-called ‘break’ was really just temporary, but the feelings that rushed through me the moment I stepped out of his car implied anything but.

For the first time since Lily’s death, I feel like I finally have the space to take a step back and really look at my life— my feelings— without the burden of how those feelings are going to make Will feel. It felt like the first step to getting back to the person I’m meant to be, instead of orbiting a man who I thought was protecting me from the grief that’s built up inside me since my best friend's death, but was maybe just hindering me from moving past it.

I allow myself to move through the lobby of the state room, a bar and lounge area to the left and a coat check to the right. I decided to forgo a coat for this event, not wanting to hide my gown, but I feel a chill climb up my spine like an omen. I instantly regret it. I’m met with the cutting stare of Gen’s deep hazel eyes at the bar. If she wasn’t such a bitch I would admit that they were striking, maybe even beautiful, but she is, so I’ll equate her eyes to that of the walking dead— intense, but utterly soulless. She’s standing at the bar alone in the gown she’s sporting, pitch black as if any light within her doesn’t exist, the skirt flowing across the floor in a pool around her feet. It’s not completely hideous; it was clearly meant to one-up what she chose for me. I shudder at the thought of her and Will holding what was essentially lingerie, laughing at me.

“Will won’t be pleased seeing you in that. He spent countless hours with me, trying to find a dress that would really suit you,” she says down her nose, the insult not reaching her eyes. Her tone seems… sad actually. I feel a pang deep down in the bottom of my stomach as I see her eyes move back to the olive at the end of her toothpick. She pulls it out, picking up the martini and downing it.

“Speaking of, I assume you know where my estranged boyfriend is?” I say, rolling my eyes and ignoring whatever bizarre sympathetic reaction my body is having toward Gen. I scan the bar, my plan tonight one of avoidance. I’m hoping to avoid any sort of public confrontation, if at all possible. I don’t need Will to incessantly bring up that we are on a break in every conversation, and I definitely don’t need him insinuating that it’s temporary until I’ve fully made up my mind. The only reason I’m even mentioning it to Gen is because I know she is likely well aware of all things Will, as per usual.

“I don’t know how you did it,” she says sloppily, wiping her hand over her upper lip. She looks up at me, her eyes even more severe as tears bloom at the corners, making the hazel almost kaleidoscopic with the gold and brown tones melting into green. Her dark pinned up tendrils fall loose around her face. “How you didn’t have more self respect all these years.” Her sad tone turns into a drunken giggle, as if my lack of ‘self respect’ is the funniest thing in the world to her.

I feel my face turn pink as I squint my eyes, confused as to what is going on here.

“Bartender, please cut her off. This woman has had enough to drink,” I fake yell to the bartender a good 20 feet away, but Gen’s the only one who hears me and the comment makes her laugh harder. A few of the older patrons surrounding us turn toward the gorgeous ballerina, seemingly completely off her rocker. Her laughs begin to settle and she puts her hand into her face, her shoulders shaking and it’s hard to tell if she’s still laughing or beginning to cry.

“Gen… are you alright?” I say quietly, real concern taking over my face.

Gen pushes up abruptly, causing her to wobble slightly before sitting back down. Her face has transformed in mere seconds to the venomous one I’ve grown accustomed to. She pulls out a hundred dollar bill slamming it on the counter with dramatic effect, making her drunken state even more obvious as the martini was likely only thirteen dollars.

“Olivia, let’s be honest,” she slurs as she slowly angles her body toward mine. “If I needed someone’s pity it certainly wouldn’t be yours. Do you want to know where your “boyfriend” is?” Her hushed voice is filled with rage as she uses air quotes with the word boyfriend. “Maybe ask the slut who went into the coat check with him,” she says, tears running down her face.

She uses the back of her hand again, smearing her black charcoal mascara across her cheek. Just as she turns to leave, we both see Will duck out of the coat check, straightening his tie and mussing his hair. A few seconds later a petite busty girl with jet black hair walks out behind him, her white mini dress barely covering her.

With her back turned to me Gen whispers under her breath, “I feel sorry for you.” Her posture seems to wilt as she gazes at the scene before us and I quickly realize that mine doesn’t change at all.

My eyes trail Will and the small raven-haired girl speed walking to keep up with him.

Gen’s body sinks back down on the barstool closest to me and I ask the bartender for two shots of tequila. He eyes me suspiciously.

“We don’t really do shots at this sort of thing…” his voice trails.

I set down two one hundred dollar bills, finally understanding the level of Gen’s desperation for a drink. “Two shots, coming up!”

I suck in my cheeks observing Gen, her head hung low as she uses a tissue and compact to try and salvage her makeup, even though tears are still streaming down her face. That should be me, I think to myself. I observe the crease of her brow, how the hand holding the tissue is shaking as her breathing remains unsteady, clearly trying to hold back the emotions building up inside her. I look down at my legs sheathed in the reflective fabric of my gown. Biting my lip, I realize how numb I feel. Sure, I’m surprised that Will would so publicly disrespect me, but mostly because it will affect his reputation, something Will is very cognizant of.

“You must be in shock,” Gen sniffs beside me, handing me a tissue only to see that I’m not crying when she meets my eyes.

“I actually think I’m fine, weirdly enough,” I sigh. “Are you okay though, Gen?” she squints at me as if she can’t comprehend my emotionless response.

“Am I okay?” she emphasizes the I as if to say ‘you’re the one who has a cheating boyfriend’.

I sigh, offering her a sad laugh. “I’m sure this wasn’t your desired outcome, if Will and I were to end things…”

She bites her lip considering what I’m saying. “Why did you stay with him?” she asks, staring into the bar, trying to school her own emotions. I roll my lips together thinking about this. Will was a lot of things but a consistently good boyfriend wasn’t one of them. Memories of the past few years filter through my memory, especially the months after Lily’s death and how Will somehow brought me back to life. Though now, I’m realizing, there are cracks, pieces of myself I haven’t completely mended or dealt with because he shielded me from them. So, maybe that’s why I stayed with him for so long; I wasn’t ready to thoroughly heal. I didn’t think I deserved to.

I look at Gen for what feels like the first time and I really see her. She’s undoubtedly beautiful. Tall and lean from hours upon hours spent at her dance studio, her arms are slender and muscular. Her skin is a creamy brown without a single imperfection and her dark tendrils frame her face that radiantly glows. I never noticed before. She’s probably one of the most stunning people I’ve ever seen and she is in love with Will, so devoted to him in a way I never have been.

It begs the question: why did he never want to be with her , this nearly perfect girl sitting before me? It reminds me of my dad anytime I’d bring up all the ways I was jealous of Lily.

“You won’t be happy until you're happy with yourself,” he’d say.

I think that sentiment holds true for Will. It’s almost like he was using me too, a shield from all the small cracks he didn’t want to face and I realize I don’t blame him for it.

I look at Gen again and she meets my eyes, that question dancing between both of us unanswered. Why did you stay with him ?

“We both stayed with him, Gen.”

Her eyes go sad again but she motions to the bartender, taking out two more hundreds. “Another round?”

Now sufficiently buzzed, my drunken brain has convinced myself that I can continue evading Will as long as I spend the rest of my night getting hammered at this gala. Gen left shortly after the second shot, claiming she had to “meet someone.” I was glad for her departure.

Despite the chaotic heart to heart we just had, there’s still this resentful tension between us, but it’s something to work out at a later date.

I stand and the world fuzzes around me. After gulping down four tequila shots I’m more drunk than I originally intended, and my four-inch stilettos seem like maybe not the best choice. The bartender eyes me and hands me a glass of water, my flirtatious smile lighting him up as he watches me chug the contents of the cup. Thankfully the water steadies me, but I know those shots are going to get me in trouble tonight.

As I move away from the bar I hear someone behind me rather loudly say, “Well look at this intergalactic princess.” I turn and am met with a blue buzzed head and a blindingly handsome smile. Ian.

“Thank god!” I yelp and pull him into a hug.

He pulls back immediately suspicious. “My, my, Olivia. You’re drunk.”

“Not drunk… a little drunk.” I swat his arm.

“I’m assuming you saw Will and the gnat that’s been following him around all evening.” With his arm around me he guides me into the ballroom. Grand chandeliers glitter across the vast ceiling, an ornate balcony houses a second bar that looks down on the checkerboard dance floor, and on the grand staircase a harpist plays a melody that can’t be heard over the DJ. What a waste.

“I wasn’t the only one who saw. Gen was… upset to say the least.”

Ian smiled at this. “Oh yeah, we saw old raccoon eyes when we arrived.”

That foreign feeling of guilt toward Gen pangs inside my stomach.

“So, my little protege, what will you do with this knowledge?” I swallow, the question sobering me up slightly. It was times like this I yearned for Lily or just female companionship in general. Ian was great but everything with him was plotting or scheming. He had a zero tolerance policy when it came to conversations about feelings.

“Well— we are on a break?—”

“Excuse me? When were you going to tell me this?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“When I was ready for the entire world to know, meaning when I knew the ‘break’ wouldn’t be a temporary thing.” I give him a pointed stare.

“Right, yeah, running a gossip paper tends to make one a bit of a ‘blabber mouth.’” He rolls his eyes. “I’m assuming then, since you’re now telling me, that you’ve made that decision.”

“No comment,” I say drunkenly, batting my lashes at him as he playfully shoves me.

Ian kisses my cheek as he says his goodbyes, saying he has a lead on a story he has to run down. I watch him trot up the stairs past the harpist and just as my gaze shifts, I feel him watching me.

My entire body heats as my eyes move up his torso, his perfectly tailored suit making my drunkenness hit me like a wave as my stomach does a complete one eighty. Ben would have that effect on any girl who's four shots deep , I tell myself. I pivot my eyes to the dance floor and pretend I’m looking for someone, trying to get a handle on my face burning with heat. I swallow as my gaze shifts back to him, a shy smile plastered across his handsome face. Either he caught me looking or he’s genuinely happy to see me. My breath catches and comes out in a rough gasp. Realizing more than likely too late that I’m utterly giving my attraction away, I begin moving toward him.

I round the final stair on the grand staircase and take him in. His hair is mussed the way it was when we studied, like he just dried it with a towel out of the bath. His suit is expertly tailored, highlighting his broad frame in a way that makes it apparent he commands not only the basketball team but any space he walks into. I suck in a breath, mustering up my confidence.

“Well, don’t you look nice,” I say, making a point to run my eyes down his body.

He smiles, a blush blooming across his face. “You look nice too, Olivia.” He looks down at his shoes, trying to avoid my gaze.

I sigh, annoyed he’s not giving me the reaction I’m craving. “Let’s try this again, Ben,” I say with false, booze filled bravado. “Well, don’t you look handsome.”

He lifts his eyes, meeting mine, his so dark I feel like they're sucking me into them. I have no choice but to lower my own and am met again with his immaculate body, my tequila infused brain having no problem allowing my eyes to make their way down it a second time. I catch the corner of his mouth twitching, attempting to reign in his smile as he observes me.

He ducks his head, his minty breath against my ear sending an involuntary shiver down my back.

“I like your dress.”

I feel the red creeping up my chest, his hand lightly grazing my hip. All of the lights seem to twinkle a little brighter, the music a little more finely tuned. I glance around, trying to bring myself back to reality. While I am not planning for this break to be a temporary thing with Will, I’m also not looking to completely embarrass him. Besides, Ben isn’t flirting with me, is he? I’m drunk and he’s just being polite. But that feeling of his hand grazing my hip. I shake my head, trying to snap myself out of this trance.

The harpist I saw earlier begins playing a soft melody that I instantly recognize. It takes me back to my etiquette school days, the balls Lily and I attended, and the boys who seemed to flock to her as I navigated my awkward middle school body.

“Livy, you have to dance with us,” Lily shouts as Colin Hemmes, the most sought after boy in the grade above us begins pulling Lily toward the dance floor. “I hear Jeffrey really likes you— ask him! You two would be so cute together!” she yelps as she finally lets Colin pull her in for a slow dance. My eyes drift to Jeffrey, a shy boy with pretty terrible acne who hasn’t quite grown out of his baby fat. I would look cute with him? He’s at least two feet shorter than me. I look down at my gangly long legs and my feet that seem clownish compared to the petite feet of my friends.

My heart sinks as I watch Colin’s golden blonde hair fall into his eyes as he looks longingly at my best friend, her silken hair almost glowing in the lights around her. My vision blurs at the realization that they look cute together, perfect even.

I begin to feel hot with embarrassment at the memory and feel exposed underneath Ben’s handsome gaze. I subconsciously wrap my arms around myself now embarrassed that I so openly flirted with Ben. I just sort of blew up my life and not necessarily for Ben but still, this nagging feeling inside me knows that he was definitely a factor. I never considered the possibility that he could reject me, but those old insecurities that Lily would bring out still plague me. When they come up mid conversation, it’s hard to shake the feeling that I’m still that awkward teenager with the beautiful best friend.

“Hey… you okay?” Ben asks, pulling back to look down at me, concern flashing across his gaze as he notices my body language has changed. I clear my voice, trying to shake the drunken memory I somehow landed in.

“Should we dance?” I say motioning toward the dance floor at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes track the ballroom and I know he’s basing his decision on the whereabouts of his brother. “It’s worth noting that Will and I broke up.” I try to keep my tone neutral although there is a twinge of desperation in my voice that even I’m not used to.

Ben instantly freezes. “What?” It’s barely audible and I can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment that he isn’t jumping for joy, but of course he isn’t. Will is his brother. What did I think, that we’d end things and Ben would want to just pick up in his place? Clearly his loyalty lies with Will. I feel nervous beads of sweat forming along my hairline. “When?” His voice is a whisper his face a picture of shock.

“Well, technically we are on a ‘break’ but— I don’t know there’s a lot going on.” I blurt out, wishing I hadn’t said anything in the first place.

“Oliv—” he starts but I cut him off.

“Look I know this situation is complicated and I completely get it if you don’t want to be seen with me but—” He stops me short, wrapping his long arms around me in an embrace. His face nuzzles into my hair inhaling my scent. The hug is comfort incarnate, all warmth and safety as if no one can see me outside the walls of his arms.

He slowly releases me and I feel completely and utterly vulnerable. “You okay?” he asks softly.

“I just want to not think about all of it. I just want to have one good night before I have to deal with it. Can we just dance?” Drunkenness fuels my desperation as I grasp Ben’s hand. For a moment he stares into my eyes and I can no longer tell if I feel unsteady because of the alcohol or his gaze.

“Of course I’ll dance with you, Liv.” It comes out quietly, gingerly, almost a whisper but not quite. His face is innocent and shy and perfect. I instantly forget the optics of what this looks like, or maybe I just don’t care.

I pull Ben toward the dance floor just as they start to play a slow song. He raises an eyebrow at me as if to say he’s game if I am . I softly put my hand on his shoulder to reassure him as he draws me in at the waist. I rest my head on his chest and we sway and listen to the sound of each other breathing. He somehow smells like all of my favorite things, his body warm and firm, allowing me to melt into him. The song ends and another begins but we lose the rhythm.

He feels like my childhood home, a lit candle in a freshly clean kitchen, a hot cup of tea with just a little milk and sugar. The world fades and I realize I never felt like this with Will, like the entire world was moved off its axis when we were together, like us being together happened by some miracle and now all the pieces of myself seem to fit together more perfectly. I don’t feel the need to tuck parts of myself away, hide them from his view. I close my eyes and let the smell of him, the closeness of him, seep into me.

A song with a quicker tempo comes on and pulls us out of our trance.

“We should get a drink,” I suggest.

Realistically, I shouldn’t get plastered at the biggest event of the academic year but something about Ben makes me feel safe, like I can let loose and everything will be fine. A smile pulls on the corner of his lips.

“What?” I blurt a blush rising to my cheeks. Maybe he thinks I’ve gone insane. Maybe he doesn’t want to waste his whole night with me.

“I like you like this.”

My blush deepens. Is he making fun of me? “Like what?” I say a bit defiantly.

“A bit unraveled. Uncensored.” Ben’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he looks down at me.

“So is that a yes to the drink?” I say, rolling my lips together to hide my own smile. He makes a face like he’s considering and then grabs my hand, leading me to the bar. I laugh, a real laugh, not a snarky one or a flirtatious one— a real, full laugh.

Ben is grinning when we get to the bar, his gaze mulling over me like a warm blanket. “I love that sound.”

I smile, and he orders us a round of shots. I realize the bartenders don’t give him nearly the hard time they gave me. He hands me my shot and holds his up in a toast.

“To one good night,” he says, his face like a child with a secret.

“To one good night.”