4. Olive
4
OLIVE
A bell rang as I opened the door to The Grove Bookstore and slipped inside. My heart pounded as I closed the door behind me, desperately hoping I hadn’t been followed.
This was absurd. I was acting as if an ax murderer was chasing me when it was only the overly friendly townspeople. Four people had stopped me on the short walk from the pharmacy where I’d picked up my monthly prescription to the entrance of the bookstore. I’d been too overwhelmed to remember most of their names, but they had stopped me to say hello, give me unsolicited advice about what flowers I should plant in my window boxes, and press a small container containing Arepa Dulce—a type of Dominican cake—into my hand. That last one was from a woman named Marisol, who owned the market. I’d slipped it into my tote bag. I wasn’t about to turn down dessert.
Everyone seemed excited to have someone new in town, but I was waiting for them to get bored of me when they realized I was the least interesting person to ever walk the planet.
Most people would love this kind of small-town charm, but I hated that I couldn’t move around anonymously. Social situations didn’t come easily to me, unlike my dad who had been one of the most outgoing men I’d ever known. He’d been right at home when we’d visited Starlight Grove six years ago for a rare off-season vacation. Sometimes, I wondered if he would have been happier to live in a town like this instead of spending most of his days on the boat. But he had grown up on the water, expected to take over the family lobster business, and then he’d fallen in love with a painfully shy beta who was at home on the sea, away from the bustle of coastal towns.
When I’d seen the lighthouse keeper position posted online, I’d felt a little tug of something inside me. My mom would have said it was the call of the universe, but I wasn’t so sure. I’d spent the years since my parents passed feeling lost, and there was something alluring to the idea of returning to a place I’d been happy with them… like maybe I would find some of the happiness we’d had.
I wandered through the cramped bookstore aisles, careful to avoid tipping over the precarious stacks of books and wondering if I should have looked for a more remote lighthouse position. One where supplies needed to be specially shipped in and I wouldn’t be bombarded by overly friendly townspeople.
Then, I would be totally alone.
A tall man appeared in front of me and I shrieked. My breaths were ragged and I clutched my chest before realizing it was Hank, the elderly bookstore owner I’d seen around town.
“Oh, hello,” I said weakly.
He lifted his chin at me, a faint scent of old books wafting in my direction. “You’re the new girl.”
His voice was gruff. Grumpy.
I nodded.
“Name’s Hank. I own this store.”
“Yes,” I said.
I groaned internally. This was why I hated talking to strangers. Everything inside me froze up, preventing me from forming a complete sentence.
When I said nothing further, he asked, “Are you here to buy or just take up space?”
My throat tightened and all I could do was blink. Why was I like this? Why couldn’t I just say yes, I want a book ?
“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered. “My hip says a storm is coming.”
I glanced down at his cane. His hip was right. The forecast was calling for bad weather.
I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself enough to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. My cheeks grew even redder until I couldn’t handle it anymore. I spun on my heel and booked it for the front door. It was fine. It didn’t matter that my e-reader had broken and all I had at my cottage was a stack of nautical books left by the former lighthouse keeper. It didn’t matter that my favorite author had just released a new book. All that mattered right now was getting home.
The wind whipped my hair as I emerged back onto the street, another sign that the storm was fast approaching. My hands shook as I fumbled with my bike chain that had popped off again. My eyes burned with tears and that, more than anything, told me an episode was starting. Darkness plucked at the edges of my soul, ominous and exhausting. Maybe if I just ignored it, it would go away.
“Olive!” A bright voice called my name just as I got the chain back on its track. My heart pounded as I looked over my shoulder. A smiling blonde woman who looked to be close to my age was sprinting towards me, her pale green dress rippling in the wind. “I can’t believe I ran into you! I’ve been dying to meet you!”
I pushed up from my crouched position.
“I’m Lucy,” she said, panting heavily as she came to a stop in front of me. A wave of her bright spring floral scent washed over me, telling me she was an omega.
“Hi,” I mumbled.
“Whew, I need to do more cardio. I hate that I haven’t introduced myself before now. I’m the head of the Starlight Grove Welcoming Committee! I stopped by your house a couple of weeks ago, but you must not have been home.”
Or I’d heard the knocking on my door, panicked, and hid in my nest.
I was so pathetic .
“Oh, yeah. Sometimes I’m up in the lighthouse and can’t hear,” I said.
Lucy’s smile never faltered. “Of course! I think it’s so cool we have an omega lighthouse keeper. We all loved Fredrik and Carina and were devastated when they passed, but I’m so happy such an amazing person has taken their place.”
My brow furrowed. She didn’t even know me. Why would she say I was amazing?
“Do you have a minute?” she continued. “I’d love to buy you a coffee and welcome you to Starlight Grove.”
“Well…”
I trailed off, and Lucy seemed to take my non-answer as a yes. She looped her arm with mine and set off for the coffee shop across the street. She effortlessly carried the conversation, telling me about the history of the town and all the gossip about the shop owners, not seeming to mind or even notice how stilted my answers were.
“What would you like? My treat,” Lucy asked once we were at the front of the line.
What I really wanted was a pumpkin spice latte, but I hated when people made comments about my scent, so I typically just got plain coffee. Although, I was wearing a new industrial-strength deodorant. The name had made me roll my eyes— No-NonScent Deodorant— but it seemed to be doing its job. It had better, since it cost double the generic drugstore one I usually bought.
“Just a regular coffee,” I mumbled.
“Are you sure? The pumpkin spice lattes here are incredible. I dream about them. I’ve tried everything to get them out of season, but they refuse.” She fixed the cute beta barista with a glare, but the girl just grinned back. “Just try it,” Lucy said. “If you hate it, you can have your coffee.” Her tone made it clear that plain coffee was a travesty.
Thanks, Lucy, that’s really kind of you. You’re right, coffee tastes like dirt and I hate it. But “Um, sure,” was all I could say in response.
We found an empty table in the corner and sat down with our lattes. I took a sip and in that moment, my life changed. I swear to god, I perfumed a bit .
“I told you,” Lucy said, triumphant. “Best thing you’ve ever tasted, right? I’ve tried to recreate the recipe at home, but nothing ever gets close.”
“It’s really good,” I said, hiding my smile behind another sip.
“You have to meet my friends Ivy and Summer. They’re omegas, too. We all grew up here and sort of knew each other, but weren’t in the same grades. But we all made our way back here as adults and are besties now. And, as an omega, you’re officially a part of our group now. We just need a great group name.”
I blinked. Lucy wanted me to be part of her friend group? When all I’d given her was blank stares and a dozen choked out words?
“Oh, and my brother, Lars, lives on Main Street,” Lucy said, looking out the window as if he would materialize out of thin air. “He’s thirty-one and single.” She turned back to me with a twinkle in her eye. “If you’re into alphas.”
An image of Easton’s face floated in front of me until I blinked it away. I made a noncommittal noise.
“I get it,” Lucy said with a sigh. “Most of the time, they’re more trouble than they’re worth. But Lars is a good guy. Even though he always stole the last piece of cake growing up.”
Just then, the coffee shop door flew open and Marisol walked in. “It’s getting chilly out there,” she said, unwinding her neon green scarf. “My knee’s been acting up all day.”
“Oh, that means a storm must be coming,” Lucy said, giving me a conspiratorial look.
Marisol waved at Lucy and made a beeline for us. “Lucy, doll, I was hoping I would run into you. Have you seen Felix? I barely see him around these days and I’m getting worried.”
Lucy frowned. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t. But we have a town meeting coming up.”
“That’s right,” Marisol said. “I’ll have to give him a good talking-to after the meeting. He can’t just vanish like this and think we won’t worry about him.”
I had no idea who Felix was, but right now I was more focused on getting home than asking questions. I wanted to enjoy this time with Lucy. The idea of having friends was tantalizing. But even sitting here, in this cute cafe, surrounded by cheerful people, I could feel it coming on—the edge of darkness looming over my mood, trying to sink its tendrils inside me.
I took a big gulp of my latte. “I should probably get going if it’s going to rain.”
Lucy’s face fell, and her disappointment looked so genuine. “Of course. I’m sure you want to get back before the rain starts. Let’s set up a better time to hang out! And the welcome committee still needs to bring your basket.”
I smiled and nodded as I said goodbye to Lucy and Marisol, my expression plastic. By the time I got to my bike, the rain had started, pelting my face and chilling my skin on the ride back to the lighthouse.
My depression rolled in with the storm clouds, and I quickly headed inside, pulled all the curtains, and dragged my favorite blankets into my nest. I would head up to the lighthouse watch room in a bit to monitor the storm. Just as soon as I worked up the energy.
A pit of loneliness swallowed me up like a gaping hole in my chest as I prepared to spend the next few days in darkness. My mom used to sit with me during my dark days, braiding my hair and telling me stories of mermaids. But she was gone, and I could never ask anyone else to be with me when I was like this. Could never bring them down into this despair with me. The fantasy of forming a pack with someone like Easton, or even going on a date with him, was just that: a fantasy.
I scrubbed a tear from my cheek and closed my eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around me.