Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sally
Oliver Moore wasn’t always a flirt or criminally handsome. I didn’t think much of romance when I was ten. I certainly didn’t feel my breath hitch when looking at his pudgy face.
The first time I met Oliver was after my parents had started arguing. It felt like my parents were constantly in competition to see who could yell the loudest, who could make the most noise, and, most of all, who got the last laugh. Though, no one really laughed here.
That night’s argument had revolved around forgetting to pick up a loaf of bread. So, instead of getting a meal that night, I was subjected to listening to them yell at each other. Another day of barely eating.
I was crying against my bed, trying to drown out my parents’ voices. That was when a light knock sounded in my room. I looked up, and Oliver was right there, crouching down outside of the screen doors separating my room from the outside. He mouthed, “Are you okay?”
Without thinking, I walked over to the door and opened it up.
“Hi, I’m Oliver,” he greeted me lightly with an enthusiastic smile. “What’s your name?”
I didn’t like my name, so I ignored his question. “How did you get here?”
He frowned but answered, “I was wandering around, and I didn’t know anyone lived here, and my pops always says I’m a curious cat, so I walked up and saw you crying. I don’t like it when people cry. Makes me want to cry.”
“My parents are fighting again,” I said.
He simply nodded. “My parents used to do that.” He looked around the house for a second. “Do you have a way up to the roof?”
I didn’t really know what to say, but I trusted him and nodded as we both walked around the back to the porch, where there was a small stepladder my dad used. We climbed onto the roof and walked to the center.
Oliver plopped down and patted the spot next to him, and I sat down.
“Do your parents fight often?” he asked.
“Almost every night,” I whispered.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a little gray CD player with matching headphones.
The boy inched closer to me. I could feel his breath on my cheek as he reached around my tucked-in body and placed one of the headphones in my right ear.
A second later, music came through my ear, and his cheek pressed to mine with the left one placed in his ear.
“Can you still hear them fighting?” I’d never been this close to anyone, but it made me feel safe.
I shook my head.
“Good. Because when you are up here, you’re above them. You’re above all of your problems. Actually, I think I like your roof better than mine. Better view.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder.
“Well, how about whenever our parents are being bad, we escape up here? Block out the world with me?”
Then, for the first time that night, I smiled a true, toothy smile, and he gave me the most beautiful, sheepish grin.
“By the way, you never told me your name.”
“What do you mean he winked at you?” Mimi squeaked, taking the seat next to me on the couch.
“That’s what you focus on?” Ella huffs out a breath. “You’re just glossing over the fact that he’s the same Oliver she wouldn’t stop talking about.”
“I didn’t talk about him that much.” I narrow my eyes at Ella.
Ella meets my eyes, and I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
“It’s like fate,” Mimi says dreamily.
This causes Ella to roll her eyes once again. I swear that’s her favorite move, especially if she doesn’t want to talk.
“Are you meeting him again? He told you he gives surf lessons.” Mimi might be more excited about this than I am.
I want to see Oliver again—I really do—but when I think about facing him and telling him who I am, the image of his disappointment looms in my head. I don’t want that smile or the heat in his eyes to disappear.
Will he regret inviting me over?
I know I don’t need to tell him I’m trans yet. I can wait until I’m ready for that. But I don’t like lying about who I am.
“Are you going to say anything?” Ella reads my mind.
“I haven’t decided.”
“I hope by now I’ve beaten this into your skull, but you don’t owe anyone info on your identity,” Ella says for the millionth time since I’ve known her.
“I know, I know,” I groan, hanging my head. “I just don’t like lying to him, and seeing him again brought back every single emotion I had before I left.”
“What if you go on your date today and then decide how you feel?” Leon enters the room, drying his wet hair from showering.
“It’s not a date,” I correct him.
“You literally said he winked at you. That’s called flirting, so it’s pretty much a date.” Leon sticks his tongue out.
“This is so romantic!” Mimi cries out happily. “Just like a story from one of my books.”
“Never mind.” I get up off the couch. “What are you guys doing today?”
“I was planning on going to one of the local cafes. Casey said Shoreline Cafe has free Wi-Fi as long as you buy something,” Mimi grabs her bag and the book she was mindlessly thumbing through on the drive here.
“Since we won’t have Wi-Fi until tomorrow, I need to work on some writing drafts for next year.
My creative writing professor won’t let me skip submitting something to the English department journal. ”
I nod, then turn toward Leon as he says, “Jaxon said he’d teach me how to ride his motorcycle.”
Ella snaps her head, narrowing her eyes at our little brother. “I doubt he has a motorcycle. It’s probably an electric bike.”
“Whatever it is, I’m gonna learn how to ride it.” The lightness in his voice causes my nerves to spark.
Leon needed this trip to get away from his cheating ex-boyfriend. I bet he’s trying to throw himself into something to forget.
Ella feels it, too. “I guess I’ll join him then. Make sure he doesn’t kill our little bro.”
Without even thinking, I am already on my way to the closest beach around here. He sent me the location last night. It is not our little cove from childhood, and that kind of warms my heart.
It doesn’t take long for me to arrive at the beach and hear the sound of early morning waves crashing against the shore, a little wind sweeping over the sand. I don’t know the first thing about surfing, but now my eyes fill with the sight of Oliver in an unbearably tight wetsuit.
My throat bobs and suddenly I have cotton mouth.
He’s in the water, helping a little boy stand on the top of the surfboard. There are three other kids standing in front of him, listening to every word like he’s their savior. Stand in line, kids. Once upon a time, he was mine.
I can’t take my eyes off him.
“Is Oliver your boyfriend?” A middle-aged mom walks up beside me. She wears a tight-lipped smile, but her eyes show tiredness. She must be one of the kids’ mothers.
“Oh no, he just invited me to watch,” I say.
Her expression changes slightly before turning to the kids still in the water. “You’d be the first then.” If she’s tired, the warmth in her voice doesn’t indicate it anymore. “He wants the kids to have as much privacy as possible to learn at their own pace.”
“They all look happy. Money well spent.”
“Oh, honey, he doesn’t charge. I always offer, even with what little we have. I feel bad.” Her voice softens, “But he always says, ‘Why charge to do what I love?’”
She looks at me with a warm smile. I feel the urge to say something, but the lesson must have finished as a boy runs up to us. “Mom! I got to stand on the board today. It was scary but so cool!”
“I’m so proud of you.” She hugs him and kisses his cheek as he tries to pull away from her. “You better grab your boyfriend before another girl snatches him up.”
I don’t think she realizes what her comment does to me as she walks away, hand in hand, with her bouncing boy.
In broad daylight, she assumed I was a girl. I still have a full face of makeup on, but this might have been the first time someone assumed correctly.
Am I the talk of the town now?
“Yo, Sally!” I hear a voice calling out to me from the water.
Oliver, in all his wetsuit glory, is smiling at me.
He drags a hand through his lake-soaked hair and walks farther onto the shore.
Not fully; his feet are still submerged.
“Come into the water. I can show you some basics about lake surfing.”
I shake my head. “Sorry, can’t swim.”
He raises a brow at me but grins nevertheless. “We gotta fix that, then.”
“No, thank you,” I say, feeling the presence of my tuck more than usual.
He purses his lips, walking out of the water to stand fully on land. The water drips off his lean, muscular body as he pulls the suit from his skin. His wet hair still sticks to his face. The mess of brown frames his face almost perfectly.
“So, you like the water but can’t swim?”
“Nope.”
Before I can even process his presence, Oliver is standing in front of me. He’s only a few inches taller than me. I’ve always cursed my height. Other than the basketball guys, I was always the same height or even taller than most guys at my school.
Other than Dalton.
The thought of him causes a bone-chilling shiver to run up my spine.
Not the same kind Oliver caused last night.
I tilt my head up to meet Oliver’s gaze, and once again, I feel that warm tingle.
He’s staring at me with an expression I don’t understand.
It feels like he’s trying to study my every feature.
I back away subconsciously to avoid him looking directly at my face.
He reaches forward, softly taking my wrist into his hand to stop me. A second later, he twirls my body around and pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me off the sand.
“A little water won’t kill you!” he cheers.
“Oliver!” I cry out. “I’m not wearing a swimsuit. I don’t want to get my hair wet.” My stomach rages with nerves as we inch closer to the water. I can’t go in the water. It will ruin my makeup and make my clothes cling to uncomfortable spots—the space between my boobs and the tuck under my skirt.
I thrust my elbow hard into his side, causing a groan of pain to leave his mouth, and he drops me. I recover quickly, but Oliver is on his knees, holding his side.
“Oliver, I’m so—”
“Damn, you have a mean elbow. Okay, okay, no water.” He holds his hands up in defeat as a wave comes in, brushing the cold water over my feet.
“You can’t do that to a girl—especially when she does her hair and makeup.”
“Sorry, sorry. I should have known better.” His face glances up, eyeing me intently.
He’s studying me again.
I want to hide away, but his intense green gaze turns warm as he grins. “Let me make it up to you before I have work. Want to get slushies at the pier?”