Chapter 20
Twenty
Olivia
I don’t say anything as Hayden walks away.
I just stand there for a moment, the weight of the car keys in my hand are heavier than they should be.
I glance down at them, then up at Hayden’s back as he disappears into his car like I mean nothing.
Like what happened in my dorm last night didn’t happen.
Like I’m just another chore on his list, and he checked it off.
I force myself to turn around and thank Blake for fixing my car even though my throat feels like it’s closing up. “Thank you,” I say, managing the words with a tight smile.
“No problem,” his voice as cold as Hayden is to me. I have a feeling everyone in Hayden’s life is cold.
The way they were talking about fighting, and Mason fighting with a baseball bat, is this who he is now? A fighter? During the time I’ve been away, I don’t think there's any part of the Hayden I knew left in him.
I knew he was in a fight last night when I saw the bruises on him. I just didn’t think he went somewhere to fight.
I give Blake a nod and slide into the driver’s seat. The engine hums to life, smooth now, responsive. My car might be fixed, but I’m so far away from being fixed I can feel myself breaking more and more, the more I see him.
I grip the steering wheel and breathe, trying to calm the unease churning in my chest. It doesn’t help, the more I see Hayden the harder it’s becoming to breathe. The whole way back to campus, my head is a fog of questions.
Will he ever forgive me?
Can we ever be friends again?
What could have happened between us?
I hate myself for even daring to hope we can become something.
But a small corner in my heart, the tiny corner, lives in hope.
The hope of Hayden and me together, the hope of Hayden touching me in ways I’ve dreamt of for years.
The hope that one day he looks at me and sees past the betrayal, past the silence, past the pain.
Ands sees the girl who used to sit beside him in the treehouse, laughing at nothing, dreaming about college, about us, about forever.
I pull into the lot by the dorms, the sun is beginning to dip behind the rooftops, bleeding warm orange into a blue-grey sky. It’s beautiful, and even the beauty of the day isn’t making me feel any better.
I drag myself out of the car and make my way up the stairs and down the hall. My key fumbles in the door, my fingers trembling like I’d been out in the cold, but it’s not. My body is betraying me, itching for Hayden.
I drop my keys on the desk and sit on the edge of my bed.
This is supposed to be different. My college days were meant to be different.
It was meant to be with Hayden, doing everything together.
A place to build memories, with the boy I fell in love with, before I even knew what love was.
Making memories with the boy who made me believe in everything I read in my books, I wanted him to touch me the way the male character would touch his love interest. I wanted Hayden to be the one to make me scream his name, but now I cry with the dream of it.
The tears come and I try to wipe them away, but they keep coming. Sobbing into my hands, I curl up in my bed, my knees pulled to my chest so I can make myself small, and invisible.
“I want him back in my life,” I whisper to myself, but I ruined it, and no matter how many times I say sorry, no matter how much I hurt for what I did, sorry will never be enough. Never.
Maybe a day will come when he finds out the truth, and things will change, but until I know my mom is safe, and better, I can’t risk it. So, in the meantime all I can do is love Hayden Crawford from afar.
The sunlight filters through the kitchen window, gentle, golden and warm.
I stir a spoon through my coffee, watching the swirls disappear into the dark, bitter surface.
I promised dad I would come over for breakfast, and even though the trailer isn't big enough to move around openly, I’ve missed being home with them.
Across from me, Mom sits with a bright smile stretched across her face, one of those smiles that doesn’t quite reach her eyes anymore. But she tries. God, she tries.
Her hair’s thinner. Her cheeks are a little sunken.
The scarf wrapped around her head is neatly tied in her favorite shade of blue, and she’s wearing the sweater I bought her last winter, the one she said made her feel almost normal.
She picks at a piece of toast, her fingers shaking just a little, but she keeps her posture straight, like she’s determined not to let anyone see her weakness.
It’s only dad and myself here, we’ve seen her at her lowest, so I’m not sure who she’s putting this act on for.
“You’re not eating,” she says, nodding toward my untouched plate.
“I will,” I lie. “Just waiting for it to cool.”
Dad glances up from the corner of the table, still in his uniform, his coffee long gone.
He’s pretending to read the newspaper, but I know he’s watching her just as closely as I am.
Always assessing. Always worried. But never saying it out loud.
She fell last night, dad said she wanted to use the bathroom, and didn’t want to wake him up, but she was too weak to hold her weight up and she fell over.
“How are you feeling today?” I ask gently.
Mom waves a hand like it’s nothing. “Like I could run a marathon.”
“Right,” I smirk, playing along. I know she likes to joke about it, she always said I can sit and cry about it, or I can fight it. She’s fighting, so she'll try to make a funny comment to lighten the mood for everyone.
“Well, maybe not a full marathon, but I could definitely outwalk you two down the driveway.”
“Lies,” Dad mutters behind his paper, and we all laugh, a soft, real laugh that fills the tiny trailer.
Her hand trembles as she brings the toast to her mouth, and the ache in my chest deepens. I smile through it, because she is. She’s still smiling. And if she can be brave enough to smile while her body fights her from the inside out, then I can be brave enough to sit here and match it.
Still, I hate this part of the morning, the part where the sun makes everything look okay when it’s not. The part where my mom jokes about marathons when walking to the bathroom sometimes makes her cry. The part where I have to pretend I’m okay when I’m not.
“Work today?” she asks.
“Yes, Mr. Cain gave me a double shift. The afternoon to set up, and the night behind the bar.”
“You’re working too much, Olivia.” My mom shakes her head before continuing. “You need to be studying.”
“I’m fine and I'm studying. Plus, I like working.” I finally start eating before she can start saying I look weak because I’m not eating.
“Is Hayden back? Have you spoken to him, let him know your back?” My mom asks, and I glance up at my dad, and he continues to read his paper.
“No, but I’ve been so busy with work and studying I don’t see anyone.” I have no idea what to say to her, I can’t tell her the truth she'd hate me and dad for doing it. Mostly dad because he’s the one who agreed to it.
“You need a day off, go over and see his parents, you know they will give you his number over there.” I can’t even look at my mom at the moment.
If there's one thing I’m sure of, it's that his parents will kill me if they see me. No welcoming me with open arms, more of a slam of the door and before that it'll be words of hate and nothing else.
And just like Hayden, I wouldn’t blame them for any of it.
“Once I speak with him, you'll be the first to know. Promise.” I sip on my coffee, and thankful my mom doesn't say anything, and I lean back, eyes locked with my dad.
We both know we can’t keep the secret for long, sooner or later she is going to find out the truth, and neither one of us knows how to explain it to her.
They always say the past will come for you, because you can only run for so long. Maybe I don’t have any more paths to run on, and the truth will be coming out before I’m ready for it.
I sit in the parking lot, looking at the piece of paper which was on my windscreen.
Don’t worry I’ll look after you. For a moment I thought it was Hayden, but then I laughed.
Now he’s been the only one helping me, but why would he leave me a note?
There is no reason for it. Folding the paper up, I throw it on the passenger seat and get ready for my shift.
It’s going to be a busy night, Friday and Saturday nights are crazy, but I'm not going to complain about it. I need the money, because mom’s treatments are getting more intense and there's no way she can miss any. So, if I have to work through the night on no sleep that’s what I’ll do.
Walking into the quiet club, which is too quiet for a place which will be bursting at the seams with laughter, music, and chaos in just a few hours. It’s that eerie calm before the storm, a storm I love to be part of.
There is something about working at Skyline which makes you feel like you’re in a different world. The people are here to have fun, enjoy themselves, and I love it.
I heard one of the girls who works here, saying she was serving on the sixth floor next week.
I have no idea what the sixth floor is, nor the fifth floor, I’ve never asked.
I’m here to work and make money, not to ask questions about things I don’t need to know about.
When Mr. Cain offered me the job he told me I would only be working on the first and second floor, that was good with me.
The third floor is for private parties I know that, and the fourth floor is his office, but the fifth and sixth I have no idea, but now I kind of want to know because she got excited about serving up there.
I wonder if it pays more, because if it does I don’t care what's there, I’ll take the job if it’s only to serve the drinks.
So, I’m not sure why I can’t be up there, I laughed at myself and thought it would be a VIP sex club, but threw that idea out, because if it was, I’m sure I would have heard about it by now.
I tug the apron around my waist and begin wiping down the bar, the smell of lemon-scented cleaner already familiar in my nose. There are members of the staff getting the tables ready, and I turn to Josie and smile.
“Well at least my shift is with you,” Josie jokes, as she wraps an arm around my shoulder. “For a newbie, I love that you can keep up with me.”
“Works always better when you like the people around you.” She raises her brows at me.
“And who do you not like? You tell me, I’ll tell you a few I don’t like.” I have to laugh because I think we all know the ones she doesn’t like.
“I don’t even know everyone who works here. I only know the ones who work behind the bar.” I continue lining the liquor bottles along the back shelf, I glance up at the mirror across the bar.
Since coming back here, and seeing Hayden I’ve been crying myself to sleep, just like I did years ago. Now I’m crying because I miss him. I feel his lips on mine even now.
I lean on the counter, exhaling, letting my head dip for a second, just thinking about Hayden kissing me again.
“You okay?” Josie asks.
“Yeah, school was long this week.” I smile and she starts nodding.
“Glad I’m out of college. So, you have a boyfriend yet?” She starts wiping the counter. “You must have one, you’re gorgeous.”
“No, no boyfriend.” I walk away to the other side of the bar to clean up, not wanting her to ask any more questions, I have a feeling she’s good at reading people. One more question from her, I’m sure she'll be able to find out everything between me and Hayden.
I look over my shoulder when I hear a voice coming closer and I smile at Lincoln and Mr. Cain.
“Olivia, two whiskeys.” Lincoln asks, and I give him a nod. Getting their drinks ready, I hear them talking about a meeting with the boys tonight. “When is he doing it?” Lincoln asks.
“Here you go.” I place their drinks down, and Mr. Cain watches me for a moment. The man is intense. “Would you like anything else?” I ask because he’s staring at me a little longer, and he smiles, and shakes his head and continues talking to Lincoln as they walk away.
He really is a man of few words, which makes me wonder if he has a woman in his life? Since I’ve worked here, I’ve not really seen much of him, he’s not out of the office, and I’ve never seen any woman around him, but if anyone's going to know it's Josie.
“Mr. Cain, is he married?” I ask her, and she looks at him and Lincoln walking up the stairs to his office.
“No, his girlfriend, though, is the complete opposite to him, she’s talkative, smiley, colorful,” she stops and starts laughing.
“And you can see Mr. Cain is none of them, but one thing he is, and I can say it because I’ve worked here long enough.
Mr. Cain looks after his staff.” She walks away when another staff member calls for her, and I get back to getting ready for a busy night.
Hoping it’s busy enough that I don’t have a second to think about Hayden, and his lips on mine.