13. Practice
Chapter thirteen
Practice
T he quiet of the house envelops me as I wander, a sense of purpose driving my steps. The desire to contribute, to somehow repay the kindness and acceptance I’ve received from the residents, nudges me to find a way to help. Yet, as I pace through the pristine rooms, it becomes evident that the house is in impeccable condition. How often, I wonder, do they dedicate themselves to maintaining such cleanliness?
Lost in these thoughts, I’m startled by a sudden voice behind me. “Hey.”
I let out a scream, not expecting anyone to be home. “Don’t do that!” I exclaim, turning to face Oliver.
He smirks, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Seriously, you’re too easy.”
Embarrassed and slightly annoyed, I reply, “Sorry, I thought I was alone in the house.”
“And you thought you’d just wander up and down the living room and kitchen until something popped up?” he teases.
Feeling a little foolish, I confess, “I just wanted to do something nice, like clean something, but everything’s clean. I don’t really know how I can help out. But I feel like I need to do something.”
Oliver’s expression softens, and he suggests, “Well, it might not be for everyone, but I still need assistance being a bit more interactive.” The reminder of his unique situation nudges me back to reality.
“Okay, so where did you want to do this?” I ask, ready to offer my help.
“Let’s go back upstairs. It’s the only place the ghost won’t go.” His comment, delivered so matter-of-factly, leaves me momentarily wondering if he’s joking. But in this house, where the extraordinary is the norm, I realize he’s probably quite serious.
In Oliver’s dimly lit room, the air is thick with an unspoken tension. He suggests, “Let’s stand this time,” breaking the silence. I nod in agreement, a seriousness settling over his features. “At some point, I’m meant to carry you on the stage, which means close body contact." The idea sends a shiver down my spine. I can only imagine how this proximity might affect him, given his unique nature.
“What did you want me to do?” I ask, hoping for a simple task.
“I’m not sure. Maybe we could start with something less direct, like touching backs,” Oliver proposes, seemingly cautious. “I’m stronger than I appear, and I’d rather you have the ability to escape if necessary.”
His words, meant to be reassuring, only heighten my awareness of the delicate situation. “Turn around,” I instruct, trying to mask my own apprehension. He turns, presenting his back to me. Mimicking his action, I turn my back to him and brace myself. “Lean back when you’re ready,” I prompt. After a moment, I feel the faint pressure of his back against mine. It’s a curious sensation, one that’s both alien and oddly comforting. “What are you thinking about?” I ask, hoping to distract him.
“A strawberry isn’t actually a berry, but a banana is,” he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice.
I laugh, breaking the tension. “Where do you pick up all this stuff?”
“I spend a lot of time alone in the house. The Internet is a good companion,” he says, a note of melancholy creeping into his tone. Our conversation drifts, ranging from the trivial to the bizarre, each fact he shares painting a picture of his solitary life. At one point, my heart rate quickens unexpectedly, prompting Oliver to inquire, “What just happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your heart beats a certain rhythm when you feel fear. It changes to that same rhythm most of the time when you see me. But it just changed, accelerated, skipped I think.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just thinking about other things.”
He pauses, considering. “I’m okay with this, back-to-back. Do you want to try facing each other?”
In Oliver’s room, the tension from our back-to-back exercise still lingers as I muster the courage to say, “I can handle it if you can.”
“That almost sounds like a challenge,” he retorts, a playful edge in his voice.
“I’m not about to put my neck on the line to test your limits,” I reply, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.
“All night, if you’re wondering,” he quips, his tone light but charged with an unspoken meaning.
“Oh, gross,” I exclaim, half in shock, half amused. His laughter fills the room, a sound surprisingly warm and infectious. It’s a side of him I hadn’t expected, and it catches me off guard in the best way.
“Maybe let’s not try turning around right now,” he suggests after a moment, and I silently agree, relieved yet oddly disappointed.
“I have to get ready for work, and then I’m going to a party tonight,” I mention, trying to shift the conversation to a more neutral topic.
“A party?” He sounds curious, maybe even a bit concerned.
“Yeah, a welcome back to school thing at one of the frats. Beta Omega something, I think.”
He frowns slightly. “Be careful. If you need a ride back, let me know. It’s not safe to walk back alone late at night.”
“I’ll be fine, Tyson will be there,” I assure him, referring to the guy who dropped me off last night.
“Tyson?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly recalling the encounter.
“Were you snooping?” I can’t help but feel a bit self-conscious, wondering if he witnessed my awkward moment with Tyson.
“Seth and I were just in the living room,” he explains, his gaze avoiding mine. So he did see it.
“Okay, well, thanks for the concern, but I’ll manage.” I step towards the door, feeling a mix of annoyance and confusion. Why was Oliver so concerned about my safety? It’s not like I need someone to watch over me. I’ve managed just fine on my own, even after leaving the sorority house on my first day in the city.
Fueled by a mix of anger and determination, I head back to my room to get ready for work, trying to push thoughts of Oliver and his unexpected concern to the back of my mind.