3. Olivia
Chapter three
Olivia
" G o away!!" I scream, slamming my bedroom door behind me. My voice echoes through the room as I bury my face in my pillow and let out a frustrated scream, the burn in my throat reminding me of my anger. Blindly, I punch the air, imagining each blow landing on Elliot’s jaw, leaving a scar on those infuriatingly beautiful brown eyes and his sleek chestnut hair. God knows how many cans of hairspray he must use to get it to look like that.
The bed dips slightly beside me, and I groan as my brother, Daniel, sits down.
"Are you done throwing your tantrum?"
"Nope, I’m just getting started," I growl, barely sparing him a glance. "I might just take a screwdriver to your car next."
"Hey, I get it. You’re mad. You can punch me if you want, but don’t hurt my poor car. My baby has nothing to do with this." Daniel tries to make me laugh, and somehow, he does.
Turning to face him, I bark, "How could you invite Elliot here today? It’s my first night back!"
"He’s my best friend, Ollie." Daniel starts, but I cut him off.
"But I’m your sister, and I hate him!" I yell, resenting having to say it out loud.
Daniel opens his mouth as if about to speak, but instead, he pulls me close, stroking my hair. I know what’s coming next, and I hate it.
"I’m sorry, Ollie. I know you hate him for ruining prom, but—"
"This isn’t about prom!" I snap. "It’s about his cocky attitude and how he always ignores what I say," I lie, hoping my blush goes unnoticed.
It’s easier to blame Elliot’s attitude—something everyone in town can agree with—than admit that I’m still hung up on something that happened when I was sixteen. There’s no way to admit it without sounding petty, especially since he’s apologized. But honestly, I still haven’t forgiven him. Henry was supposed to be my first kiss, but Elliot ruined it. I ended up having my first kiss during a college game of truth or dare, and it wasn’t magical. No butterflies.
Daniel sighs, his voice softening. "You’re the only one I can trust, Ollie. Julia and I need you both now more than ever. So, even on the days you want to punch his face, remember you’re doing this for your only brother. The one you love so much."
Rolling my eyes in feigned annoyance, I know he’s about to guilt-trip me. And damn it, it’s working. He’s the only real family I have left. "You know I hate you, right?" I scowl, but he smiles brightly.
"You love me, Ollie. You just need to admit it." I grab a pillow, and he isn’t quick enough to dodge it. It lands squarely on his face.
The door creaks open, and Julia stands there, confused. "I told you, babe, I only needed a few minutes to talk her into agreeing to this. Now, where’s my twenty?" Daniel winks at her, and I stare, baffled.
She pulls out a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and hands it to him. "I honestly thought you’d fight for at least two days," she says.
"Who are you two? I thought we were on the same team," I laugh, watching them kiss.
"Thanks, Ollie," Daniel says, pulling Julia out of the room. "And when you meet the event planner tomorrow, please skip the banana suit or anything that makes you look like a hippie." He teases, ducking just in time as I hurl another pillow at him.
For the first time since seeing Elliot, I smile genuinely. This is why I came back to this town—this happiness.
Moving to my dresser, I pull my blonde hair into a band and stare at my yellow joggers. Daniel’s right; I do look like a bunch of fresh bananas, but I don’t care. He’d probably faint if he saw the rest of my clothes. "Oh brother, I’ll definitely be the end of you," I mutter, heading into the bathroom to wash away the stress of the night.
An hour later, I crawl into bed. It’s time to post my weekly advice on my blog, but I’m unsure what to say. I turn on my laptop and jot down the first thought that comes to mind:
A Woman’s Dream of Love
Every woman dreams of a love story. The kind that sweeps you off your feet and makes you feel safe. The kind that steals your breath but leaves you unafraid of what comes next. And if you’re lucky enough to experience this kind of love, you’re the luckiest woman alive.
I stare at the post, second-guessing myself, but before I can change it, I hit "post." This is my life as a relationship blogger—sharing the beauty of love with the world. Even if Elliot doesn’t get it.
The sound of my alarm pulls me awake. Sunlight is streaming through the window, and I realize I’ve fallen asleep with my laptop still on the bed. I shuffle to the kitchen, hoping to find my brother or Julia, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Instead, there’s a note from Daniel: "Hey, sleepyhead, didn’t want to wake you. I drove Julia to her parents' house. You’ll need to meet the event planners by 10 A.M., so don’t oversleep. P.S.: Elliot will pick you up. He knows the place."
"Elliot!!" I groan. This is my reality for the next three weeks.
There’s no time to eat or relax. After a quick shower, I grab the first clothes I can find when the doorbell rings. "Coming," I call, grabbing my bag and rushing to the door to find Elliot standing there.
He’s dressed in faded blue jeans, a white shirt, and a denim jacket. His hair isn’t slicked back like usual, but tousled, as if he couldn’t be bothered to comb it—and somehow, he still looks effortlessly sexy.
"Get a grip, Olivia," I silently warn myself, recalling last night’s events.
His eyes flicker to my shirt, and yes, I’m aware it says "I love Bubbles." He can stare all he wants—I’m not changing.
"Do you have a secret passion for weird clothes, or do you think it’ll make you the next fashion icon?" Elliot says dryly.
"Who needs boring clothes when you can have a conversation starter?" I retort, heading for his car. His eyes narrow, but I don’t care.
He unlocks the door for me, but I stop him. "I can handle the door, thanks. I don’t need you playing gentleman—it might just make me gag."
The ride is silent except for the radio. It takes us half an hour to reach the event planners’ office, but Elliot doesn’t get out of the car.
"Are you coming inside, or are you planning to sit here all day?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
His grip tightens on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed straight ahead. "Don’t tell me you’ve gotten cold feet just from seeing flowers and a place where people actually understand what ‘love’ means?" I tease.
His eyes darken. "You know what, Ollie? I’ve been trying to be nice since you got back, but you’re getting more annoying."
"And you want to know what I hate more than being stuck here with you?" His voice is sharp, fists clenched on the steering wheel. "It’s you trying to rile me up with your stupid talk about love, acting like you know what’s going on in my head."
I bite my lip, my heart pounding. But this is different. I’m different now.
Unlocking the door, I step out, relieved by the distance between us. "You can stay here and whine. Honestly, I’d rather not see your grumpy face while I’m planning my brother’s future."
As I walk into the building, my heart is still racing. And it’s not from fear. It’s something else. Something confusing. What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe I should see a doctor later and ask:
"Hey, Doc, can you explain why my heart is racing and why I was staring at the lips of the man I hate the most like they were a popsicle I was dying to have?"
I can already imagine the diagnosis: "You’re lonely, Miss Reed. Very lonely."