Chapter Five
Liv
Fourteen years ago…
All the other kids are crowded around the stop sign waiting for the school bus, while I stare down the street into the early morning fog. It’s my first day at my new school, and I don’t know anyone.
I’m too sheepish to walk up to any of them to introduce myself, so I keep my distance, balancing on the curb and rubbing my hands up and down my arms to ward off the bite of autumn in the air.
“Most people wear a sweater instead of mimicking a cricket,” a boy’s voice comes from beside me. My spine stiffens, and I barely glance over my shoulder, checking to see if he’s speaking to me.
He’s tall with jaw-length blonde hair pushed back behind his ears like the skateboarders you see in the movies. He’s not carrying a backpack despite being at the school bus stop.
“I don’t have any sweaters,” I utter, confused as to why he is talking to me.
“I know it’s a shitty trailer park, but I’m sure you’re not that poor,” he scoffs, pulling out a cigarette to light. I must scrunch my nose because he chuckles and puts it back in his pocket, unbothered.
“The last place I lived was warm year-round, and my mom only believes in sustainable goods. She made us get rid of most of our frivolous attire.”
“Frivolous? Are you 75?”
“I just turned sixteen.”
“Sophomore?”
“Junior. I placed high on my test scores.”
He rolls his eyes, and I don’t know why. I’m telling the truth.
“Senior,” he replies, and I look him up and down subtly because he looks much older than me, but he catches on. “I got held back.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry, smarty pants, I got expelled last year for fighting. Not because my grades suck.” He winks as if that lessens my concerns about him.
“I’m sorry?” I utter awkwardly. I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to say.
“I’m not. I beat the shit out of a bully, and he deserved it. My dad trashed my bike as punishment, though, so that sucked.”
He notices my confusion.
“My dirt bike.” He enlightens me. “Which is why I’m stuck riding the bus like a loser.” He glances at me. “No offense.”
I shrug because I don’t even have my temps. The bus is my only option.
“Your mom won’t let you have a coat because it’s frivolous?” He continues torturing me with conversation, and my heart is already beating out of my chest with nerves.
I’m starting three months late into the school year, and now a cute boy is looking at me. Cute boys never look at me.
“I have a wool poncho that she handmade, but it’s too hot for most situations, and she won’t buy me real deodorant. I’m afraid that I’ll stink.” Heat rushes to my cheeks with embarrassment.
“Yikes,” he says, raising his eyebrows.
“I don’t know why I told you that.” I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could hide. “It’s also really ugly,” I add, and an amused smile grows on his face before he laughs, making me smile bashfully.
“So, don’t come near you on the days you’re wearing your winter poncho. Got it.” He smirks, backpedaling slowly.
I think it’s part of his joke, but he continues backing away even as the bus comes rolling down the road.
“Where are you going?”
He shrugs. “Not feeling the bus today.”
I’m staring at his retreating form as the air brakes squeal, and all the other kids shuffle through the bus doors. It would have been nice to have one friendly face beside me as I arrived at the school, but I try not to think about it.
I’ll keep my head down and find my classes as fast as I can. If I don’t draw attention to myself, then the other kids won’t realize that I’m a fish out of water.
I went to public school until fifth grade, when my mom pulled me out to start homeschooling.
She started a wellness journey, and it overhauled our lives.
We bounced around from place to place while she sold her handmade goods and taught yoga classes.
We cut out all toxic household products, and then she met my stepdad at a free spirit retreat.
Now, we live in his trailer, and I don’t have access to the internet. It’s too radioactive, as they say. My options were to sit somewhere all day that provides free internet or to go back to public school.
I chose the latter. I wouldn’t mind more structure when my home life is the definition of flippant. I love my mom, but we’re polar opposites. She flows with the wind, and I’m rigid, responsible.
One of us has to be.
Too quickly, the bus screeches to a stop in front of the school, and I suck in a chest full of air. This is it.
My new school.
The large brick building is harsh and overbearing. Not for the first time, I’m regretting my choice to return to traditional school.
All the other students rush around me, heading through the main doors in a controlled flurry because they all know where they’re going. I am lost, and I haven’t even gone up the concrete steps.
“Hey, hippie girl,” the familiar voice calls from behind me.
The relief that washes over me makes me blush, but as I turn to look, so does embarrassment.
The boy from earlier is jumping out of some girl’s car and jogging towards me.
She’s older, probably a senior, but only shoots me a suspicious look before turning her car towards student parking.
“My name is Olive,” I tell him when he gets closer.
“Olive?” he looks at me questioningly.
I nod my head stiffly.
“Damn, even the name is hippie.”
The warmth in my cheeks deepens as he hands me a folded gray hoodie. “What’s this?”
“For the non-poncho days.” He winks, jogging up the steps towards the entrance. “See you around, Liv.”
Liv. My cheeks burn at the nickname. No one has ever given me a nickname.
I unfold the sweatshirt, looking at the faded logo across the worn cotton. It’s for a karate studio somewhere in town. The name ‘HAYES’ is ironed on the back, though the glue is more legible than what is left of the vinyl letters.
And, in the front pocket is a stick of men’s deodorant. Nothing natural about it.
I tuck it in my backpack, smiling to myself. At least I don’t have to worry about smelling bad at my new school.
* * *
Present…
The final wooden block settles at the top of the tower, completing the castle, and I sit back to admire my work. I’m babysitting baby Kate tonight, and even though she’s already tucked sweetly in her crib upstairs, I want her to have something fun to see first thing in the morning.
She’s only a year old, but I think she’ll appreciate Aunt Liv’s craftsmanship.
I never knew how much I could love another human. The second I laid eyes on her, I was in love. No one can convince me that she isn’t somehow part of my DNA.
I spent Thea’s entire pregnancy mourning because I thought I wouldn’t get the traditional aunt experience. We lived on opposite sides of the state, but one look at my best friend holding her sweet baby girl after she was born, and I knew I couldn’t miss it.
I couldn’t settle down with Elliot without having a chance to be a part of Thea’s journey into motherhood. And even though he thought it was a childish decision to make, I think he’s under the impression that this phase will help me get over my friendship from college.
But he doesn’t understand our relationship; he’s never really tried. She’s the sister that I never got. She knows me better than anyone, including him, the man I’m supposed to marry.
Having her as my person is something that I’ll never take for granted. And, being here for her while she navigates this phase of life was nonnegotiable, so he kept his judgments to himself when I made it clear I wasn’t asking his permission.
I was born to teen parents who gave me up for adoption, and my new mom was a single woman in her fifties. I had no family, no siblings or cousins.
Thea is my family. Now, my cottage is ten minutes from her house, and I can be her village. I get to babysit the sweetest baby ever, so mom and dad get a break.
I get baby snuggles and all the giggles.
She’s the best. She’s–
A wooden board creaks behind me, and my spine stiffens against the back of the couch. Thea and Jesse won’t be home for at least another hour or two.
I don’t look towards the sound because I can’t tell where it came from, but I train my ears to listen closely to my surroundings. It’s an old house; it could’ve been the wind.
But when another faint creak sounds to my left, sweat gathers at the neck of my sweater. It sounds like it came from outside. My hand slides over the velvet couch cushion to grip my phone. Should I call the police?
What if it’s nothing?
It’s been nearly two weeks since the last flower was left on my car. This has nothing to do with that…
But, even as I think it, my brain is contradicting itself. I don’t want to look like the girl who cried wolf. I have a professional reputation to uphold in this county.
I should call Jackson. He’s the Sheriff, but he’s my friend; he wouldn’t judge me. If I call Elliot, I’ll have to explain why I’m so paranoid, and I have no desire to open that can of worms.
No, I’m a grown woman, I can handle this. It’s probably a stray cat.
I tiptoe towards the door and flip on the porch light, but nothing happens. The dim yellow light normally shines through the small windows at the top, but they’re still cast in darkness. The porch light is out.
It’s nothing. The light bulb probably needs to be changed.
It’s nothing.
Another slow creak makes me jump. Was that right outside the door?
My fingernails clack against the screen before taking on a life of their own as I back into the living room.
“Hello?” The sing-song voice answers on the other end of the line.
“Hi, Jo. I hope this isn’t a bad time, but I was wondering if you had Hayes’s phone number?” My skin tingles after saying his name out loud.
“Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?” She must hear the nerves in my voice. This is stupid.
“Everything is fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you so late. Have a good night!”
“Wait–”
I don’t give her a chance to speak, ending the call before I can change my mind. What was I thinking?
Reaching out to Hayes would be opening a door that has been firmly shut for a long time.
My nails tap against my black phone screen as it starts to buzz, vibrating with an incoming call. It’s not a number I have saved.
My gut tells me that it’s Hayes.
My guilt forces me to ignore the call.
I shouldn’t talk to him.
But what if someone is outside? Kate’s upstairs.
That thought makes my stomach roll.
The same number pops up again, as my phone vibrates in my hand.
“Hello?” I answer under my breath.
“Liv?”
I ignore the relief that washes over me when I hear his voice, still too nervous to analyze that feeling.
“I shouldn’t have reached out.”
“But you did.”
I can only answer with silence.
“Are you okay?”
“It’s nothing.”
“What’s wrong?”
More silence from me.
“Olive.” His stern tone makes me squeeze my eyes shut. It’s been a long time, but I know that tone… It isn’t anger. It’s unyielding protectiveness.
It’s exactly why it was too easy to reach out to him.
“I’m babysitting at Thea’s, and I got spooked. I shouldn’t have called.”
“Are the doors locked?” The rumble of an engine nearly drowns out his voice, but I ignore the implication of that. He isn’t getting on his bike for me; he doesn’t even know where Thea lives.
“Of course, they are.”
“Go hide in a safe spot.”
“I’m not hiding. Plus, the baby is asleep upstairs.”
“Go upstairs.”
“Hayes, this is ridiculous. I was too embarrassed to call Malec, and now you’re freaking me out.”
“You called me for a reason, Liv.”
“It was a mistake.” I shrug as if he can see me, pacing back and forth behind the couch.
“Nothing between us is ever a mistake.”
I can’t respond, and my silence is heavy between us as his engine revs in the background.
I know I should hang up, but a part of me wants to keep him on the line until Thea and Jesse get home.
Even after all this time and everything we’ve been through, I can’t cut off the only connection I have to him. I’ve never been able to.
But I’m also not the girl I used to be.
“Listen, I shouldn’t have called. I’m fine. The porch light probably needs a new bulb, and–” I’m already staring at the door as the brass doorknob twists ever so slowly.
“New bulb? What are you–” I gasp, cutting him off, not hearing the rest as my phone clatters to the floor.