Chapter 20Olivia
Olivia
“I swear, ice cream hits differently in a cone,” I say before lapping up the sweet bulb.
“Chocolate sprinkles hit differently,” Lauren adds.
I narrow my eyes, shaking my head. “Those are just fighting words.”
Her chuckle hums next to my ear as we stroll along the sidewalk. Light wind swirls around us, the clean scent of the air signaling the dawning of spring. “My lord, how are we adults?”
“I feel like after you turn six, the sprinkle debate is closed. Everyone knows the rainbow ones are superior.”
“Mm, can we close off the weight gain after twenty-five too?” she jokes.
“Everyone can afford to lose some weight,” I counter before licking my sticky upper lip. “The key is skincare and exercise.”
“As we eat ice cream for lunch,” she deadpans.
The breeze tickles my hair, and my eyes greet the puffy, gray sky. “On a chilly, cloudy day.”
“Why are we like this?”
“I don’t know. Boredom has consumed us, clearly.” I slurp the trickling vanilla lines from my knuckle.
“I expected better from you,” Lauren teases before licking the chocolate mound on her cone.
“Oh, look!” I gasp.
Bursts of bright pastels pop into my vision, and I scurry the few feet to the corner brick building.
I halt in front of the butterfly mural, an explosion of colors embedded in the large wingspan on the burnt orange canvas.
A paisley design weaves within the vibrant palette, blending this sort of kaleidoscope effect that knocks my eyes around.
I slip the vanilla lump between my lips, sucking on the rich flavor. My eyes travel the span of the painted insect, but the only image I can conjure is me and Cade tucked under the spreading tree.
To fly where I’m meant to.
You know, if the universe wanted Cade and I to be together this much, was it drunk off its ass when it decided for him to have a girlfriend? Who created these demented details? Seriously, there are way, way shittier people in the world who deserve this kind of vicious torture.
“Okay, this calls for a photo op,” I utter, finally spinning around.
Lauren rolls her eyes on a grunt, but I retrieve my phone from my belt bag anyway. “You’re so unapologetically as basic as your damn ice cream,” she says, snatching my phone from me.
“I was gonna take a photo of you next, chill,” I grumble playfully, retreating back to the brick.
Her chin tilts up dramatically. “Oh, yes. I live for photo receipts. Please, please take my picture so I can post it to social media for hundreds of likes.”
“Okay, can you not?” I suspend my palms out. “It’s not hundreds of likes.” Then I twist my head to either side, simply catching the naked branches of the trees lining the sidewalk. “And no one is coming our way right now, so can you put your cynicism aside?”
“This post better make you viral,” she retorts before slurping the top of her cone.
I grin when my back is flush against the rugged brick, planting the bottom of my sneaker on the wall. My hand holding the cone rests against the belt of my high-rise jeans, shoving the flap of my plaid shacket out of the way.
“Okay, wait. Hold up,” I request. I mildly angle my chin up so my free fingertips can dance around the ends of my high ponytail. “Go, go, go.”
Lauren drags the phone a few inches in different directions, and then the mini modeling session ends.
I’m wearing the widest grin when I shoot off the wall to dash up to her. “Okay, your turn, your turn!”
I rip the phone from her palm, and she waves a hand at me with crumpled brows. “No way.”
I bite into the waffle crust of my cone as I sift through the photos Lauren just snapped. But when she walks up to the mural, it only takes a few seconds for me to capture a candid of her.
My phone is still raised in my palm when she whirls around, her mouth dropping as she says, “You bitch.”
I shrug, dipping my attention to the screen with a devious smirk. “You’ll forgive me once you see how awesome it looks. Also, I know exactly what my caption is going to be for this post.”
My thumb swipes through the photos, and Lauren’s auburn locks creep into my periphery. “Is it ‘I love Cade forever’? But spelled with the number 4?” she asks at my side.
“Funny,” I state. “More like, ‘As long as I get my social media post in.’”
“What?” She scowls, rejecting the idea. “Also, don’t post my picture.”
“It was the first thing he said to me,” I answer casually. “And too late. You looked too good.”
“In all seriousness, Liv, you can’t pursue a guy with a girlfriend,” Lauren warns.
I sigh, dropping my phone in my belt bag. “I’m not .” My eyes greet her brown ones, and I know they’re absent of conviction. “But I can be his friend.”
She glues me with a bored stare. “Liv, we both know that’s not your goal.”
“Okay, hear me out.” I lay a palm out in front of her. “No, I don’t just want to be his friend. But I’m also not going to help him cheat. I care about him way too much.”
“And if he pursues you all on his own, that’s okay?” she challenges.
My eyes squint, head rotating to the side as I bite the cone crust. “I guess not , ” I mock mid-chew.
Lauren sighs, her hand lightly slapping my upper arm. “Liv! No!”
“I know!” I hold my arms out, eyes widening into saucers as I hold her judgmental glare.
“But it just seems really unfair that these are the circumstances. Like out of all eight billion people in the world, he had to be one of them that’s already in a relationship?
And honestly, how? ‘Cause let’s face it; his personality isn’t exactly built for a romance movie. ”
She slowly shakes her head, a cautionary gaze piercing through. “You’ve got it bad, Liv.”
“Why are you acting like this is Stockholm Syndrome? People accept that in some cultures, so I think you should just accept my unrequited feelings for my rescuer. Which, by the way, are much more valid in my humble opinion,” I defend, placing a palm to my chest.
“The girlfriend is already a red flag.”
Thank you, Lauren.
Didn’t notice.
“People can break up,” I mutter under my breath.
Lauren cups her ear, leaning into me. “Uhm, what was that?”
“Ugh, fine ,” I grunt harshly, popping the last piece of my cone through my lips. We resume our journey along the concrete, and I’m mumbling over the bite of food. “I’m not going to be a side piece or a home wrecker, calm down.”
I curl the corner with Lauren behind me, my body abruptly clashing into a woman along the bend. A gasp slips from me, palms raising with my eyes as I stumble back on my feet.
My mouth parts to apologize, but a dagger strikes my lungs. Because this blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty isn’t alone.
No.
Her hand is linked to a tall and handsome man in a heather-gray hoodie and jeans.
Cade.
Bile escalates in my throat, body unyielding. I’m incapable of fanning a single hair on my head.
His jaw tenses, nostrils lightly flaring as his gaze bores into me. Then I jolt at the sound of a woman’s voice.
“I’m so sorry.”
I swallow, head pivoting to study her perfectly straight hair. Not to mention the casual crewneck sweatshirt on top of her jeans.
“Excuse us.” Lauren’s fingers wrap tightly around my upper arm, nails burrowing into the fabric of my shacket. She plants her chest to my back, steering my body around Cade and his girlfriend.
Girlfriend.
He peeks over his shoulder just as I look over mine, our numb gazes connecting like two magnets.
Until we fade from each other’s view.
“She’s so beautiful,” I whisper as I turn around.
A natural beauty who doesn’t need to glamor herself up with clothes or accessories.
Like I do.
An invisible fist delivers a punch to my gut, and I slow along the sidewalk as too many thoughts stream through my mind. Thoughts that are so gray and muddled, I can’t snatch a clear view.
I don’t think I ever will.
“You’re just as beautiful, if not more,” Lauren argues.
“I have to see,” I sigh through strangled lungs.
I whirl back around to stand at the corner of the brick building. My palm bends over the jagged edge, half my head cautiously poking from it until one eye lands on their backsides.
Envy injects into my veins, my soul sinking just as my eyes do. I catch their interlocked fingers, the vision making me want nothing more than to swat her hand away and replace it with my own.
It’s not fair.
“Liv.”
“Okay, I get it,” I bite out, popping off the wall.
I crash the toe of my sneaker into the brick once, an inch of steam rolling off me as I face Lauren. My lips dip in the corners, brows caving in just like my lungs already have.
“But why does it hurt so bad?” I breathe out.
Lauren flashes a tight-lipped smile as she strolls toward me. “Come on. We’ll take a detour to the grocery store and bring a whole tub of ice cream home.”
I’m convinced trash television is the best cure for a mangled heart. No matter the level of your distraught, the drama always has this unique way of suppressing your own emotional turmoil.
Toxic? Maybe.
Necessary? Hell, yes.
“You know what I was wondering?” I ask, shoveling another spoonful of chocolate ice cream into my mouth.
“How does one start the conversation to their significant other and say, ‘Hey, wanna go on a reality show where we potentially hook up with other people? That way, we can see how we truly feel about each other?’”
“They obviously are already in a shitty relationship. I highly doubt they care about the other’s feelings,” Lauren answers before taking a sip of her Pinot Grigio.
I sink back into the cushion of the couch, snuggling my curled legs closer to my side. “Is the fifteen minutes of fame even worth it? I mean, you never see Temptation Island cast members making it big in Hollywood or anything.”
“That’s why it’s fifteen minutes,” she says, only to wave me off with her hand. “Oh, shh. Bonfire.”
My eyes light up, moaning while my lips wrap around another scoop of ice cream. “I fucking love this shit,” I mumble.
Our gazes are glued to the TV screen like we’re watching the Holy Grail or something. And if this doesn’t accurately sum up our friendship, I don’t know what does.
But when I dig another taste of my dinner from the plastic tub in my lap, a beam of light raids the corner of my eye. My head swivels to the left, suddenly met with my lit phone screen on the arm of the sofa.
Unknown: I feel the need to apologize about this afternoon.
My entire body hums, recharging at the simple words in the text notification.
It doesn’t automatically mean he’s interested in pursuing me. It certainly doesn’t mean he wants to break up with his girlfriend. But it’s the start of something . A hint of what may come, and I’m not sure if I should completely trust it just yet.
I slowly drag my gaze to Lauren, making sure her attention is still fastened to the TV before retrieving my phone. Then, with a spoonful of ice cream held to my mouth, my free thumb sets up the camera. Allowing my lips to wrap around the small lump of chocolate, I snap a quick picture.
Cade
Olivia: You worry too much. Have some ice cream.
Her thick bang frames her face, plump and shiny lips wrapping around a chocolate bulb of ice cream. And to pour gasoline on the fire, those mint green eyes hook onto mine through thick lashes.
Her beauty isn’t the kind that steals your breath away, but instead, gifts it back to you.
I plant my phone on my chest, both hands tangling in my hair as I sink my head back into the throw pillow. “Fuck me.”
I should’ve gone with my initial gut and refrained from texting her. But ever since Jenna and I bumped into Olivia, there’s this startling loyalty that emerges inside me.
She feels nice . Somewhere between a warm sunlight and cool breeze at the end of summer.
A friend.
A friend whose feelings I don’t want to hurt.
Although things have grown progressively worse between me and Jenna, I’m just not this guy.
Or maybe I’m not proving Jenna’s disloyalty quick enough.
Until now, I’ve never understood the disappointment of the ordinary .
Until her.
Because now that I’ve licked a taste of it, all I crave is the extraordinary .