Olivia
Chapter twenty-one
From the lockers, we go straight to the Raging River, which is one of Schlitterbahn’s classic rides—a whitewater rapids–style adventure that’s a mix between a waterslide and a lazy river.
It takes thirty minutes from start to finish, alternating between fast-moving rapids and more leisurely floating.
It’s fun, for sure, but part of my enjoyment of it is the nostalgia factor.
Summers coming here with my sisters or with Annie and Gage are in the front of my memories as we float along.
When we pass underneath the entrance building, we reach our hands up and pull ourselves forward on the low-lying ceiling of the tunnel, laughing when Matt calls this part of the ride a “claustrophobic person's nightmare.”
The park is busy, so we get jammed up a few times in the slower moving parts of the river. At the end of the tube chute, we’re emptied into the Comal River—a real river that borders the park.
Next, we ride a couple of the water coasters before moving on to tube slides. The lines throughout the park are long, and we’re all too broke to buy Fast Lane wristbands to skip the waits.
Gage is at peak flirty at the water park today, and I am here for it. His hand is always on my arm or my shoulder or wrapped around my waist. He holds my hand as we walk around. He keeps sneaking looks at me in my swimsuit and winking at me when he catches me checking him out.
The energy must be contagious, because as the day progresses, I notice Matt and Brynn flirting more and more, too. They’re not together, as far as I know, and I try to keep a pretty close eye on the Camp Prairie Star gossip.
Maybe once Brynn realized that Gage is, in fact, off-limits, she set her sights on Matt. He’s a nice guy, maybe a couple of years younger than me, and he’s definitely attractive. He’s no Gage, of course, but Brynn could do much worse.
For lunch, we eat barbecue inside the park and then hang out in the Lagoon pool for a while as we digest.
Resting my head back against the pool’s edge, I close my eyes.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what Gage shared about his adoption last weekend.
Gage always seemed so happy growing up, so carefree.
And I guess nothing he said last weekend indicates that wasn’t the case, but I didn’t know about everything else going on under the surface.
When he was talking about his adoption, his voice sounded so sad, and I’ve never heard Annie talk about it that way.
As far as I can tell, Annie loves her parents, she loves Maggie and Maggie’s family, and she’s a little self-conscious about having such a complicated family, but she’s never hinted that she felt disconnected or unattached from either side.
Though of course Gage and Annie are different people, even if they’re twins. They don’t need to feel the same way about their adoption. It’s ironic that Gage, with his go-with-the-flow attitude, is the one hung up on it instead of Annie, who overthinks everything.
I told Gage that I wish I could have been there for him while he was sifting through all these feelings in college, and it’s true. I know it’s my fault that I wasn’t there for him. I know that I not only rejected him as my boyfriend but also ghosted him as a friend.
I spent so much time worrying about protecting myself, that I didn’t fully consider how much I was hurting Gage. I figured I’d be easy for him to get over, that I wasn’t especially important to him to begin with.
This summer, I’m beginning to see how wrong that assumption was.
I’m also wondering if I’m making the same incorrect assumption now, and if so, where does that leave Gage when camp ends?
Someone presses into my side, and I open my eyes to see Gage sidled up next to me in the pool.
He points a finger at me. “You have a tattoo!” he accuses.
I lift my foot out of the water, the monogram-style tattoo inked there clearly visible. “What tipped you off?”
“I just … how didn’t I notice it before now? When did you get it?” He looks flustered, like he doesn’t like that there are things about me he doesn’t know. I can relate.
“My sisters took me to get it after I turned 18.” That would have been a couple of months after graduation, after I started avoiding Gage. “We all got them to match.”
He squints through the water. “What is it?”
Squaring my hands on the wall behind me, I push myself up until I’m sitting at the edge of the pool. I lift my foot again, and this time Gage catches it in his hands to examine it.
He traces the letters with his finger. “M. N. O.” He bites his lip as his chin lifts toward the sky. “Molly. Nicole. Olivia,” he finally guesses.
“Mm-hmm.”
He squeezes my foot. “I never realized your names were in order like that. Did your parents do that on purpose?”
I consider the question. “Not at first, I don’t think. They named Molly and Nicole and then when I came along, they realized they could continue the pattern. They only really considered names starting with O for me.”
“What were the runners-up?” Gage hasn’t let go of my foot. Instead, he’s using his thumbs to massage my arches, his hands sliding along my wet skin.
It’s making it hard for me to focus on his question. “Um, they said once that if I was a boy, I would have been named Owen. They’ve also mentioned Ophelia.”
Gage cringes. “If you were named Ophelia, I would have been more supportive about the switch to Delaney.”
I shove his shoulder. “Rude. Ophelia is a beautiful name.”
He nods. “It is, but it’s not you.” I wave him away, but he continues. “Have you ever looked up what the name Olivia means?”
“Sure.” I shrug, but I don’t really remember the meaning.
“It means peace. That’s what I feel around you. Peace.”
My field of vision narrows, and everything around us in the crowded pool area disappears. A wave of assorted emotions roll over me—gratitude, insecurity, awe, doubt. A sensation prickles behind my eyes, and I slide back into the pool and under the water to hide.
Why is Gage so good to me? He makes it really hard not to fall for him.
The poignant moment threatens to overwhelm me, so I push it away.
When I pop back up out of the water, I say, “Enough of this lazing around—let’s race.”
Gage quirks his eyebrows up. “What did you have in mind?”
“Two words: Downhill Racer.” The Downhill Racers are headfirst mat slides that sit side by side, perfect for some friendly competition. I point to myself and then at Gage. “Head-to-head. Me and you.”
Gage smirks. “It's on.” He sets one palm on the side of the pool and launches himself up and out, somehow landing on his feet on the pool deck.
He looks back—undoubtedly to catch my reaction—and when he sees my wide eyes, he winks. He flexes his biceps. “It's all in the arms,” he says cockily.
As ridiculous as he's being, I'm grateful for the shift in tone. Confident, arrogant Gage is much easier to deal with than sweet, sensitive Gage.
I scramble out of the pool behind him, the bottoms of my feet stinging as they hit the hot deck.
Gage finds Matt and Brynn in the crowded pool to let them know where we're going. They decide to hang here a while longer, and, because our phones are in the locker, we pick a time and place to meet back up later.
“Looks like it’s just the two of us,” Gage says as we walk away.
I punch a fist into my hand. “Yep. And you’re going down.”
He smirks. “I am. I’m going down the slide faster than you.”
I groan.
We continue the banter all the way to the Downhill Racer slides near the park entrance, our smack talk becoming even more lame as we go.
We each grab a blue foam mat and carry them toward the stairs. The mat isn’t heavy, but it’s bulky and keeps bumping my legs as I walk.
Gage holds out his hand. “Give it here.”
I turn the mat away from him. “It’s okay. I’ve got it.”
Then the bottom of the mat hits the ground right as I take a step, and I’m tripping forward. Gage grabs me around the waist and sets me on my feet.
“Thanks,” I mumble. I’m not sure if my face is hot with embarrassment or because I’m standing directly in the sun. We’ll say it’s the sun.
Without saying a word, Gage holds out his hand again.
I give him my mat, paired with a scowl. He smirks and gestures for me to walk ahead of him as we start climbing the stairs to the top of the slides.
We make it halfway up before we’re at the end of the line.
Fortunately, because there are four slides—two sets of two—the line moves quickly.
When it’s our turn, Gage hands me my mat, and I set it in the water on the innermost slide. I grip the handles, leaning over the mat but not yet lying on it.
On his side, Gage remains standing, holding his mat by the handles. He’s hoping for more momentum by starting from a stand.
The lifeguard gestures to let us know it’s safe for us to go, so Gage counts us down. “Three. Two. One!”
I dive forward to propel my mat down the slide, turning my head to see how close I am to Gage.
I can’t tell with the wind and water blowing past my face.
I glide over one drop, then the second, and soon I splash into the runout at the bottom.
When I slow to a stop and stand up, Gage is already out of the water, smirking as he leans against the handrail of the steps to exit the ride.
“Best two out of three!” I call.
We can’t keep our mats—there’s a small line of people waiting to take them from us—so we give them up and get in line again.
After a short wait for mats, we go back up the stairs. This time I try a standing start, but my foot slips as I push off the ground and I end up starting at least a body length behind Gage. Needless to say, he beats me to the bottom.
He waits for me on the steps of the exit pool again, smirking.
“It’s because you weigh more than me,” I huff.
Gage holds up a finger. “Last one.”
When it’s our turn again, I push off the ground to launch myself and my mat down the slide. I lean my body forward and try to keep my legs straight and tight. I lower my head, which I hope will reduce drag, but which also means I can’t keep tabs on where Gage is.
As soon as I stop at the bottom, I jump up. Gage is standing up at the same time.
“Who won?” I shout over to him.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. A tie?”
“No way.” I slosh through the ankle-deep water to the exit steps, dragging my mat behind me.
Gage meets me on the wooden deck at the top of the exit steps and takes the mat from my hands.
“Not a tie,” I insist as we walk toward the line of people waiting for mats.
“Fine. You, then.” His voice pitches higher, bright amusement evident in his tone.
I narrow my eyes. “Are you saying that because you actually think I won or because you’re humoring me?”
Gage hands our mats to the next two people in line, and we move to the side, toward the cabanas.
“Have you always been so competitive?” he teases.
I think back to the weekends we spent climbing trees in the woods behind my house.
Gage and I challenged each other to climb higher and higher while Annie watched nervously on the ground.
Or the summer afternoons spent by the Carters’ pool, when Annie judged who had the biggest splash when we cannonballed into the water or the smallest splash when we tried pencil jumps.
“You know I have.”
He stops walking and pulls me to the side of the walkway, almost into the landscaping. “Yeah,” he agrees in a low voice. “And I love it. It’s hot.”
I tilt my chin up and kiss him, opening my lips right away to feel his tongue glide against mine as smooth as the mat against the waterslide.
He groans when I pull away, resting his forehead against mine. “You’re the best kisser, that’s for sure.”
I think I can agree to a tie on that one.