Chapter 36
Oliver wordlessly follows me to the kitchen to retrieve my desserts. I can feel the rage seething off him. Fortunately, no one else joins us.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he finally exhales. “Are you okay?”
I shrug. “You?”
Oliver starts pacing. “Not great.” He strides back and forth across the kitchen, taking long, deep breaths, then returns to my side. “How do you do this? How do you take all their shit without losing your mind?”
It takes most of my willpower not to burst into hysterical laughter. “I don’t. That’s the secret. I dissociate while I’m here and process it later when I’m alone. It’s the only way.”
Oliver shakes his head. “I’m trying, Jude. I’m trying really hard. If they were this shitty to me, I wouldn’t care, but… it’s you. They’re bullying my best friend, and I can’t do anything about it. It’s driving me insane.”
I reach for both his hands. “You’re doing exactly what I asked you to do, and I appreciate it more than you can know.”
Oliver’s jaw tightens. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
I glance at my watch. “I think just an hour or so more and we can leave.”
“An hour?” Oliver echoes, an octave higher than usual. “Jude–”
“Please? It’s almost over.”
Oliver presses his lips tightly, and I watch as tiny little muscles twitch across his face. It pains me to know he’s suffering, too. I knew it would be awful for me, but I hate myself for dragging Oliver into it. “Okay,” he says. “One more hour.”
I smile, pulling him to me and wrapping my arms around his waist. He drapes his arms around me, too, enveloping me in warmth and safety, and my heart flutters.
Pressing my face into his chest, I breathe deeply, inhaling his comforting scent.
Sixty more minutes until it’s just Oliver and me again, and we’ll be free. The two of us against the world.
“Did you just sniff me?” Oliver asks.
I freeze. “What? No,” I blurt, halfheartedly trying to pull away.
Oliver doesn’t allow it, holding me tight against him. He laughs. “You did, didn’t you?”
“I was just breathing,” I argue, pushing against him as my face burns with embarrassment.
Oliver chuckles again. “You’re lying.”
“Okay, fine, I sniffed you,” I admit. “You smell nice. Sue me.”
Oliver releases me, an adorably smug grin on his face. “You smell good, too, you know.”
“Shut up and help me with the desserts,” I mutter, grinning despite myself.
The two of us unwrap and arrange my homemade sweets on the designated dessert table—two pumpkin pies and three trays of cookies. I add my handwritten labels and set out a stack of plates, napkins, and utensils, then step back to admire the spread.
Oliver swipes one of each cookie and tosses them onto his plate. When I give him a quizzical look, he quickly explains: “I’m going to grab some pie later.”
I laugh. “You really don’t have to have any of it.”
He gawks at me. “Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all day!”
Dessert is served, and my family’s attention on Oliver and me finally wanes.
Eventually, the family migrates to the living room, where the television has switched from Bluey to football.
Thirteen-year-old Madison, still admiring Oliver from afar, sits by an outlet in the corner, charging her phone.
Most of the other kids have dispersed, leaving only Cooper, Harper, and Emma in the living room with the adults.
Emma continues working on her wildflowers, and Taylor brings Harper to the coffee table to join in.
Oliver and I find two unoccupied folding chairs and settle in.
I check my watch. Just forty-three more minutes until we can leave.
As I scramble to find a plausible excuse for our departure, Oliver scoots our chairs closer together and stretches his arm across the back of my chair, gently rubbing my shoulder.
I smile and lean into his chest, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head.
My heart flutters and aches. Only forty-three more minutes with Oliver as my boyfriend. I might as well enjoy every second.
“Those cookies were truly delicious, DEADNAME,” Ashlynn announces, holding yet another glass of wine.
“And the pie’s incredible, too,” Aunt Lisa adds. “You’re an excellent baker.”
I smile bashfully. “Thank you.”
Oliver gives my shoulder a little squeeze. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“You know what they say,” Steph chimes in. “The way to a man's heart is through his stomach.”
Oliver laughs. “I mean, they’re not wrong. I’m a big fan of food.”
I stifle a giggle. “The biggest fan.”
“Does DEADNAME cook for you?” Steph asks.
Oliver glances at me before answering. “Yeah, sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?” Brian echoes.
“We’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks,” I interject. “And it’s not like we live together.”
Oliver nods.
“I’m just so happy you took up baking, and it sounds like you enjoy cooking, too,” Steph continues. “No offense, DEADNAME, but I was worried you wouldn’t pick up any feminine hobbies.”
I struggle not to roll my eyes. “Cooking and baking aren’t feminine hobbies,” I argue.
Cody snorts, and Oliver stiffens.
“That’s what I mean,” Steph continues. “You’ve always had a hang-up about gender roles, so I was worried you’d refuse to even try. Like you’d refuse to cook just out of spite, like a radical feminist or something.”
I open my mouth to protest, but think better of it. “Nope.”
“That’s good!” Steph says with a grin. “I’m sure Oliver appreciates it!”
Oliver says nothing, which makes me nervous.
“Careful, Steph,” Cody says with a smirk. “You’re going to reactivate the sleeper feminist agent, and then she’ll never cook for Oliver again.”
I ignore him, resting my hand on Oliver’s knee. He relaxes slightly and resumes gently rubbing my shoulder.
“Come on, let’s cut DEADNAME some slack,” Brian says. “I think she’s come a long way in the past two years.”
“That’s right!” Mom chimes in. “Oliver probably knows about that rough patch in senior year, but–”
“Mom, can we not?” I croak, finally looking up to meet my mother's gaze.
Her eyes widen. “Oh, does he…does he not know?”
“Not know what?” Ashlynn asks.
“Ash, don’t encourage this,” Taylor hisses. “Y’all have got to stop picking on them, or Oliver’s never coming back.”
“But it’s hilarious!” Cody bellows. “Trust me, DEADNAME. In a few years, you and Oliver will look back on your lesbian phase and laugh.”
Every muscle in my body tenses. Fuck.
“Wow, Cody,” Taylor says. “Real mature.”
Ashlynn gasps. “Wait, DEADNAME, you went through a lesbian phase?”
“Can we please stop throwing around the ‘L-word’?” Megan reprimands. “The kids don’t need to hear that.”
“It was more than just an ‘L-word’ phase,” Cody continues, unfazed. “She was also trying to change her name to something weird and genderless, use ‘they/them’ pronouns, and all that ‘woke’ nonsense.”
Oliver inhales sharply. I glance at him and see him staring straight ahead, jaw tight, a bead of sweat on his temple. I look away. Maybe we should just leave now. I hate seeing Oliver like this. It’s all my fault.
“But the lesbian thing is funny, at least,” Cody adds with a chuckle. “It’s no wonder she’s into baby-faced, long-haired dudes, huh, Oliver?”
Oliver doesn’t move. I’m not even sure he’s breathing.
“Knock it off, Cody,” Danny interjects, his voice low and angry.
“Seriously, you’re being a jerk,” Taylor adds.
Cody scoffs at them. “Oh, come on, I’m just blowing smoke. That’s what families do.” He smirks at Oliver again. “Oliver was never going to get the real story from DEADNAME, now, was he?”
“Jude,” Oliver growls.
My blood turns to ice, my skin prickling. Oh no. Oh, shit, shit, shit—
“What?” Cody asks after a beat.
“Their name is Jude,” Oliver repeats, slowly and deliberately.
My vision begins to flatten, black spots dancing at the edges.
“Who?” Cody demands.
“You know who,” Oliver snarls, his voice angrier than I’ve ever heard it.
“You just said you knew they changed their name and that they were using different pronouns, yet you refuse to give them even the slightest bit of respect. Not only that, but you’ve also been bullying them since they walked in the door, and, man, I’ve got to tell you: it’s really been pissing me off. ”
“Okay, buddy, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down,” Cody says in his cop voice.
My heart pounds in my ear, and I can no longer feel my legs. “Oliver,” I whisper, squeezing his thigh.
Oliver goes still again, then takes another breath. “My apologies. I’m… I’m not feeling well.” His voice sounds mechanical. “Where could I find your restroom?”
“Here, I’ll show you,” I blurt before standing abruptly. I fight through the numbness in my legs, determined to get Oliver out of this room and away from my family.
Unfortunately, I don’t quite make it. My knees give out, and I stumble to the floor, only a few steps from my seat. Various family members gasp.
Oliver is at my side in an instant. “Whoa, hey, are you okay?”
I nod despite my cold sweat and tingling extremities. “Sorry. Lost my balance.”
“Is she alright?” someone asks.
“I’m fine—"
Before I can argue, I’m suddenly hoisted into the air by two strong arms and cradled against Oliver’s chest. Voices shout and overlap, and my vision flickers in and out. I desperately cling to consciousness, unable to make sense of what’s happening.
“Don’t drop her!”
“I’m not going to—”
“Here, I’m a nurse, let—”
“Brian is a doctor!”
“Did she eat anything?”
“Don’t touch them—”
“Oh, god, she’s so pale—”
“Give us a minute, please!”
When I come to again, it’s quiet. Something wet and cold touches my temple, and I blink open my eyes. I’m on a bed in a dark room I soon recognize as one of the guest rooms.
Oliver gazes down at me, his brow crinkled with concern as he gently pats my face with a wet washcloth. “Hey,” he says softly. “There you are.”
“What happened?”
“I’m pretty sure you fainted,” Oliver replies. “I got some advice from Brian and Ashlynn, but I wouldn’t let them join us. I might have been a bit of an asshole about it.”