Liv, Trey, and Marcus don’t say much about her or our connection, but I know there’s something there, there’s no way this feeling is made up.
I step off to the side for pictures after my signing, and I see her, or at least I think I see her. It was for a second, her beautiful dirty blond hair catching my attention as she turns the corner, and I instantly feel better knowing she might have been here.
-April 15th-
“Oww, Liv! Will you knock it off!”
“No! I told you I was gonna knock some sense into you one way or another, and since this is the only way Presley will allow me to get involved, I’ve gotta take what I can get.” Liv’s hands quickly fly to her mouth to stop the word vomit flowing out of it.
Her eyes aren’t the only ones that have widened as Trey and Marcus look at her.
“Liv, shut up!” Marcus scolded.
“What do you mean, allowed?”
“She misspoke,” Trey quickly said through clenched teeth as his eye bared into Liv.
Has she been calling the shots on this? Preventing me from getting any answers? This timid, shy little thing, who seemed content to blend into the background has been calling the shots for the last two and a half weeks? All it’s gotten me is a bruise on the backside of my head and an unsettled feeling. Now, knowing there’s more, but not being able to get it?
“Olivia—tell me now.”
Liv slams her hands down on the table and matches my glare. “I told you what it would take to get me to stop. All you had to do was go over and ask her to sit with us, and you didn’t. So, if you want to be pissed at someone, be pissed at yourself. And will you please fucking break up with your little homewrecker already? Can't you see NOBODY likes her.”
“Yea, well—she’s the only one that’s been honest with me. She’s the only one that has filled in the last seven months of my life. Some friends you are.”
Heather is smiling like a proud peacock, but her usefulness is wearing on me. She tells me things, but none of it feels right. If, I’ve only forgotten stuff with Presley in it, then why can't I remember anything she’s told me we’ve done.
“Has she Robert? Has she really been telling you what you missed, or are you just eager to fill the void with something, you’re dumb enough to believe her? Think about it. If you had done whatever she says you did with her, don’t you think you would have remembered any of it?”
I look at Heather, and she seems a little too eager to get away from the table, so I let her go. I sit there, leaned back far in my chair, my eyes glued to the light grey vinyl top. It’s cracked and peeling up around the edges from years of use. Shit.
“You can apologize for your mantrum whenever you’re ready, I’ll wait, but that girl out there, the one you so desperately need to talk to, she won't be. She’s patient, but you weren’t the only one hurt that day. She will only wait so long. So, like I keep telling you, don’t fuck this up, Robert.”
Liv, Trey, and Marcus get up, leaving me alone as my eyes drift out to Presley. I’ve always taken the seat with a direct line of sight to her. Every day is the same: she says her hellos and goes outside, sets her lunch down, takes out a notebook, stares at the pages until the bell rings, slides it back in her backpack, throws her lunch away because she hasn’t touched it, and then goes to class. Tomorrow everything changes. Maybe. Maybe I’ll grow a pair and talk to the woman who seems to hold all the answers.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The halls have been relatively quiet today. Liv isn’t at our lunch table when I get there, only Heather and Trey. I don’t even acknowledge her.
“Where’s Liv?” I ask him.
“Choir competition.”
“Oh. You won't see Presley either, in case you were wondering.”
“He wasn’t,” Heather snapped back as she ran her fingers against my hair.
“Why are you still here?” I say as I pull back from her.
“Silly Bricee.”
“It’s Robert. I haven’t been Brice in a long time. And I think we’re through here, Heather.”
“Excuse me? Are you breaking up with me?” Shock settles deep within her.
“See the thing is, you have to be dating to break up with someone, and I don’t think that’s what was going on. I think you’ve been using me for some unknown reason. I don’t remember a single damn thing that you’ve said happening. The only thing that happens when I’m around you, is that I become more confused, not less. So, I think it’s time you left.”
Marcus has joined us, and he and Trey are grinning like two fools, while Heather storms off in a fit of fury. I kinda feel bad for wanting to laugh, but as soon as she’s out of sight, the three of us are cutting up.
“Man, Liv would be so proud of you,” Trey says as he pretends to wipe tears from his eyes. “You know she was crazy enough to think you two were going to prom together.”
“I completely forgot about prom. Did I ask someone?”
Marcus and Trey look hesitantly at each other.
“I asked Presley, didn’t I?”
They both sit stoically, not giving anything away.
“Will you two quit being pussys and fucking give me a god damn answer? Liv’s not here. Presley’s not here, and I’ve fucked up enough shit in the last few weeks with having Heather around my neck to last a lifetime. Now give me an answer.”
“Jesus, man. All you had to do was ask nicely.”
“Yeah. No reason to turn into the fucking Hulk over this.”
“Do you think she expects me to take her to prom?”
“Well, considering prom’s in a week, and you haven’t talked to her, I’d say you’re off the hook.”
Shit. I wasn’t looking to get out of taking her to prom; I honestly didn’t know—just another thing which should have been a big fucking trigger. I didn’t remember prom, which should have automatically told me I asked her.
“How did I ask her?”
“Dude. It was over the top. Liv was pissed at me for a few days.”
“How?”
“You filled her entire house with roses, spent a fortune on it, and then came down the hall carrying another bouquet with a baseball stuffed inside—the word prom was written with a question mark behind it.”
“That’s it? I can recreate that.”
“Not that you could have planned it, but she also found out her dad was alive and was coming home as well.”
“Alive?”
“He’s Special Ops, man. He went missing before Christmas. Besides, I don’t think Presley would appreciate you just recreating something. It wouldn’t mean anything to you.”
“But it would make her happy.”
“But you don’t know her. She’s a stranger to you. She’s not like Heather who’s superficial. Presley is—” Marcus stops his train of thought and trails off.
“She’s what?”
“She’s one in a million.”
“God, she is. In fact, when she first met you, she didn’t give two shits about your status here at this school. I was in love with her from day one.”