Page 101 of Fly with Me

Olive came out of the shower. She was finally blessedly clean, with her head feeling clearer than it had in a week since the slight cough went to her chest and exploded into misery. She wore her coziest pajamas, which consisted of a concert T-shirt she’d stolen from Derek in high school over her most stretched-out sports bra paired with threadbare thermal pants. Her wild, wet curls were dampening the neck of the T-shirt. She’d barely bothered to finger-comb them, and her head was still throbbing too much to pull them into a tight bun. Certainly not come-hither attire, but she was sick, goddamn it.

Stella stood in the bedroom, pointing to things as if she were checking off items from an invisible checklist. She’d taken her hoodie off and was just wearing a tank top. “I changed your sheets. They were a mess, probably because of the fevers. I organized all your medications, so it’ll be obvious which ones you need to take on a schedule and the as-needed ones. I also changed the water in your humidifier and topped off your ginger ale with ice and a new straw. There’s two more cans of soup on the counter, but I thought maybe I could bring you back something.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I was a mess when you got here. Fever plus codeine appears to have an interesting effect on me. You didn’t have to do all this.” Olive gestured to the much neater room.

“I wanted to.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“What?”

“I was thinking a lot this week. Mainly because I was so sick I couldn’t do much else other than binge Selling Sunset and think between coughing fits.”

“I hate that I wasn’t here to help you earlier.”

“That’s the thing.”

“What’s wrong?” There was a panicked look in Stella’s eyes that Olive did not like at all, but she couldn’t lose her resolve. “We don’t have to talk about anything right now if you’re still feeling terrible.”

Olive scrunched her damp curls, absentmindedly. “I’m feeling a lot better now that the fever’s gone and the codeine’s worn off. I need to say something now or else I’ll lose my nerve.”

“Your nerve?” Stella said in a soft voice.

“I don’t want to be sick and wonder if I can call you.” Olive rubbed the spot on her head that kept aching.

“Neither do I. You can always call me.”

“When you’re here doing really nice things for me… I’m having trouble remembering what’s real, and what’s fake.” She shut her mouth and clasped her hands in her lap. “And maybe I’m still a little high.”

“What’s… real?” Stella’s dark eyebrows pulled together, the wrinkle between them becoming a crevice.

“Do you like me?”

Stella sat very still, shoulders slumped, knees locked tight. “I do like you, Olive.”

“I know I’m not in the best state to be propositioning anyone right now. But I’m not sure what this means.” Olive adjusted the collar of her T-shirt. “This.” She gestured to the space between them.

“It means I’m… just happy with the way things are. I don’t want to hurt you. I really, really don’t want to hurt you. I know how I can be.” Stella fidgeted with her hands, as if she were checking that her nail polish wasn’t chipped.

She kept saying things like that, but here she was being attentive and caring and all the things she said she never was with her exes. Olive was too sick to be anything other than confused by it.

“Isn’t friends easier?” Stella seemed to be focusing her eyes on anything except Olive. “We both have a lot going on right now.”

Olive sucked in a breath through her nose. Her brain did still feel hazy. “So, we’re friends. Friends who make out. I mean, we made out after the banquet. Then we never talked about it again.”

“Friends can make out.”

“Can they?” Olive sipped her ginger ale, mainly because she was too chicken to look Stella in the eye.

“We’re two consenting adults, Olive. We can do whatever we want. The most important question to my mind is are you okay with what we’re doing? After we kissed after the banquet, I got really worried I was sending you mixed signals, but then at the bar… I don’t know what came over me. Since then I’ve just been trying to figure things out too.” Stella’s cheeks turned pink. “I didn’t want to do anything else that would confuse you. Or confuse me. I know myself, and I really can’t do the relationship thing with expectations and it just kills me to think that it might look like I’m intentionally messing with your head or being—”

“Stella.” Olive grabbed one of Stella’s warm soft hands and held on. “I don’t think that. I am okay with what we’re doing. I just wanted to check in about rules and expectations… and whatever.” It would be nice if the whatever could include more making out.

Weirdly, she wasn’t lying. Despite all of Derek’s concerns, she was okay with it. It wasn’t like she had been desperate for a girlfriend. After Lindsay, she’d specifically not wanted anything serious again for a while. She’d wanted space to figure out her family shit and get her anxiety and panic attacks under control. Having Stella in her life made her happy. So what if they called it friends. Did it matter?

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