Page 51 of Fly with Me

Also, Lindsay was almost certainly right about Stella breaking Olive’s heart one day. Olive didn’t need to bring that up though.

Derek sighed.

This kind of conversation with Lindsay sent Olive to a dark place. She pushed the binder on the coffee table and threw the beer bottle into her recycling bin. “It’s always the same.” She lowered her voice to a level Derek couldn’t hear. “I might as well enjoy this while it lasts.”

She sat back down and grabbed the thick three-ring binder. She flipped to the page with the questionnaire and pulled it out from the clear page protector. She hadn’t noticed before that Stella had already filled out a copy about herself in her elegant cursive.

“Still there, Olive?”

Some mix of the alcohol and the exhaustion sent her into a fit of hysterical laughter as she read over the questionnaire. “Oh, I’m still here, so… I need your opinion on something…”

She was still laughing later when she may have sent out a few ill-advised drunk texts.

Chapter 19

STELLA

Getting killed by a meteorite. Getting mauled by a bear. Being born with an extra finger or toe.

OLIVE

Is this a riddle or the most disturbing game ever of would you rather?

She waited for a response, but since Stella’s text had come in at 4:30 A.M. (an ungodly hour and a half before Olive’s alarm went off), who knew when she’d get back to her. She peeled herself out of bed and turned on the shower. A few minutes into the shower, she leaned out to check if Stella had texted back.

Nope.

After giving Gus a quick walk, she got ready and drove the ten minutes to a parking space at the hospital. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She grabbed it with enough force that it Frisbeed out of her hand and into the back seat. She went to reach for it and then the car inched forward in the space.

“Fuck.” She slammed on the brake and pushed the gearshift into park before diving into the back seat to fumble for the stupid phone.

DEREK

How’s the Stella-hangover. I hope you didn’t actually send those texts.

Olive made a sound very similar to a growl and then froze.

The texts?

Oh shit.

Had she sent the texts?

She swiped back to Stella’s message and scrolled up.

OLIVE

I’m reading over this questionnaire, and I think this is all just an ill-disguised attempt to psychoanalyze me.

Oh no…

OLIVE

For example, when I find out from your questionnaire answers that you speak three languages, should I lie on my own questionnaire because I am so incredibly turned on/intimidated by your excellent linguistic credentials or should I be honest?

Oh god, she had actually typed out the words turned on… about Stella being a polyglot. Olive had truly out-Murphyed herself.

Don’t drink and text beautiful women. Don’t drink and text beautiful women. Don’t drink and text beautiful women.

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