Page 41 of Waking Olivia

"C'mon," he says, pressing his hand to the small of my back. He leads me into the yard, grabbing us more beer on the way.

His name is Evan, and I find something about him specifically appealing. He's tall and well-built—too muscular to run track but too lean to play football. Sort of like Will.

One minute we’re in the backyard talking and the next we’re in someone’s room. I guess I’ve had more to drink than I thought, but that’s okay. There's a very specific memory I need to rid myself of, a specific memory that won't go away no matter what I do to excise it, so my aim now is to replace. Evan kisses me and I feel nothing. His hand slides under my shirt, into my bra, and I wait for it to end, like sitting through a movie you really aren't enjoying. My satisfaction only comes from how much progress we've made, how close it is to being over. And then his hand moves to my jeans and I fly off the bed, panicked.

"I'm sorry," he says, his eyes wide with surprise. "I thought it was okay."

"I can't," I gasp. "I'm sorry. I thought I could, but I can't."

He was nice about it. Far nicer than Mark Bell would have been under the same circumstances. But then Mark didn't ask.

And he didn't stop until I made him.

29

Will

Ican’t shakewhat Olivia told me after the meet. How could her parents have done that to a six-year-old? I’m furious at people I’ve never met because they created the mess she’s in now.It’s their faultshe’s having these nightmares, that she’s putting her life at risk when she has one.It’s their faultshe’s forced to survive off stipends and loans, hoping to God she can hold on to her scholarship.

Jessica and I go out to dinner then watch TV after. “You’re distracted,” she says. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I lie. “Just a long day.”

But that’s not really it. I’m pissed off on Olivia’s behalf, but it’s more than that. I feel oddly unsatisfied tonight. Jessica and I ate at a restaurant I chose and are now watching a movie I’ve been wanting to see, but it feels empty, like a meal that can’t satisfy me no matter how much I consume.

And it wasn’t like that last night.

I bickered with Olivia while we watched a TV show I didn’t want to watch in the first place, and when it was time to go to sleep, I wished it wasn’t. But right now, with my girlfriend, I just want the night to be over.

Later we'rein bed and Jessica's beneath me. I'm trying to focus on her but every time I close my eyes all I see is Olivia, asleep face down in my bed, the sheet twisted around her waist, her hair spread over my pillow, her back bare.

The moment she sat up and the sheet slid away.

That last image appears unbidden and I finish with a hoarse cry of surprise, ashamed of myself even as it happens.

Jessica curls up against my side, but it’s Olivia in my head once more as I remember last night, the way it felt to have her tucked in my arms. I stayed with her until her tears stopped, and it seemed like the right thing to do even though, at the very same moment, it seemed as wrong as anything I’d ever done in my life.

Because I liked it.

Because I wanted to stay.

And right now, with Jessica, I’m counting the seconds until I can leave. The same way I always do.

After practice on Monday, I get a text from Jeff Jordan, one of the assistant football coaches. He needs to “chat”.Fuck. A meeting with one of the football coaches is never good. They never want to give you anything, and they’re often looking to take something away. And the sad truth is that at this school—at almost any school—football trumps track every time.

"We had a fight this weekend," he tells me instead. "Two players. Our defensive end is out the rest of the season with a broken hand."

"Yeah?" I'm still not seeing what this could possibly have to do with me, which of our meager resources he’s going to ask us to give up to fix this.

"Apparently it was over one of your girls."

Before he’s said another word, I knowexactlywhich girl he’s talking about.

He tells me the version he’s heard from members of the team: Olivia, bouncing back and forth between a running back and a defensive end, laughing when they got mad at each other, dirty dancing with the one whowasn’ther date. Sure, the story is one-sided. Sure, I should hear Olivia’s version. Except it’s so goddamn easy to imagine her laughing about it, to imagine her knowing good and well she was causing a problem and giving them both that insouciant little smirk she gives when she wants you to understand you’re not the boss of her.

And none of it is nearly as infuriating as the story’s conclusion, in which Olivia takes off with some other guy at the end. For some reason, it'sthisthat truly has me seeing red. Sheleftwith one of them? What the hell is she thinking? Did she even know the guy?

"Now I've got one guy out, and half the team taking sides. It's a complete clusterfuck."

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