Page 43 of Waking Olivia

"I want to take you out," he says.

"We tried that already, remember?"

"That wasn't taking you out. That was hooking up."

"Let's cut to the chase," I say bluntly, lifting my head. "You seem like a nice enough guy, but the truth of the matter is that you're only here because you're hoping if you buy me dinner I'll sleep with you."

"That is not even vaguely close to the truth," he says, and I have to admit he looks a little offended. "How about this: go out with me, on a real date, and I won't even try to kiss you at the end of it."

"What would you get out of it?" I ask.

"Finn, you're the hottest girl on this campus. Hell, you've got to be the hottest girl in the state for that matter. And you're pretty fun when you're not telling me to fuck off. That's what I'd get out of it."

"I don't really date.”

"Why not?"

"It's just not my thing.”

"You don't like food?" he asks. "You don't like movies? Going to see a band?"

I shrug. “I suppose.”

"So are you saying that you're positive you'd have less fun doing them with me than you would doing them alone? Like tomorrow night, for instance, would you have more fun making ramen noodles in your apartment and watchingProject Runwaythan you would going to a restaurant with me?"

"I don't watchProject Runway."

He laughs. "You're avoiding the question."

I almost smile. "I'll have to think about it."

He starts eating. "You think. I'm just gonna eat my breakfast."

"I didn't mean I was going to think about itnow," I argue. "It's not a snap decision."

“Well, I'm still going to eat here. So just pretend I'm your buddy. Your super-hot buddy who you secretly want to date."

I allow myself a small laugh. I’m not going out with him.I’m not.But I can’t say it’s the worst offer I’ve ever heard.

31

Will

Iwas out of line. My anger, my reaction …

It was entirely wrong.

I know this because I’ve forced myself to imagine it, and if it were Betsy or Hannah or any other girl on the team who got drunk and caused a fight, and I know my reaction wouldn’t have been the same. I know I’d have put the blame squarely where it lies: with the two idiots who fought. But it wasn’t Betsy or Hannah, it was Olivia, who seems to do something to me that no one else does. The part that angered me most didn’t involve the fight. It involved her leaving with someone.

I know I need to pull back, and I spend the rest of the week doing just that. I don’t speak to her unless I have to. I don’t evenlookat her unless I have to. Maybe I’m doing her a disservice as her coach, by not spending the same amount of time on her. But I’m doing her a greater disservice by getting invested in the wrong way.

By the next week, however, she makes sure I can’t ignore her anymore.

On Tuesday afternoon, I can tell she’s off. She gets through four 800s but there's something distant in her face, fading. She was tired at this morning's workout too. There's a look on her face on days like this, days when she's pushed herself beyond what her body is willing to provide, and it's there now. Grim determination, the face of someone who would rather die than give up.

At the end of the fifth 800, I can no longer stand to watch. I call out to her, she turns toward me, and I know by the panicked look in her eyes as they meet mine and the way the color has left her face that she's going to pass out. I'm sprinting toward her before she's even begun to fall.

She collapses right where she stands. I was worried the last time this happened, but now it’s a different sort of thing, bordering on panic. I know she’s only fainted, but a million other possibilities run through my head anyway. The whole team is hovering around her when she finally opens her eyes.

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