Page 18 of Only Mostly Devastated

“It’s okay, Ollie, I’ll take it from here,” Aunt Linda said. “Roy’s ready to drive you home. You’ve been here for too long already.”

“I don’t mind, really,” I said. “It’ll take me five minutes. You haven’t even taken your jacket off yet.”

That was another thing. It was eighty degrees today. No one in their right minds needed to wear a jacket in this kind of weather, but Aunt Linda always seemed to need a jacket or coat these days. The sundresses she used to live in when I was little were banished to the back of the closet.

Aunt Linda hesitated. She totally wanted to take me up on the offer. So I launched into the bedtime routine, which was pretty familiar to me these days. “Hey, Crista, finish getting into your jammies. You’re not sleeping in that shirt. Dyl, go grab your chi chi.” His chi chi was some raggedy, woolly, bacteria-filledthinghe carried around for comfort. I think it was supposed to resemble an animal, but mostly, it resembled my nightmares. To each his own.

The kids did what they were told. Like I said, they were pretty much saints. Aunt Linda told me once they weren’t always so well behaved. They seemed to sense that she needed a break.

Aunt Linda hovered, then cracked. “All right, well, Imight go put on some tea, then. Thank you, Ollie. You’ve been such a help.”

“It’s cool, really.”

She smiled and rested her head against the door frame. “I heard you playing. I’m so glad you kept it up. You’ve always been so talented.”

“Not really. I just like it. But thanks.” Even as I said it, I knew I sounded like Juliette.

“Mama, Ollie taught me how to play ‘Let It Go’ on guitar,” Crista piped up in a muffled voice as she pulled her pajama shirt over her head.

Aunt Linda shot me a look that was half sheer terror, half witch hunt. The face of someone at peakFrozensaturation.

I didn’t, I swear,I mouthed, making chopping motions by my neck.

I was saved by Dylan returning with his chi chi, which he’d apparently found in the pantry, next to the Nutella jar. Aunt Linda retreated to the kitchen, and I worked through the bedtime routine of checking under the bed for monsters (while makingzerojokes about the chi chi being the real threat) and reading the same fifty-word picture book approximately fifty times.

Dylan was out first. Crista had her eyes closed, and I thought I was ready to clock out. I’d almost made it to the door, when, “Ollie?”

So close, and yet… “Yeah?”

“When is Will going to come over again?”

Damn. Hearing his name was like being lightly shoved onto the edge of a cliff. If you’re ready for it, no harm done. If it catches you off guard, bam, over you go. Suddenly, ridiculously, I wanted to spill my heart out. To someone who’d get it. Who knew how close we’d been all summer.So I didn’t feel like I’d imagined the whole freaking thing. Even I knew that a seven-year-old didn’t make the ideal confidante for romantic issues, though, so instead I shut it down. Right down. “Will was from the lake, remember? He doesn’t live here. We can’t see him anymore.”

“Oh.” Crista rolled onto her side. “Are you sad?”

I forced a smile. “Sometimes we only get to be friends for a little while. That’s why you’ve always gotta make it count, right?”

“Right. ’Night, Ollie.”

“’Night.”

7

He looked at me.

No, I’m sure of it. There had definitely been times when I’d thought Will was looking at me, when actually it was at something behind me, or on top of me, or below me, or through me, but this time it wassuper-certainly at me.Not a drill.

Sure, it only lasted a second, but still. He’d turned away when I saw him. Way too suspicious for an accident. Plus, his table was on the opposite side of the cafeteria. If he hadn’t been staring right at me, there’s no way he would’ve even noticed me glancing back.

Breathe. Breathe, Ollie. You don’t care about Will anymore, remember? Just because it’s finally occurred to him that you’ve been existing in his vicinity for the past couple weeks does not erase his doucheyness. And it is most certainly not a marriage proposal.

“Wow, Jules, I’ve heard chewing helps,” Lara said, her fork hovering halfway to her mouth as she stared at Juliette.

Juliette shrugged, wide eyed and chipmunk cheeked. “Ree ung Awrry—”

“No, no, stop,” Niamh interrupted, holding a hand up. “Swallow. Breathe. Proceed.”

Juliette complied. When she’d finished coming up for air, she continued. “Me and Ollie are going to pick my audition song. We need as much time in the music room as we can get.”

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