Page 13 of Baby, It's You
Olive
Istare at my haunting reflection in the mirror and wince as I attempt to apply concealer to the dark purple bruises blooming around my nose and eyes. Last night was a shit show, to say the least. I decided to egg on and taunt that hot guy by teasing him to do something crazier than he was with the beer can and pool ball. Look at where it got me. Now I get to walk around getting concerned glances from everyone that passes.
I can’t even imagine the crap Tripp is going to give me when he sees my face. “That’s not part of the uniform, Olive,”I think to myself, his stupid, nasally voice ringing in my ears. After he hears about last night’s debacle and the fact that we didn’t even end up having karaoke at thekaraoke nightbecause I hid in the office until we closed, I know he will try to end that tradition, too. I was so embarrassed, though; I couldn’t go back out while that hot guy was still there.
I exit my apartment and jog down the steps to Ivy’s place below. Before I can even knock on her door, it swings open.
“Holy shit,” she says, looking at my face.
“That bad?” I respond.
“I’m not gonna lie to you. It's bad. Are you sure it's not broken?”
“I don’t think it is. I did anis my nose brokenquiz on google last night and my results werelikely not broken. Even if it is, there's nothing I can do about it. You know I have no insurance, and my car is eating at the little savings I have. The hole in my finances only gets larger every single time it breaks down.”
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t deck that guy in the face after he threw that chair at you.” Ivy puts her hands on her hips. She has always had a flair for the dramatic. She turns mole hills into mountains when she describes anything. I don’t mind it, though; she keeps things interesting.
“One, I told you that it was an accident. Two, he didn’t throw it at me. And three, he was mortified after. I had to get away.” I called her last night as I was hiding out in the office and she lost her mind, wanting to come up to the bar and “fight the guy” for me.
“Still sounds suspicious to me,” she scoffs, and then murmurs to herself, “What a creep.”
I conveniently left out the part about how attractive he was, knowing I would never hear the end of it from Ivy if I did. I never find guys worth thinking about twice, so she would go bonkers if she knew someone caught my eye. Ivy is always trying to push me to go on dates. After how awkward last night was, I hope I never see him again. I smiled at the guy withblooddripping down my teeth. He was probably disgusted.
I try to change the subject and notice something in the background. I peek behind Ivy and see a bunch of cardboard boxes are out. No way.
“Ivy?” I say, my voice rising. “Are youkicking him out?!”
“Yup. I’m seriously done this time.”
“Stop.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “I’m going to scream.”
“I can’t do it anymore, Olive, I mean it. I really am done. I’m done uprooting my life for a man that can't even spell orange.”
“That’s a joke, right?” I ask as I grab her and pull her into a hug.
“He really issodumb,” she whispers into my ear.
I pull away and hold the sides of her petite face in my hands. “I have wanted this so badly for you. You are going to thrive without him!”
“I know,” she says confidently. Then she pulls back from me and straightens her sports bra. “Now I just need someone to come get his shit. I refuse to let him step foot back in this place. I’m not going to give him a chance to gaslight me again.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“Yes, I know.” She smiles at me.
Suddenly, I hear myten minutes till shiftalarm blare in my pocket. I look down at my phone and realize I’m yet again about to be late for work. I don’t know what's been going on with me recently, but I need to get it together.
“I hate to leave you hanging like this but I'm about to be late,” I tell her.
“Go!” she responds, and begins to shoo me away. “You can text me later.”
I give her a quick second hug goodbye and then I sprint to my car.
When I pull up to work, I am pleasantly surprised that Tripp isn’t here yet. I smile to myself, thinking about how this morning has been great so far. No more Dennis and temporarily no Tripp.
I whistle to myself as I get out of my car and walk in the back door. I greet Rob, who is slicing tomatoes and also does a double take when he sees my face.
“Not a word aboutit,” I tell him and he reluctantly complies.
