Page 82 of Olivia's Only Pretending
My phone rang in the night, after an already fitful couple of hours of sleep, startling me awake in my fluffy bed. I patted around on my nightstand, with my eyes still closed, until I found my phone and pulled it under the duvet to my cheek.
“Hello?” I mumbled, my mouth dry from sleep.
“Olivia, it’s me.” Gracie’s voice was small, tired. I blinked at my phone—2:07 a.m.
“Gracie,” I said, sitting up, suddenly alert. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “Mostly. Austin and I had a long, tearful talk, and I’m so confused.”
I rubbed my eyes. “Tell me about the talk. What happened?”
“Austin and I have been talking again, as you know. We’ve also hung out here and there. We were sort of acting like we’re old friends who wanted to catch up. I guess we were trying our best to avoid having the talk we had tonight.” I could imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose, eyes closed in frustration. “Maybe I was fooling myself that I wasn’t hoping we’d find our way back.” She took in a deep sigh. I waited for her to continue. “Last night, we were with a bunch of friends watching movies and eating fast food. After everyone left, he stayed behind. We started talking about our lives, and it progressed into talkingaboutus.We admitted that there was still something between us.”
It seemed as though two Rhodes sisters were having tearful conversations tonight.
“You talked about your feelings, but did you also talk about your history?”
“Of course.” Her voice broke. “That’s when the tears happened. He says he wasn’t ready then, but he’s ready now.”
“Hasn’t he said that before, though?” I was pretty sure I’d asked this question about Austin so many times before.
“Yeah,” she groaned. “I just wish he meant it.”
It was quiet for a minute. I switched on the lamp. “Why did you call me?”
“You’re my big sister,” she said. “I need sage advice. Wisdom from my elders.”
“Maybe you also knew what I would say. Maybe part of you wants me to remind you that he’s said all this before. You two have sat on that very couch and talked about your feelings, over and over again. And it always ends the same.”
“Do you think …” Her voice trailed off. She already knew what I thought.
“Did he even say he wanted to make it official and give a real relationship a try?”
She cleared her throat. “Sort of.” Which, from conversations past, meant he’d admitted to feelings and wanting all the relationship benefits sans any of the relationship commitments. “We kind of got stuck talking about our problems from the past.”
“Should we call Lucy and add her to our conversation?” I offered, knowing full well that Lucy was even more intense than I was at giving it to Gracie straight.
“No, no. It’s late, and she has to deal with rowdy five-year-olds tomorrow,” she said.
I winced. Lucy would be handling a room full of kindergartners in five hours.
I pulled the duvet up under my chin. “Gracie, you know Austin. You know what a relationship with him looks like. You don’t need me to tell you any of this.”
“Actually, Idoneed you to tell me this. It’s easy to get lost in the fog of my feelings and the sweet—like, you have no idea how sweet—things he says. I question if I’m being dramatic about our history. If I’m not giving him enough credit for how he’s grown. I start to doubt my own instincts,” she said. “That’s why I call you up, even if it’s two a.m. I need my sounding board.”
I thought of my own emotional, tearful talk with Victor only hours ago. How easy it was for me to get lost in the fog of my own feelings—feelings of fear and doubt—and lose sight of what’s right in front of me, forgetting my own instincts.
Yet, I didn’t call anyone up.
I always sat in it alone, turning off the light and wiping my tears as I fell asleep, never calling up my sisters to have a sounding board to talk me through it.
I always answered their middle-of-the-night phone calls, but I never made those calls myself.
What would Gracie say if I told her about my kiss with Victor? I opened my mouth to share, but the words stayed heavy on my tongue. Instead, my lips formed a firm line.
Gracie started talking again, sniffling on her end of the line.
It was so late. And Gracie had her own problems. And I could handle my problems myself. It was the way I knew best, anyway. Why heap onto Gracie’s bad night? It was better to just listen to her and deal with my stuff another time.
