by Naomi Martin
Oliva waves me off. “Don’t. I mean, would you rather be here having a good time or at her place watching documentaries about microbiology?”
I laugh. “We were actually going to watch scary movies.”
“Whatever.” She grins. “The point is the same. Isn’t being here more fun than being there?”
They both have their appeal for me, but I’m not going to tell Olivia that. I know how ridiculous it is but, deep down, there’s something inside of me that craves Olivia’s approval. I don’t know why, but I want – no, I need – her to like me. But it makes no sense to me. I’ve never been the type to seek out anybody’s approval. That’s just not my style. But for some reason, it’s different with Olivia. Something about her just makes me want to please her.
“What is it with you two, anyway?” I ask. “Why do you guys hate each other so much?”
She laughs. “I don’t hate her. I don’t ever think about her,” she says. “She’s not worthy of my time or attention.”
“You know she blames you for what Asher did to her a couple of years ago.”
“Of course she does. She blames me for everything, from the Kennedy assassination to fluffy puppy dogs dying.”
“Why, though?”
She shrugs. “Probably because she wants to be part of the in crowd at school, but knows she never will be,” she goes on. “That’s not my fault. It’s just the natural order.”
I take another swallow of my drink and consider it. Maybe Bonnie isn’t as pretty as Olivia – I know I’m not. And maybe she doesn’t come from the same kind of wealth as Olivia does – but neither do I. So, why does Bonnie get blackballed while I get a pass? That hardly seems fair.
“She’s actually a really nice person,” I tell Olivia.
She looks at me with something akin to sympathy in her eyes. Or maybe it’s just pity. Being a couple of drinks in now, I’m not entirely sure. My Spidey senses are growing a bit fuzzy around the edges.
“I’m sure she is,” Olivia replies. “But she just doesn’t – fit. She’s the square peg in the round hole of Sapphire Bay’s social hierarchy. Like I said, it’s not my fault. I didn’t make the rules.”
“But since you’re the top of the hierarchy, can’t you change the rules?” I ask. “Can’t you at least give her a chance?”
“Winter, I admire you sticking up for the girl. I think it’s sweet. But it’s not your issue to worry about,” she says firmly. “To be perfectly honest, her Mary Poppins goody-two-shoes act got real old for me a long time ago. So, now, I just don’t concern myself with her.”
I’m still sober enough to see the irritation in Olivia’s expression, and the tone of her voice tells me to just drop it. Advocating for Bonnie is the last thing I intended to do tonight, and I can see it’s wearing on Olivia’s last nerve. Clearly, if Olivia gets this irritated by a basic conversation about Bonnie, she’s not entirely beneath Olivia’s notice. Which tells me there really is something personal between them. And, if I’m being honest, it lends a little credence to Bonnie’s belief that it was Olivia who was responsible – at least partially – for what Asher did to her.
But she’s right. This is between them – it’s not my fight. The last thing I should do is involve myself in a feud between them. The mature, grown-up thing for me to remember is that I don’t have to pick and choose. I can be friends with Bonnie and I can be friends with Olivia. It’s not an either/or proposition. At least, not for me. And if one of them can’t handle that I’m friends with the other, that’s on them.
“So, can we move on from the Bonnie talk now?” Olivia asks.
“Consider the topic dropped.”
“Good. Because our evening just got a lot more interesting.”
I follow her gaze to see what she’s talking about and feel my stomach churn when I see what she’s looking at.
Chapter Eight
As if they just materialized from thin air, Asher, Owen and a guy I don’t know but who looks like a clone of Asher are standing before our table. Owen’s eyes meet mine and it feels like a charge of ten-thousand volts shoots through me. That familiar warmth I get when he talks to me in class spreads out through my body and I give him a smile.
“I believe you know Owen and Asher,” Olivia says. “This is the third of their triumvirate of evil, Samuel.”
“What’s up?” Samuel says by way of introduction.
“Hey,” I reply.
He gives me the elevator eyes, letting his gaze wander my body, and I get the distinct impression that he’s picturing me naked. I shrink back against the booth and avert my eyes, choosing instead to focus on Owen, who is still favoring me with that smile that brings out his dimples and turns my insides to goo.
“What are you guys doing here?” Asher asks.
“Same as you,” Olivia replies coolly. “Enjoying a girl’s night out.”
Asher smirks. “I see what you did there.”
“Well, you’re not as stupid as you look,” she fires back.
A strange tension crackles in the air between them as Asher’s eyes narrow with his glare while Olivia returns an expression that’s haughty. The eye contact and expressions they give each other are strange and I can’t interpret them, but I get the idea that something’s going on between those two. Something significant. Which brings to mind the way Jacqueline looked at me earlier, sending a chill through me for reasons I can’t quite comprehend.
“Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?” Asher asks Olivia.
Olivia rolls her eyes. “Do we really need to do this?”
“Afraid so,” he replies.
“Fine.” She sighs and slides out of the booth.
I watch them walk over to a quiet corner near the bar, and the conversation looks pretty tense. They’re wearing matching expressions of anger or outrage and Asher’s hand gestures seem angry.
“What’s going on over there?” I ask.
Owen slides into the booth, sitting close to my side, and smiles while Samuel sits across from me. He just shrugs. “They’re always arguing about something.”
“They used to date,” Samuel adds. “Their relationship was pretty much like that. All three weeks of it.”
I laugh despite myself. I can see their relationship being as stormy as their friendship seems to be. Both are stubborn, hot-tempered, and are clearly alphas in their respective social groups. I guess the troubles come when those groups cross over. There’s only room for one alpha – which is probably what leads to them clashing.
Owen nudges me with his knee, his smile seeming to light up the entire room. I turn and give him a smile in return.
“I’m glad to see you here,” he says. “Surprised as hell, but glad.”
“Why are you so surprised?”
He and Samuel exchange another one of those indecipherable looks, which are beginning to irritate me. He frowns a bit but then recovers, giving me a small shrug as that smile curls his lips again.
“Olivia just doesn’t bring people around here very often,” he explains. “I guess she must really like you.”
The conversation between Asher and Olivia seems to be getting pretty heated so Samuel slips out of the booth and walks over them, ostensibly to keep the peace. But Owen stays where he is, still smiling at me. He reaches out and gently tugs on my hair.
“It looks nice down,” he tells me. “You should wear it down more often.”
My cheeks are burning and a grin I’m sure looks absolutely stupid creeps across my face. For not being the sort of vapid bimbo who gets even more stupid around handsome boys, I sure do seem to act the part pretty well.
“Thanks,” is all I can think to say.
“So, what do you think of Blackjacks?” he asks.
“It’s surprising. I mean, there are a lot of underage kids in here drinking and stuff.”
“Drinking. Drugs.” He points to a small cluster of kids that look around our age, standing in a corner sniffing coke off tiny spoons. “Any vice you can think of,
you can get here.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”
A small frown crosses his lips. “Yeah, me either.”
“I don’t recognize most of the kids in here,” I admit. “Do they all go to Sapphire Bay?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. They come in from all over the county. Blackjacks is kind of an open secret in the right circles.”
“Wow, I don’t know that I’ve ever been in the right circles before.”
“I don’t know that you are now,” he replies.
It’s a weird thing to say and there’s a strange, almost sad tone in his voice that makes me curious. I want to ask him about it, but Olivia picks that moment to slide back into the booth with us. I glance over to see Samuel talking to Asher, as if he’s trying to calm him down or something. Asher casts one last baleful look at Olivia and then stalks off into the crowd, with Samuel hot on his heels.
“What was that about?” I ask.
Olivia rolls her eyes and frowns. “Just Asher being Asher. He’s not happy unless he’s the one in control of everything.”
“Maybe you should let him be,” says Owen, a hard edge in his voice.
The moment is packed with a crackling tension that borders on outright hostility, and I’m dead certain there’s a lot of information and backstory I’m not privy to right now. Owen and Olivia are staring hard at one another. I don’t get the idea that this is a sexist, Asher-the-man-should-be-in-charge-of-things standoff between them. Although Olivia has her chin lifted and a defiant gleam in her eye, when I look at Owen, I see something like concern etched into his features – concern for her. Which only adds to the already thick layers of mystery and frustration for me.
“I’ll be fine,” Olivia snaps, her voice as cold and brittle as ice. “I can handle this.”
Owen lets out a long, frustrated breath. “Olivia–”
“Drop it, Owen.” She stares at him. “Just drop it.”
“Is there something going on I should know about?” I ask.
Both of them turn to me as if they’d practiced it. “No,” they say in unison.
“Ooooookay.” I take a swallow of my cosmo.
We sit in a silence still pregnant with tension and I’m getting more and more uncomfortable by the moment. There is definitely something going on behind the scenes and whatever it is, it’s causing some serious friction between the boys and Olivia. But then she looks over at the crowd and a wide smile crosses her face. She turns back to me with a strange light shining in her eyes, suddenly exuding excitement.
“He’s here.” She beams.
“Who?”
“Her latest bang buddy,” Owen clarifies.
“For your information, there is something very real developing between us,” she tells him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go say hello. Owen, I believe I can at least trust you to watch over Winter?”
“Gladly.”
She’s out of the booth and streaking toward a man in a three-piece suit before Owen even finishes the word. I watch as Olivia throws her arms around the back of the man’s neck and presses her mouth to his, kissing him deeply. He wraps his arms around Olivia and kisses her in return.
“That man has to be twice her age,” I remark.
“At least,” replies Owen.
The man has a head of salt-and-pepper hair and appears to be an impeccable dresser. His suit is designer, well-tailored, and probably cost more than some people make in a year. He has an air of sophistication and a presence about him that can’t be denied. But still – he’s old enough to be Olivia’s father.
“I’m gonna say that guy’s probably the CEO of a Fortune 500 company,” I venture.
“Close. Hedge fund manager,” Owen says. “Dude’s got more money than God.”
They stand there, kissing in front of everybody, clearly unashamed of their age discrepancy, and he slips a hand beneath her skirt. I feel a wave of revulsion wash over me. Olivia’s head rolls back and her lips are parted, the picture of ecstasy as the man works his fingers beneath her skirt.
“Seriously?” I say, unable to help myself.
“Like I said, any vice can be had here,” Owen points out.
“Or any deviancy.”
“That, too.” He chuckles.
The man takes Olivia’s hand and leads her back through the crowd, toward an area of the club that’s separated by velvet ropes. A man that looks like he was built out of concrete is on the other side, standing beside the mouth of a hallway. The man leading Olivia hands the human statue something I can only assume is cash, and they disappear down the hallway.
“What’s back there?” I ask.
“Those are the private rooms,” Owen tells me. “Anything goes in there.”
“Well, this club just gets more interesting by the minute,” I say wryly.
“Maybe not the word I’d choose,” he replies. “But as good as any, I suppose.”
He has that strange tone in his voice again that has me curious. But when I look at him, I can see how closed off he is. His face is a mask of cool indifference, and I know that if I were to question him about – whatever it is – he’d rebuff me. Part of me is wondering if he has a thing for Olivia and is angry and/or jealous that she’s screwing some older guy – and isn’t being shy about it. I make a mental note to ask him about it later.
“Hey, are you okay?” I say now.
He gives his head a little shake, seeming to snap out of it as he turns to me. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”
“You can talk to me, you know,” I offer.
“I appreciate it, but everything’s cool.” His smile is tight and doesn’t reach his eyes. “Promise.”
There’s clearly something wrong, but I don’t want to push it. Owen turns to me, an apologetic smile on his face. “I believe you,” I assure him.
The silence between us is awkward and we’re both left sitting there, staring at each other, neither one of us seemingly knowing what to say to the other. I can’t say I’ve ever been in a situation this strained with a boy before. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and most of the interactions I’ve had with guys have been… transactional. We both got something we needed and then parted company.
So, sitting here next to Owen, my heart spinning and a whispered sense of expectation hanging in the air between us, is something of a new experience for me. It’s awkward and strange, but I can’t say it’s entirely unpleasant. In some ways, it’s like staring at a wrapped present. It’s that sense of expectation and the waiting that make it so utterly satisfying when you finally do get to open it.
I don’t know where this thing with Owen is going. I don’t know if it’s actually going anywhere. But there’s no doubt there’s something between us; I can feel it. He’s staring into my eyes, making my entire body tremble with anticipation. I lick my suddenly dry lips, staring at his mouth, wishing for nothing more in the moment to feel it pressed to mine.
I see the hunger in Owen’s eyes and, as his body moves slightly forward, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me. But then he hesitates and pulls back, letting the moment pass. I don’t know why he didn’t kiss me or why he’s got a suddenly shy expression on his face, but it’s adorable.
“Listen,” he says softly, “I’d love to take you out. Just you and me. What do you think?”
My heart swells to the point where it feels like it might burst, but I try to control the emotion on my face. I don’t want to look too eager, after all, so I give him a small nod.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” I answer.
“Great.” He smiles.
“Great,” I echo.
I pat myself on the back for remaining outwardly cool, even though my insides are churning like mad. Maybe it’s the air in Sapphire Bay, but I really am starting to feel like a vapid, giggly schoolgirl.
Chapter Nine
“Well, you’ve been a busy girl lately,” Bonnie remarks.
I can’t ignore the note of bitterness in her voice as she sits down at
what has become our spot beneath the tree in the quad. I pull a piece off my sandwich and pop it into my mouth.
“Sorry,” I tell her. “I’ve had a lot going on.”
“I can tell.”
She takes everything out of her lunch bag in a sullen silence, being incredibly passive aggressive. I get why she’s upset. Ever since I started hanging out with Olivia, I haven’t been as available to hang out with her. It obviously hasn’t gone unnoticed. To my credit, though, since that first night at Blackjacks with Olivia, I haven’t lied to Bonnie. I’ve been honest and I have spent what time I have available with her. It’s just apparently not enough time for Bonnie’s liking, which irritates me. She’s acting like I’m not allowed to have any friends but her.
“So, are we still on to study tomorrow night?” I ask, just to remind her that I do, in fact, make plans to spend time with her.
“Yeah, sure.”
I sigh and chew on my sandwich, wondering how I can draw her out of her sullen, pouty shell. Part of me is fighting the temptation to just get up and go have lunch with Olivia. At least she doesn’t give me shit about being friends with Bonnie. While she’s made it clear that she’s never going to be Bonnie’s BFF and they won’t be hanging out anytime soon, she at least seems to have the maturity to understand that I can have friends other than her and doesn’t give me shit about it. Bonnie is making it extremely difficult to like her, let alone remember why I even bother hanging out with her, right about now.
I silently chastise myself the second those thoughts go through my head. They aren’t kind. Bonnie is my friend, and I love her dearly. But sometimes, her insecurities and petty jealousies are difficult to deal with.
“Hey, there’s a new Caravaggio exhibit opening up at the museum in Carmel next week,” I mention. “We should go check it out. Make a day of it.”
It’s maybe dealing from the bottom of the deck, because I know how much she loves art and I’m playing to her interests. But if it will shake her out of this malaise she’s been in and make her feel a bit better about our friendship, I’m not above a bit of bribery. Besides, it’s something I’ve been wanting to see, too – and I know Olivia wouldn’t deign to go take it in with me – so it’s a bit self-serving. But, hey, it’s something Bonnie and I will both equally enjoy so I call it a win-win.
