Nemesis

by Skye McDonald

  …Don’t make things weird indeed. We had two more months of living together. I crooked a smile and lowered my shoulders in a strange and silent truce. Liv nodded once and passed me the bowl.

  Instead of going back to the TV, though, she pulled her hair into a high ponytail and tucked her legs on the far cushion, angling her shoulders toward me a bit. I didn’t give a damn about the show anymore. I shifted to face her, too. She jutted her jaw, a silent invitation for me to start a conversation.

  My brain raced through a dozen potential topics, but one was most on my mind. “I’m curious. What does it mean to trip balls?”

  She laughed. “It just means you’re high AF.”

  I stared.

  “Oh, um, high as fuck. Usually like on acid or whatever.”

  “I see. So, what’s that like?”

  My brows pinched together because I knew too well that I sounded like a pathetic nerd. No one I knew used such slang, so how could I be expected to keep up? It wasn’t my fault I’d gone from a “drugs are evil” upbringing to a workaholic adulthood.

  But Liv didn’t laugh at me. “I don’t know.”

  “Oh?”

  She shrugged and flashed a cheeky smile, putting on a strange, cartoonish accent. “Don’t do drugs. Drugs are bad, m’kay?”

  Bits of popcorn flew down my throat. Cough after cough exploded out of me as I wheezed through uncontrollable laughter. When I turned watery eyes to see her grinning, she thrust her tea at me. I drained most of the glass before I could breathe again.

  “Holy shit, that was the most uncanny South Park impression I’ve ever heard.”

  Her giggle was a sound of pure happiness that hit me with age-old memories. She gave a little bow. “Why thank you, thank you.”

  “You always were too damn funny.” I coughed again and pushed my hair away.

  The delight on her face died. “You don’t think I’m funny. You think I’m useless.”

  Useless? Jesus, how wrong could someone be? Liv was maddening, flighty, and smart-mouthed to a fault. She ran away too fast and hid behind her razor wit to keep from getting real about anything. As someone who’d spent his life burdened with responsibility, I envied and hated that about her.

  Liv Milani was also bursting with talent, brilliant, warm, and the biggest-hearted person I’d ever known.

  “Is that what you think I think of you?” She rolled her eyes at my question, but I shook my head and turned to her even more. “Liv, I—well, fuck what I think. But you’re not useless at all.”

  “Why do you hate me so much?” she blurted, biting her lips in a line.

  Oh, god, I don’t, but I understand why you think I do. My eyes widened. “I don’t hate you.”

  “Sorry, Will, it’s dark in here. Maybe you’re confused. It’s me, Liv. Your nemesis, remember?”

  The dim room didn’t hinder my vision. I could see her perfectly. I could see the guarded pinch in her shoulders, the quick breaths she drew through parted lips.

  I could see when her expression softened from careful to curious. I could see the way her gaze scanned my face and lingered on my mouth. I could “see” every beautiful detail of the woman I knew so well and yet not at all.

  “Nemesis. Now there’s a word,” I said at last to break the tension. “Can you define that, please?”

  “An enemy, right?”

  “Let’s find out.” I lit up my phone and searched. Oh, fucking hell. Too perfect.

  I couldn’t help but smirk as I put the phone away and looked at her again. “Not exactly. A nemesis is ‘the inescapable agent of someone’s downfall.’ What do you think about that?”

  Another absurd fantasy flashed through my head.

  Olivia grinned. “Hell yes, I’m the agent of your downfall. I will bring you to your fucking knees.”

  I laughed. “Come on, Liv. Don’t you get that’s exactly where I want to be?”

  “What?” Liv’s yelp was hoarse and high-pitched, almost guilty. It made me wonder if she’d been thinking something similar. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths, eyes round and fixed on me.

  The TV went black in a station glitch before I could reply.

  The silent room belied both of our heavy breathing. I couldn’t tear myself away from the stare she had locked on me, but I knew better than to even think of moving. I tightened my shoulders and balled my hands into fists. “You heard me. Are you the agent of my downfall, Liv?”

  She wet her lips. “I might be.”

  Fuck. My nails cut into my palms, but I nodded. “Yeah, you certainly might be.”

  “Are you thinking…” She cut herself off with a lemon face and quick shake of her head.

  “What?”

  Another headshake was my reply, so I rose and went back to the recliner. The show resumed, and very slowly so did my pulse.

  But I couldn’t let it go so easily. “Yes. Yes, I was.”

  I sensed her stare. “You were what?”

  “Thinking.”

  A long beat passed before she snorted and found some semblance of her usual snarky voice. “Don’t hurt yourself, buddy boy. Wouldn’t want you to strain anything.”

  I grinned, and damn did it feel good. As the show closed out, I glanced over to find her gazing at me. She crooked a hesitant smile, and my own widened. Maybe this summer won’t be the nightmare I’d feared.

  But then Liv’s face shuttered. She tossed the bowl on the coffee table and rushed for the stairs without a word. As her bedroom door closed, I leaned back and sighed.

  Or maybe it would be a whole new kind of nightmare.

  6

  Liv

  The next morning when I passed Will in the hallway, he barely gave me a grunted “Hey,” in greeting.

  Back to normal, thank god. If he’d been even a little bit different, I would have had no freaking clue what to make of it.

  I leaned against the wall once he’d gone and replayed yesterday’s whole weird session in my head. Why the hell had his hands been so damn interesting when he reached for that popcorn? They were just hands, for crying out loud. Why had it been so dark in the room? That had to be why all of a sudden Will Langer had looked far too appealing.

  I closed my eyes, recalling the way he’d bit down on that full bottom lip of his as the silence got awkward between us. The way he’d pushed those long fingers through his dark hair was too damn sexy to ignore.

  Nemesis. The agent of your downfall. Fuck yeah, I’ll be the agent of your downfall, Will Langer. Why don’t you fall on those knees and—

  “Stop it,” I mumbled, scrubbing my face with both hands and slapping my cheeks lightly. “Back to normal. Nothing to see here. Move along.”

  I forgot about our journey into the Twilight Zone when Rachel called at lunch to say I’d be helping with the five-year-old class this week. By the time I walked into the classroom the next day, all my mind could process was how huge a difference two years can make.

  The kids bombarded me with questions the moment I arrived: “I like cookies, do you?” “Why is your hair two colors?” “Are you our new helper?”

  The teacher swooped in, introduced herself as Miss Mary, and the day began. I supervised several kindergarten-level activities, like counting to ten and playing with letters to spell words. At recess, I played cowgirls.

  It was so much fun, I knew I couldn’t tell anyone about it because I’d have sounded totally corny. The evening teachers relieved us at 2:30, and the goodbye hugs I received had me grinning like a total dork.

  “Miss Olivia! Miss Olivia! Listen to me!” Amira, one of my students, tugged on the hem of my shirt, so I turned and knelt beside her. She danced around and began to sing the alphabet. I had to reach out twice to keep her from toppling over from a bit too much enthusiasm, but my grin got even bigger.

  I applauded when she finished with a drawn-out Z. “Amira, that was wonderful. You even remembered the QRS part this time.” She high-fived me and then ran back to the mat. I grabbed my purse and followed Ma
ry outside.

  Mary laughed once we clocked out. “I’ve been a kindergarten teacher for thirty years, and I know when someone has the knack. You, dearie, should be a teacher.”

  “Oh my god, really?”

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

  My heart leaped, but then I took a breath. You’re Liv, remember? That Girl has whims, but the mailroom job is the best you can do for a steady gig. Okay, so Rachel and Mary both said you have talent. So Megan encouraged you to go for “it”—whatever that was. She’s your best friend; she’s supposed to cheer you on. So… so Will Langer kind of, sort of, acted like you being a teacher was a legit thought.

  I gave Mary a close-lipped smile. “I’ll think about it. Thank you so much.”

  “See you next Friday, dear.” She hugged me quickly and went to her car, leaving me with plenty to think about.

  My whole life, whenever I’d had the idea to try something new, I’d just gone for it. As kids, Tom and I would play in the park after his soccer practice. If I wanted to turn a flip on the monkey bars, he taught me how. If I wanted to do a bicycle kick even though I didn’t play soccer, he taught me that, too. If I landed on my ass, I’d just laugh and get back up. Mom would look on, sometimes swooping in to monitor, but they never reprimanded me for trying.

  The same was true of social situations. If I was having an argument, Tom coached me on how to speak my mind. It was a trait I needed little help developing, but his caring nature and status as best big brother ever also taught me to look out for those I loved.

  No matter what, I knew I had a safety net. But this daycare gig was different. It was a path I’d have to walk alone. It would be hard. I would have to commit, to be the adult ensuring the safety of children with no way to escape should things get hard.

  Did I really trust myself to commit to a life path that required responsibility and patience? Did I really want to smell like crayon wax and baby wipes on the daily?

  Maybe so.

  7

  Liv

  A week slid past while I muddled all this over. Tom and Will double-dated Sunday with some women Will apparently knew from work. Why any woman would agree to a date with him was beyond me. His grump was so ingrained, I almost felt sorry for the chick forced to sit across from him. At least the lady with my brother got a good dude.

  Megan and I had our final intro CrossFit class Tuesday, and then I helped Mary again on Friday. Nashville was hot and sweaty as usual for July, so downtime was mostly spent indoors under heavy amounts of air conditioning.

  Summertime or no, I was ready for my hot yoga session the following weekend to give CrossFit a rest. That night, my buddy Jack’s band, Cellar Door, had a gig. Megan wasn’t free, and Nick was nowhere to be seen, but the show brought a lot of my friends out. An impromptu party commenced when we commandeered a section in the back.

  I sat across from my friends David and Kira, a local musical duo in their own right, and beside their manager, Aaron. We’d just clinked glasses when I looked up to see Ben Addison pulling up two chairs at the opposite end of the table.

  Ah, dear Ben. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t know the crew. Ben and I dated almost three years ago. He was my “type” for sure: quiet, intense, dark, and super sweet underneath. There was nothing romantic between us anymore, but our relationship had been a real one, not just casual dating. I was quitting college when we met, but he always took me seriously. I appreciated that. Things had fizzled between us, but we’d remained best buds.

  Well, except for that one Valentine’s Day a couple years ago when we were both a little lonely and…

  Friends. Just friends. Great friends.

  Besides, the second chair was for his girlfriend, Celeste. She flashed her gorgeous green eyes and smiled at the group, and he draped his arm across the back of her seat. Ever since Celeste had come into the picture, I’d known that Ben and I were done for good. No hard feelings, seriously. I was so happy for him. Celeste was Ben’s obvious soul mate. They weren’t married, but—

  But then Celeste lifted her IPA to her lips, and damn if she wasn’t rocking a beautiful diamond.

  I wasn’t the only one who noticed. The table exploded with shouts of congratulations. Luckily, the show hadn’t started, or we’d have derailed everything. The couple smiled bashfully and touched their foreheads together through our toasts. I’d like to say it was cheesy, but in all honesty, they were adorable.

  “When the hell did this happen?” I asked with a grin.

  Celeste’s smile thinned at my question. We were civil, but not friends. “A week ago. We hadn’t told anyone until we called Nick last night.”

  I didn’t miss the way she looked at me when she mentioned her cousin, but I pretended not to notice.

  “A toast!” Aaron declared, and we all raised glasses for the happy couple.

  Cellar Door killed their first set as usual. When the house lights came up, I slipped off to the bar for a refill.

  “Hey there,” Ben said with a smile when he leaned his elbows beside me.

  I smiled back and lifted my whiskey. “Congrats, my friend. I’m thrilled for you guys.”

  “Thanks. How’s everything with you?”

  “Can’t complain.” We sipped a moment, and then I heard myself say, “Guess I shouldn’t expect to hear from Nick anytime soon, hmm?”

  He slid his gaze away. “Uh, I wouldn’t, no.”

  “Kind of shitty, to be honest. Your boy just stopped calling.” With Ben, I knew I could be as blunt as I wanted, even about his best friend.

  “Yeah.”

  “I knew the deal.” It stung that a friend of mine would ghost after flirting with me like he meant it, but there was no big surprise. Ben nodded, and I tossed my hair. “Whatever. I’d say tell him to text me if he wants, but why bother? I’d like to think I’m worth a little more than that.”

  “Much more,” he said with conviction, and I threaded my arm through his as we moseyed back to the table.

  The show was a blast, but I went home unusually thoughtful for a night out. None of our group had been serious enough about anybody to get engaged yet. Thrilled as I was for Ben, and doubtless about his and Celeste’s love, it changed the game in a way I hadn’t been ready for.

  Add that to the knowledge that Nick had indeed dropped me like yesterday’s underwear, plus a couple of bourbons and a beer, and that lonely feeling I chose to ignore most of the time rubbed a little raw.

  Tom’s car was missing from the driveway when the cab dropped me off. I slipped into the dark house, glugged water and an aspirin, and tiptoed upstairs. Dressed for bed, I peeked into Tom’s room to find Maddie asleep, then noticed light under Maddie’s door.

  “Yes?” Came the muffled call to my impulsive knock.

  I stepped into the room. “Hey. Where’s Tom?”

  Will turned from where he stood at the dresser, and I immediately regretted barging in there in my pajamas. My pink cami and shorts left very little to the imagination.

  Will’s gaze swept over me twice before meeting my eyes. His throat bobbed with a swallow. “Out. Tom is… out.”

  The urge to slink away was strong, but Olivia Milani slunk for no one. I took a breath and blazed ahead. “The chick from last weekend?”

  Will nodded and turned back to the dresser. Those moments of intense staring from the 4th seemed long gone. That’s right, boy, hide from me. One or two conversations doesn’t mean we’re pals. You probably don’t even care, do you?

  “Cool. Well, good talk. Have fun with whatever you’ve got going on in that drawer. Must be fascinating.”

  Shit, wrong move.

  Will lifted his head and faced me again. He nodded at me and twisted his lips, and again I wanted to flee. “I was trying for a little decorum, given that you walked into my room dressed like that.”

  “This is my house. I’ll wear what I like and go where I want.” I tossed my hair. If I had to do battle in nothing but underwear, I’d be damn sure he got
all my attitude.

  He nodded, still with that wry smile on.

  I scowled. My defenses wavered to frustration and fatigue. “Leave me alone. I don’t need your shit, okay? Not tonight.”

  “What’s wrong? Your night out didn’t live up to your expectations?”

  Well, kind of. I swept aside that knee-jerk thought. “Piss off, Will. My life isn’t your business.”

  “Indeed.”

  Why is he pushing your buttons? He’s hardly said anything. I couldn’t let it go. “You would assume that partying is all I’m about. It figures you’d reduce me to that.”

  He stepped closer. His pouty drawl practically dared me to punch the smug off his face. “Aw, did I hurt your feelings, little Liv?”

  An angry flush heated my cheeks. “You wish you could hurt me.”

  “You wish you weren’t hurting.”

  His words were so calm and blunt that they threw me. I clenched my hands into fists and stuttered, “You don’t know me.”

  “Really? I don’t know you? Are you sure about that?”

  I took half a step back at his intensity, but my only reply was a strong shake of my head.

  Will opened his mouth, but instead of whatever he was going to say, he smiled. “You’re so angry. Look at your hands.”

  My knuckles were white, nails dug deep into my palms. I sneered. “Ooh, I take it back. You can read me like a book. Angry, ha. What do my hands tell you now?” I held up both middle fingers. “There’s mad for you, dick.”

  “Oh, how clever. Go to bed. I’m tired.”

  My eyes almost fell out of my head. It took all my restraint to keep from shouting that no one told me what to do, but I remembered Maddie just in time and hissed instead. “Kiss my ass, Will.”

  “Bend over, Liv.”

  I narrowed my eyes to slits before I kissed my palm, spun around, and smacked my glutes as I stormed out of his room.

  That bastard laughed as I shut the door.

  This was the weirdest summer I could remember, and it wasn’t even half over. One second everything was changing. In the next moment, routines reset all back to normal, and I was left wondering if I was losing my mind. No one else seemed so upside-down. Tom and Megs were their normal awesome selves. Even Will acted like everything was the same.