Chapter Nine
Liv
One would think that nearly three weeks of silence on my part would make the gossip stop.
“She’s probably texting him right now,” Cameron whispered to my left.
She was talking about me. They all were. They all had been ever since homecoming.
I had to admit, as far as epic exits went, mine and Oliver’s set an entirely new standard for Harmon High. It wasn’t every day a newly-made billionaire made out with a geeky loser at a dance and then whisked her away in a helicopter.
To these people it probably looked like I’d gotten the fairytale happily-ever-after. Granted, not one of the girls in our class had wanted Oliver when he was here and available, but that didn’t stop the jealous whispering I kept hearing these days.
He’s not mine, I could have told them. We’re not together.
But I didn’t have the heart. What did it matter? They’d find out eventually when he was spotted kissing Jamie, or some other girl.
My fingers gripped the edge of my desk so hard it hurt.
At least these days I knew this feeling for what it was. Jealousy. It was usually followed quickly by resentment and fear and regret and a million other terrible emotions that were making it hard for me to sleep or eat or breathe these days.
I’d done the right thing…hadn’t I?
That was the question of the day. The one that had been plaguing me ever since that night. I’d done as he’d asked and given him space, but with each day that passed I became more and more paranoid that my initial fear was right.
I’d lost him. Maybe not because we’d tried to date and it failed, but I’d lost him nonetheless.
And it was all my fault.
I’d been scared. I’d been terrified, actually. So frightened of losing my best friend—my only friend—that I’d acted out of fear.
And now…well, now I was stuck here in my own private hell, with no one to talk to about it because the only real friend I had wasn’t speaking to me. I could have told my mom, I supposed, but she wouldn’t get it. The only thing she and I had in common were diet fads. And the elderly people at the nursing home? Well, something told me they wouldn’t be able to relate. Nope. I was on my own.
The fact that everyone around me seemed to honestly believe that we were now a couple made it all that much worse. Talk about salt in my wounds.
I looked up at the clock. Two hours before the end of the school day and approximately five hours before the big magazine gala to end all galas. I should have been there. I should have been on his arm and rooting him on.
Instead I was here, alone and miserable.
For weeks now I’d been flip-flopping on the rightness of my actions, but in the end, I had to believe that it was the right decision. He would thank me in the end.
But much as I told myself that, it didn’t make this suck any less. I missed Oliver. I missed my best friend.
And that kiss?
I was officially obsessed. It had been hot—so much hotter than I could ever have imagined.
Not that I’d ever imagined it before. I’d been telling myself I liked Mikey or Stuart, or anyone else, but the truth was…it had always been Oliver.
The fact that I refused to acknowledge it to myself didn’t make it any less real. It just made me an idiot for having ignored it for so long.
But thanks to that kiss I couldn’t ignore it any longer. It would have been like trying to shove a butterfly back into its cocoon.
There was no going backwards.
I swallowed down a wave of tears—I was so sick of crying these days. Honestly, I would have preferred to release my emotions in any other way, but my tear ducts had their own opinion on the matter.
“I can’t believe he did all that for her.” Julie hadn’t even tried to lower her voice to a whisper. One of her friends shushed her before giggling. At least her friends kept up the illusion that they didn’t want to be overheard.
I whirled around with a scowl. “Yes, Julie. He hired a helicopter for me. Oh, and a limo, too. Get over it already.”
Julie, Cameron, and three of their friends gawked at me.
Seriously. Did they think their little world was soundproof or something?
Julie’s nose wrinkled up in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Her tone held all the disdain in the world and she was staring at me like she smelled something foul. I narrowed my eyes in return, ready to let her have it.
I’d been listening to this group of mean girls talk about how unbelievable it was that Oliver could have done all that for me.
Honestly, I still didn’t quite believe it myself. But it was one thing for me to doubt it, and another for them to say the same exact thing.
Right?
Before either of us could speak again, Cameron piped up. “She wasn’t talking about homecoming.”
I turned to look at her, the slightly less pretty blonde who had forever been Julie’s sidekick-slash-minion.
“What?”
She widened her eyes and gave me a look like I’d gone nuts. “I said, she wasn’t talking about homecoming.” She held up a magazine with Oliver’s face on the front. “She was talking about this. About Love Quiz.”
They were all staring at me now, no doubt because my mouth was hanging open in what had to be an unflattering way. I couldn’t help it. I’d known the magazine was supposed to be published today, but I hadn’t had a chance to grab a copy yet.
Air got caught in my throat as I stared at it. Also…since when had he been chosen to be the cover feature?
I’d thought he’d said he would turn it down.
I was struck dumb, temporarily hurt and angry and sad that I hadn’t known. That he hadn’t told me.
I took a shaky inhale as I stared at his handsome jawline. Man, he really had been born to grace magazine covers. He was staring up from the cover with that intensity that I loved. It was the look he got when he gave something—or someone—his full attention.
Homesickness made my stomach turn and my eyes well with tears.
Apparently Cameron and company had an aversion to tears because their looks of disgust turned to outright revulsion as Cameron thrust the magazine. “Here. I’ve got other copies in my bag.”
I sniffed and muttered my thanks. The bell rang but I couldn’t move from my seat. I’d be late to the next class but it was better than weeping openly in the hallways as I stared at this cover.
When the bell rang again I realized I had the empty classroom to myself. The teacher had left along with the others and it must have been his free period because he’d never returned.
I was alone.
With shaking fingers I opened the cover page and flipped through the contents until I found the main article that the entire magazine centered around.
Oliver was the featured one out of the thirty young, filthy rich people they’d selected. I couldn’t believe it.
Well, I could believe he’d been chosen—his success story was ridiculous. But I couldn’t believe he’d agreed to it. The guy hated attention.
Except when he was staging a helicopter exit for you.
Yes, thank you brain. That was exactly the fresh wave of guilt I’d been hoping for today.
As if I hadn’t been feeling guilty enough that I’d ruined the perfect night he’d so clearly spent time and energy planning.
I focused my attention on the words in front of me. There was no way I’d get through reading this if I kept obsessing over that night. After a brief bio and background section which I already knew well—lived it, thank you very much, the article changed formats to an interview format.
Fortune Hunter: Thanks for meeting with us at the last minute like this. We were told at first that you wouldn’t be interested in a feature spot.
Oliver Jackson: My best friend changed my mind.
I blinked down at the page. Unless she’d been replaced, he was talking about me. That was enough to set my heart racing, maki
ng it impossible to read slowly and thoroughly. Instead my gaze darted all over the page, frantically trying to take it all in at once. I stopped breathing all together when I found myself mentioned again.
And again.
And then…oh holy cow. I wasn’t just mentioned. I am the story.
Fortune Hunter: Could you tell us how you came up with the idea for Love Quiz? How did this whole empire get started?
Oliver Jackson: I created it for my best friend. She didn’t seem to be aware that my feelings for her had grown from friendship to something more, and while brainstorming ideas for a coding class, I decided it would be best if I showed her.
Fortune Hunter: Let me get this straight. The app that sold for billions was created to impress a girl?
Oliver Jackson: Yes. That is correct.
Fortune Hunter: And…was she impressed?
Oliver Jackson: I don’t know. I never told her that I’d created it for her. And to my knowledge she has never used the app.
Fortune Hunter: Why didn’t you tell her?
Oliver Jackson: The timing never seemed right. That’s what I’d been telling myself for these past few years. But now it occurs to me that perhaps I just hadn’t been brave enough to tell her.
Fortune Hunter: I’d imagine it would take quite a bit of courage. So, when do you plan on telling her?
Oliver Jackson: I’m telling her right now.
I had to stop reading. The letters were swimming and my hands shook too badly to flip the page to continue.
He’d done it for me?
I remembered vividly those months and months that he’d toiled away on his new obsession.
And it had all been for me.
Nope. It still didn’t compute. I brushed the tears away and flipped the page, eyes skimming over the rest of the article to see if there were any other shockers in there. But no, after that reveal Oliver deftly avoided answering any more questions about the origin of Love Quiz. He didn’t give a response when the interviewer asked him if his plan had been a success, and he gave a simple “no comment” in response to a very basic question: are you single?
A wave of warmth spread across my cheeks. The interviewer finally got the point—Oliver had said all he was going to say about his personal life. I could have been in the room, because I could picture his facial expressions clearly. He’d known exactly what he was doing; he’d said exactly what he’d wanted to say…
To me.
He’d even spelled that out for me. He hadn’t just revealed a secret, he’d told me through the magazine.
I shut it to stare once more into those dark, intense eyes. Why this? Why now? If only the static image on the cover would open his mouth and speak.
Why hadn’t he told me in person? If this was true—if he still wanted me—then why hadn’t he reached out?
Those dark eyes bore into mine, even though it was only a photo. He might as well have spoken because I could hear his soothing voice in my head. I already knew the answer. He hadn’t reached out because this was up to me. He’d told me he loved me. He’d told me he wanted to be with me…
And now it was up to me to make the next move.
Or not.
Either way, he’d shoved that ball so firmly in my court, there was no ignoring it.
My heart was pounding so fiercely, someone walking in the hallway might have heard it. Something I didn’t recognize had the butterflies in my belly doing a tango. I pressed a palm to my stomach and took a deep breath, adrenaline making me lightheaded.
What was this feeling?
Hope.
Fear.
Maybe both. But after weeks of silence, after weeks of stewing in regret and what ifs, I couldn’t take one more second of it.
There was only one thing left to do.
I was out of my seat and heading toward the school exit, only sparing the briefest of thoughts for how I was going to explain to my mom that I’d skipped out on school. But then again, she’d probably be more concerned about why I’d taken off for New York City in the middle of a school day.
But I’d deal with all that later.
Determination bolted through me, spiking my pulse. First, I had to find Oliver.
Chapter Ten
Liv
One would think that a two-hour car ride, a never-ending round of find-the-parking-space, and then a three-mile walk to Oliver’s campus would have given me ample time to figure out what exactly I was going to say.
One would be wrong.
I found myself standing in front of the dorm building realizing what a complete and total failure of a plan this was. I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. Nothing had changed…
And yet everything had changed.
It had taken such courage on his part to not only be interviewed but to put himself out there.
And he’d done it for me.
To prove that he could be brave.
Now the question was…could I?
My heart felt like it was in my throat as I stared at the doors, uncertain of whether I should text or call or just throw myself at the mercy of the security guards until they let me up to see him in person.
In the end I did none of the above.
“Liv?”
A familiar voice had me spinning around to see Jamie—perfect, lovely Jamie. She was smiling, but her brows were drawn together in confusion. Rightfully so.
I wondered how much Oliver had told her about that night.
I wondered if she’d read the article in the magazine.
A surge of satisfaction shot through me that nearly knocked me off my feet. What was the opposite emotion to jealousy? Whatever it was, I experienced it and it made me giddy. After so many months—heck, maybe years—of telling myself that Oliver liked other girls, that he deserved other girls, I realized that he’d always liked me.
He loved me.
Oliver. Loved. Me.
“Liv? Are you…are you crying?”
I shook my head. “No.” But I was. Hot tears rolled down my face.
I wasn’t sure at what point I’d fallen in love with my best friend, but I had. And I didn’t know when I’d become so convinced that he could never love me back, but I had.
And right now? At this very moment? It was finally starting to register that he felt the same way. That he’d always felt the same way, and it had nothing to do with settling or comfort or hiding.
Oliver. Loved. Me.
“I need to find him,” I said. Okay, fine, I blubbered.
Jamie’s confusion morphed into sympathetic amusement. “You read the article.”
I nodded.
“And now you want to talk to him,” she said.
I nodded again.
She gave a little wince of regret, and my heart plummeted. I was too late. He’d already moved on. In the time since he’d given that article he’d come to his senses, realized he deserved better than me, and was now engaged to Jamie.
“He already left for the gala,” she said.
Oh.
Or that.
I swiped at the lingering tears. “I have problems,” I muttered.
“Excuse me?”
I let out a short laugh. “Nothing, it’s just…” I shook my head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Jamie smiled. “Try me.”
Oddly enough, I wanted to. I’d never had a real friend other than Oliver and right now I really wanted to talk to someone about Oliver. About this whole mess. Jamie seemed to read my mind. “Come on,” she said, nodding toward the dorm building. “Let’s go up to my room and get you cleaned up.”
I followed her like a child, because quite honestly I was a mess. I mean, I’d just come to New York City without an actual game plan. I was prepared to confront my very best friend but the thought of it still filled me with such fear, I wasn’t sure if I could go through with it.
When we got to Jamie’s room, she turned to face me. “Okay,” she said. “Spill.”
“Well, um…I don’t really
know where to start.”
“Why don’t you start with why you pushed Oliver away.”
Her tone and her expression were kind but I still felt her words like a sucker punch. I’d hurt him. Badly. My belly twisted with regret. I’d hurt him, and this girl had been there for him. Rather than the gross icky feeling I was expecting, I felt nothing but a rush of gratitude toward this girl.
“I guess…” I cleared my throat. “I guess I have a lot of work to do on my self-esteem.”
She arched her brows, leaning in, silently prompting for more.
“I think…I mean, I know that Oliver deserves the very best. And now that he’s in this whole new world.” I waved my hands to emcompass the whole school. “He’s broken out of our school, and our town, and he’s a celebrity, and…”
She hitched her lips to the side as she studied me. “And you felt left behind.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” I shifted from foot to foot as I tried to put it into words. “I always knew he’d be moving on to bigger and better. No one else saw it, but I did. I always knew he was a genius. I always knew that one day I wouldn’t be the only one who saw it…and when that time came…”
Once again, I trailed off. Jamie came to my rescue. “You thought he’d move on from you?”
My stomach churned as I shifted uncomfortably under her watchful stare. When she put it that way, it sounded bad. Like I didn’t have faith in my best friend.
“It wasn’t so much him I doubted,” I said, my tone defensive. “I doubted myself.”
She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Do you still doubt yourself?”
I opened my mouth and oh how I would have loved to able to say no. But that would have been a bald-faced lie. “I guess I just see all the best in him, but I have a hard time understanding what he sees in me.” I shrugged helplessly. “I don’t feel like I’m smart enough or pretty enough or good enough. He deserves the very best.” I wrinkled up my nose as I added, “He deserves you.”
“Me?”
She looked so shocked, as if the thought had never even occurred to her. I was officially a jerk for ever having suspected that she was trying to steal Oliver away from me.
Tall, Dark, and Nerdy: High School Billionaire #1 Page 14
