I smile, relieved and a little scared. Making friends is hard. Committing to them is harder, but my mom is right, if I want to go to Ocean Grove this year, I need to be ready, and Melina may be the perfect person to start with.
16
Ben
At the risk of looking like a stalker, especially outside the girl’s home, I park the truck a few blocks down and wait until I see Olivia walk down the front steps to get her bike. She’s in a bright blue tank top and tan shorts that graze the top of her thighs. This is the summer I realize I’m a leg-guy. I’m pretty sure I know why.
A warm, unexpected feeling spreads across my chest when I see her. It’s not the first time it’s happened, and I’m not foolish enough to think it’s the last. I am impulsive enough to take the risk at approaching her, knowing my feelings are growing.
“Hey,” I say, jogging over as she knocks up the kickstand.
“Oh, hi,” she says, surprised to see me. Her eyes brighten though, making me think it’s a good surprise and not a bad one. “What’s going on?”
“I, uh,” I scratch my neck, “I have to pick up something down at one of the shops and deliver it over to someone in the gated community. I thought maybe you’d want to tag along.”
Her eyebrows raise. “You looking for free labor?”
My heart thrums in my chest. “Just a little company.”
Her hands twist on the handlebars and I see a whirl run through her eyes. I want her to just come. Forget everything else. Her past. My failures. And just come hang out with me. No strings attached.
She brushes her hair off her forehead, sticky from the hot afternoon, and says, “Sure, yeah, that would be great.”
I take her bike and roll it over to the truck, hoisting it into the bed. I know better than this, but impulse control has never been my strong suit. The loneliness…it changes you, and right now, Olivia and I need one another.
17
Olivia
I take my seat in the group circle and pretend my eyes can shoot daggers. Spencer, standing next to Avi near the snack table, is clueless that he’s my target. Either that or he just doesn’t care.
“Hey,” Layla says, taking the seat next to mine. She looks between me and Spencer. “Did something happen between you guys?”
“Nope,” I say, popping the 'p'.
“Why do I get the feeling that’s not completely true.”
I look at Layla and her perfect braids and smooth complexion. I know she’s not perfect. None of us are here, but she’s homeschooled, seems to like books more than boys, and I can’t imagine she really wants to hear my drama.
“Boys are dumb,” I say.
“I have four brothers, you don’t have to tell me.”
“Four? Yikes.”
“They smell, fight all the time, and can’t aim in the bathroom. It’s a never-ending nightmare.”
Spencer and Avi walk over. I look at my shoes, not sure how to handle Spencer. As far as he knows, I think he didn’t go to the concert. I know the truth though; he went with someone else.
“Hey, Liv,” he says, giving me a nod. “I’m really sorry about the other night. I wasn’t feeling great and decided to stay home and rest.”
I blink, wavering between crying and stabbing him in the face. He can’t even admit that he stood me up. Out of nowhere I think of Ben; his bright eyes and infectious smile. I think about our picnic and how if I hadn’t gone, we never would have become better friends.
“Actually,” I say, regaining my composure, “it worked out better for me anyway. Ben planned a surprise for me. We had a great time.”
“Who’s Ben?” Layla asks, glancing at Avi like he’d know the answer. He shrugs. I’m completely shocked that the words came out of my mouth, none actually a lie, but certainly an embellishment. In a lower voice she asks, “Spencer asked you out?”
“As friends,” he says. His eyes flash with anger, jaw set. Is he mad at me? “No big deal.”
“Nope. None.” I look up as Maya walks over carrying a stack of worksheets and a handful of pens. She’ll probably force us to fill them out, share and reflect.
“You guys ready to get started?” she asks. “Tonight I want to talk about opportunities. When to take them, and when to walk away.”
It’s a little too timely—but it only affirms what I’ve been feeling all day—maybe all week. Seeing Spencer and hearing him lie about standing up, then acting jealous? It’s confirmation.
Ben is an opportunity. One I think I’m ready to embrace.
My summer, like all summers, settles into a routine. I get up, eat my breakfast, and take my meds. True to my mother’s word, she doesn’t ask me about it again, but I assume she’s checking the bottles to make sure I’m taking them. After that I ride my bike to the Girls' Home, where Melina and I spend the day entertaining the girls. We’ve hit the pool, mini-golf, and a painting class at the community center. My skin loses its pale tone for something warmer—tanner—and my blonde hair has streaks of white from so much sun. Another routine is Ben. When I walk out the door, he waits for me in his big, silver truck, and we haul stuff the rest of the afternoon. When we’re finished, I unload my bike and ride it a couple blocks home, feeling both content and exhausted for the first time ever.
On Friday he tosses my bike in the back of the truck, and we head down to Fiona’s Home, a specialty boutique with home furnishings. He parks in the small alley behind the building.
“Have you ever met her?” I ask, after Ben rings the buzzer at the back door and we wait for an employee to let us in. Fiona Caldwell is a former supermodel and star of the reality show Next Big Model.
“No,” he says. “But I saw Lucy Harrington down at the beach one day.”
“Really?” Ocean Grove is a small town, but that doesn’t mean everyone knows everyone else. “Is she as pretty in person as she is on TV?”
He leans against the building. “She’s pretty. Unique, I guess.”
“She’s a mega-star, Ben, you can tell me you think she’s hot.”
His eyes skip down my body. “She’s just not my type.”
My heart thuds and he glances away, ringing the bell again. As much as I want to ask him for details about his type, I’m thankful the door opens.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice. Our normal delivery truck had a mix-up today, and we didn’t want the customer to wait any longer for the piece.”
“The piece” is a massive framed painting. Thankfully it’s already wrapped and ready to travel. We just have to get it secured in the truck.
“Oh,” the woman says, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I forgot the invoice.” She waves for us to follow her. “It’s on the front counter.”
We enter a long hallway and pass by several framed photos of the owner, Fiona Caldwell. She’s unearthly—gorgeous—and I pause to stare at her photographs. Ben and the saleswoman walk to the front of the store.
“Good afternoon,” she says, in a loud clear voice, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
“No, I just dropped by to get a few samples of your stationary for my daughter’s wedding.”
I recognize the voice immediately and press my back to the wall. It’s my mother. Who thinks I’m at work right now. Maybe she won’t see—
“Ben!”
Fudge.
“Mrs. Sadd—Shelly, hi.”
“Are you working here?”
“Just picking up a delivery.”
“That’s great. This is one of my favorite stores.” I edge down the hall until I can see her face. She’s smiling brightly at the saleswoman. “And he’s one of my favorite guys. He’ll do a great job.”
Ben’s expression is a mixture of pleased and embarrassed, something I’m intimately familiar with. “I wanted to thank you again for taking Olivia to the concert. I think she had a really good time.”
Well, now he knows I didn’t ever tell her the truth about that. There’s a pause, and he glances my direction. I shake my head. “We
had fun.”
“It’s just so great that you’ve been around for her during this transition time. With Norah gone and changing schools, I know she’s been unhappy.”
“Well, we all miss Norah, right?” he replies. “But I don’t think you need to worry about Olivia so much. She’s a good kid.”
Kid?
Ouch.
“Thank you for saying that. It’s nice to hear. She’s been working so much. Nine-to-four every day, then group twice a week. I feel like she’s making progress, although I do wish she had a few more friends, but now that she’s working until late afternoon that’s a challenge as well.”
In one fell swoop, she confirmed to Ben that I’m also lying about my work hours and the fact I’m a loser with no friends.
“Ah, here’s the invoice.” The woman hands Ben a sheet of paper, then turns to my mother. “Let’s look at those invitations.”
“It was good seeing you, Mrs—Shelly.”
“You too, sweetie. Make sure you come over when Norah gets back.”
“I’m planning on it.”
I ease back, getting out of view. Ben comes around the corner holding the invoice, jaw set, and his eyebrows furrowed. He doesn’t say anything as we reach the painting. It takes the two of us to carefully get it out the door and into the back of the truck. I wait on the steps as he secures it with ropes and cords.
“Pull that, will you?" He flings a length of rope in my direction. I move to the side of the truck and reach for it, pulling it tight across the bed. He secures his side and walks over saying, “Don’t let go.”
He steps behind me, wrapping both arms around my body as he reaches for the rope. His fingers brush against mine, and I can’t deny the rush of electricity that runs up my limbs or the shiver that runs down my spine. The muscles along his forearms flex as he tightens the rope and I find myself looking to run, overwhelmed by the nearness of him, but I’m trapped.
When the painting is secured, I wait for him to move, but he doesn’t, placing his hands on the edge of the truck bed. He’s standing so close.
“Are you mad?” I ask, unable to see his face.
“No,” he says. “I guess I’m just wondering why you’re keeping stuff from me? It puts me in a bad situation with your mom when I don’t know what’s going on.”
“I don’t know,” I admit, but then reconsider. I do know. “I’ve just wanted a little freedom this summer. You heard her. She thinks I’m still a kid that needs constant supervision.” I turn so I’m facing him. We’re inches apart and I can smell the detergent on his shirt. “You think I’m a kid.”
His eyes hold mine and for once, I don’t look away. I want to hear him admit it. Refute it. Whatever. I need to know how he views me.
The muscle in his jaw pulses, and I wonder if he can hear the hammer of my heart as it threatens to jump out of my chest. He opens his mouth and says, “We need to deliver this to keep on schedule.”
His hands drop and he walks around the back of the truck, his door opening and shutting with a slam. I open the passenger door with shaking hands. As we drive back through the town of Ocean Grove, I consider that what’s freaking me out isn’t so much what Ben did say, but what he didn’t.
18
Ben
I use every ounce of focus on the road and getting to our destination and not on the girl in the passenger seat. The kid who is very much no longer a kid in my eyes. Olivia Saddler stopped being that for me weeks ago and started being this gorgeous, spirited, fun girl I wanted to spend all my time with. What rocked me at the shop wasn’t so much that she hadn’t told me about her work hours. It’s that she’s intentionally carving time out of her day and spending it with me. Is it because she has nothing else to do or is it because she feels the same pull I do?
“These houses are so crazy,” she says as we drive through the neighborhood. “Can you imagine living in something so big?”
“I can barely get used to living behind something so big.” I check the GPS and see the house down the street. It’s a massive modern structure with sleek lines and wall-sized windows. Work trucks are parked in front of the house and piles of mud have destroyed the yard. It looks like they’re getting the whole front landscaped. I pull in the large circular driveway, edging between two larger trucks with trailers.
“You can wait here if you want,” I say, unhooking my seatbelt.
“Are you kidding? I want to see the inside of the house.”
I hand her the invoice. “Go to the door and find out where they want us to take this.”
She vanishes between the trailers and heads to the door while I loosen the bindings on the painting. It’s not heavy, just cumbersome, so I wait until she returns to take it off the back of the truck.
A few minutes later, Olivia returns. “She said the front door is fine. Here, let me get one side.”
I have to give Liv credit, I never expected her to work. This is my job not hers, but she’s not afraid of getting her hands dirty. When carrying large items, we tend to work in sync. Today isn’t one of those days. I don’t know if it's from seeing her mom earlier or what, but she seems off.
“Do you have it?” I ask, feeling a sag on the other side.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? Because I can try to get it on my own.”
“I said yes.”
I count to three and we lift the piece out of the back of the truck. Twice she stumbles and once the corner, thankfully padded, slams into the brick wall near the front stairs. I glance behind me and see the front door open. A woman stands just inside holding a tiny, squirming dog in her hands. He starts yapping the minute he sees me.
“Sorry,” she says, brushing her gray hair back. “Buster’s been extra wound up all day with so much work going on.”
“No problem,” I say. “Just show me where you want this.”
“It’s going over the fireplace in the living room. I saw it at Fiona’s shop and just had to buy it. It’s really the perfect piece.” She talks as she walks through the house. The rooms are wide and spacious but there are fragile-looking things everywhere. I look over the top of the piece at Liv. She looks steady. I’m not sure why I’m so on edge.
“My handyman will be here this afternoon. Just rest it against the bookshelf and he can take care of the rest.”
“Got it,” I reply, shifting us that direction.
“Oh, here, let me move this,” the woman says, placing the dog on the floor and moving a tall, leafy plant. The dog instantly starts barking louder, running around our feet.
I nearly sigh with relief when we get the painting securely on the ground.
“Perfect,” the woman says, smiling happily. There’s a loud bang outside and a few shouts from the yard workers. The dog bolts toward the door, barking frantically. “Buster, no!”
Panic crosses her face, but she seems frozen in her spot. Olivia glances at me and says, “I’ll get her,” as she races through the house. I follow, not sure what’s going on but as I get to the front door I see that Buster, still barking furiously, is racing through the muddy yard, running toward the street. There are so many work trucks cruising up and down the road, the chance of him getting hit are high.
“Go that way,” I tell Liv, pointing to the left. The driveway is a half-circle and I go to the right. “Buster! Come here!”
The little dog ignores me, running wild through the yard like he’s never tasted such freedom. He’s covered in mud. Olivia steps off the driveway and into the yard, her feet sinking into the mud.
“Really?” I mutter, wondering how we got into this. I look down at my newish sneakers. They’ll get ruined, but one look at the house and the older woman’s face tells me it’s worth it. I step into the squishy yard and the two of us start to pin him in.
“Buster!” Olivia calls and the dog looks up at her, tongue out, tail wagging. He runs in tight circles, gleefully barking. We each inch closer and closer until we’ve got him semi-corralled.
“Get hi
m to look at you,” I whisper, like the dog can hear me or something. “I’ll grab him.”
“Hey Buster. Hey, buddy,” Liv says, using a quieter voice, too. She places her hands on her knees, getting closer to his level. I ease up behind him. Making eye contact with Liv, we count to three. Just as I’m about to reach for him, Liv’s foot gets stuck in the mud, toppling her forward. She falls, hands outstretched toward the mud. Buster zips out of the way and I dive at him, catching him by the back legs. He yelps, less in pain than annoyance, and I pull his muddy, wet body into my arms. He licks my face and I roll over to get a look at Olivia. We’re both completely covered in mud.
Her eyes skim over me and she breaks into a smile, her teeth white against the dark mud, and I can’t help but laugh. She starts to giggle in return and we both lie there, covered in filth and laughing like two fools.
“I’m sorry I lied,” she says suddenly.
I sit up, holding Buster in my arms. “I just don’t want you to think you have to.” She reaches out and wipes a glob of mud off my cheek. I grab her fingers and wrap them in mine. “I also don’t want you to think I think you’re just a kid. Maybe before, but not anymore.”
“Then how do you see me?”
I look her up and down. “Other than right now?”
She laughs. “Obviously.”
“I see you as the girl I want to get to know better. That I want to spend all my time with.” I squeeze her hand. “You’re the girl I can’t stop thinking about, who I realize that even covered in mud is gorgeous.”
“You mean that?”
“I do.” There. I let it all out. Said what I’d been holding in for way too long. But I need to know more. What I really need to know is how she feels about me.
19
Olivia
After getting Buster back to his owner and receiving a handsome tip for both the delivery and saving the dog, Ben comes up with an idea on how to clean up.
Olivia and the Older Boy: Young Adult Sweet Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 5) Page 7
