“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I really like your input on this project. You’re not the least bit intimidated by me. That’s refreshing. I’m glad we’re partners, Kate.”
“Yeah. Me, too, Gretchen.” I lied. “Now we just need to come up with some sort of outline.”
She grabbed her phone.
“Oh, fuck! Look at the time. I’ve got a class all the way across campus in ten minutes. Here.” She handed me the receipt for the pizza we didn’t have yet. “It’s paid for. Just take it home with you and maybe we can meet up tonight or tomorrow to discuss more. We can eat it then. Do you mind waiting for it?” She was walking backwards and was halfway to the door when I nodded and waved.
Just then a frazzled kid in an apron tossed the box on the table and ran back behind the counter. I didn’t have any more classes, and sitting still and gorging on pizza was exactly what this day called for. I pulled out a greasy slice with one hand and shoved my other hand into my bag to grab my phone.
And of course there were texts from Oliver. My heart pounded hard inside my chest
Walter: Oh, love, you just made my day. Fuck it. You made my whole fuckin year! Looking fwd to being with you, Lex. REALLY looking fwd to it!!
I threw my phone back into my bag and my slice of pizza back into the box and caught my head in my hands. I couldn’t live with myself even one day longer if I continued with this charade. I had to tell Oliver the truth. I needed to break it to him gently, though. I needed to protect his heart. Maybe meeting him at the Billabong Festival was exactly what I needed to do. The festival was three days away and there was no doubt in my mind what had to be done.
I got to my dorm and pulled out my journal in an attempt to shake my own tree. As painful as it was to relive Buster’s story twice in one day, I needed to finally pass it on, just as Oliver had. And maybe someday I could give him my journal and seeing all he had been through would build him up and he would realize all he survived. I had a feeling there was a lot more Oliver needed to shake free.
My phone buzzed.
Walter: Countdown – t minus 3 <3
Oh, dear God, what had I done?
Four
It was an unseasonably warm October day. The lawn near the field house was mobbed as most of the student body awaited the first band to grace the stage. It was the perfect day for flip-flops, cut-offs and the Billabong Festival.
“You guys go find a spot to stand and I’ll go get us some drinks.” MacKenna had been twenty-one for all of four days and already she was serving alcohol to minors. If the circumstances had been different, I would’ve reveled in the fact that I was doing something so social with my girls. But all I could think about was the conversation I had to have with Oliver. I dreaded it. I just wanted to drink and have a blast with everyone. There were five girls from my floor who adopted me practically the second I moved into Webster Hall. I was the only freshman in a hallway of juniors, who’d all been friends for two years.
****
I’ll never forget that day. My mom had just left and the realization that I was literally on my own set in. Being the only child of a hard-working single mom didn’t leave time for being doted on or spoiled. Unlike many freshmen, I went to college knowing how to do laundry, iron, cook and clean. But I was used to the company of my mom in the evenings. She worked past dinner many nights and I was always up late doing schoolwork, so that was our time to catch up. And on the weekends, when she didn’t have showings or open houses, it was a time for us to kick back and watch movies.
I did things with my high school friends but it was usually unplanned and stemmed from a group project or something. We’d work at someone’s house and then we’d head out for something to eat and every now and then we’d end up, by chance, somewhere that had karaoke or trivia night. But I didn’t have the social group of friends that did things without having schoolwork as a precursor to a movie or dinner.
I decided on move-in day that my freshman year goals at University of Maryland would involve stepping out of my comfort zone, expanding my horizons and making friends—real friends. I wanted that “sister” connection so many girls I knew had. I wanted the kind of friends you could call at all hours of the night when a boy breaks your heart.
I didn’t want my heart broken but I wanted to finally have a boyfriend. Not just for the sake of having one, though. I wanted to fall in love. And I wanted to feel the reciprocation of that from someone I trusted with my life.
I pulled out a Post-it note from my desk drawer and actually documented what I wanted to get out of my freshman college experience:
Goals:
• Apply for study-abroad program
• Make life-long friends
• Find LOVE
No sooner did I finish my list, there was a knock on my door. I stuck the note to the side of my desk in plain view from my pillow and opened the door to five girls who, upon finding out I was a just a freshman, never treated me like the baby of the group. It was then I knew I’d found my sisters. And I wanted to soak up every moment of what that meant.
****
It was a gorgeous day. The sun was high in the sky and there were no clouds, but there were some slammin’ local bands filling the air with music. I knew I wasn’t the only one in the crowd who knew Phobia5 would grace the stage before the day was over. Gretchen knew. Which could mean that by the time Oliver hit the stage everyone around her in the insane crowd would know, too.
“Okay, ladies. We are gonna kick these suckers back and then I’m sending Ally to get more. Today’s alcohol consumption is on me. Jack gave me these wristbands for everyone so, technically, you’re all twenty-one. Now, bottoms up, bitches!” MacKenna’s boyfriend, Jack, was a Beta Sig brother and one of the hottest guys on campus.
I’d never slammed a beer in my life so by the time I was done, beer dripped from my chin and I had to cover my mouth to conceal a huge burp.
“Ally. Hit it.” MacKenna stuffed some crumpled bills in Ally’s back pocket and she was off to grab more beer.
We spent a couple hours drinking and dancing. And I have to say, had I known it would only take a couple beers to numb my emotions so quickly, I’d have taken up drinking long ago. I only had three and I was more than a little buzzed.
I took advantage of my altered state and while I grooved to the music with the girls, I thought about my conversation with Oliver. Maybe I would just tell him that our “relationship”—if that’s what it even was—was too much of a distraction for me academically and that we needed to part ways. But, that wasn’t realistic. I’d told him numerous times that I’d always be there for him. And selfishly, I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
Nothing about telling him would be easy. There was no magic formula that would make it sting any less. It was what it was: a lie. And, I was just going to have to tell him everything. I owed it to him to be honest. He’d never been anything but with me.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
“Girls, I’ll be right back.” It was Oliver. I jogged over to the line of people waiting for the port-a-potty. I’d kill two birds with one stone.
“Hi.” I realized I shouldn’t have even picked up but I hadn’t heard from him since his T minus 3 text, and I got nervous when he went off the grid like that.
“Hi, love.” He breathed out a slow sigh.
Melting. Melting into a puddle in the grass. His voice had the potential to reduce my insides to liquid.
“How are—”
“Lexi, listen. I want you to ignore everything you see on Twitter today. All right? It’s not as bad as it seems.” His words were slightly slurred and he chuckled a little as he spoke. He’d been drinking…or something.
“I haven’t been on Twitter all day. What’s going on?”
“Well then, it’s nothing.” I heard him suck in a deep breath and then he spoke while only letting minimal air escape his lungs. He was high. “Just stay off it today. Let all the hype get buried.”
“Oliver�
�”
“Lexi, I have to go. I’ll text you after our set so I can hold your face in my hands and thank you for being my angel. See you soon, love.” And the line went dead.
Oh my word.
The port-a-potty was disgusting, so I didn’t even go. Opened the door, peered in and aborted that mission. I headed back to meet the girls but I couldn’t find them. They apparently moved from our original spot. I checked my phone for a text from them, but found nothing. I stood on my tiptoes to see if I could see them. Nothing. I thought maybe they’d just moved up closer so I walked straight into the crowd and walked as close to the stage as I could get before I was basically stuck in what was very similar to an ice jam.
If you’ve ever seen the news coverage of an ice jam, you know what I’m talking about. The ice moves in the same direction until it is so packed, there’s nowhere else for it to go. Some smaller pieces slide up on top of the big pieces. In a concert crowd, the smaller people hop up onto someone’s shoulders. Well, I was that piece that just got stuck dead center as people filled in the empty space behind me. I couldn’t move. There were people I didn’t know touching me. The damp arms and chests of guys I’d never seen before were tight against me. I started to panic.
When I was three, I got lost in a busy shopping mall at Christmas time. My mom said I was only without her for minutes, but in my mind it was much, much longer. I was terrified; whether it was mere minutes or an hour, I was left scarred. And large crowds were a trigger. I was jam packed into the middle of the worst trigger I’d ever experienced.
My heart began to race, getting faster and faster each moment as I searched for familiar female heads but didn’t see any. My body temperature spiked in reaction to being wedged between a couple dozen large bodies. The music of the band on stage, Stark Raving Mad, was deafening. They were a scream-o band and the song they sang was dark and haunting. My mind raced and my body reacted to a level of fear I was sure I’d never felt before. Like the earth would soon break open beneath my feet and Satan himself would pull me to Hell.
I didn’t know what to do. It would be impossible to move closer to the stage and I felt like I was literally dead center. I’d have to brave this purgatory until…until when, I had no idea. I focused on my breathing and tilted my head back so I could focus on the stage and not on how deeply I was embedded in the nest of humans.
“Let’s give another hand for SRM! Weren’t they amazing?” Jack was president of the fraternity so he took on the role of emcee. Just recognizing his voice took away a small amount of my panic. “You know Beta Sig would never let you down. And you know it’s customary for us to have a surprise appearance during the day.” The crowd went wild. I have no idea what else he said before he screamed at the top of his lungs, “Please, give a proud U of M welcome to Phobia5!”
Thousands of people momentarily lost their minds. I was packed in so tightly that when the people around me started to jump up and down, they actually lifted me off the ground a little. It was terrifying.
I heard a male voice close to my ear but I couldn’t hear what he said. I looked around to see who it was. A wide, beautiful smile met my gaze.
“You wanna get on my shoulders?” Normally I would be hesitant, thinking some drunken jackass would get off having my crotch rubbing the back of his neck, but I was desperate. I nodded and without any trouble, he hoisted me to his shoulders. The warm air felt cool against the sweat on my arms, not all of which was my own. Yuck. A wave of relief rushed through me and my body began to relax. I reached for his shoulders to adjust the way I sat and when my spread palm couldn’t span either one, I realized I could sit there all day and it wouldn’t cause him any discomfort. Then he handed me a cold beer from the hands of one of his friends and patted my thigh with his chilled hand.
I pulled my hair into a ponytail and wrapped it into a messy bun. Air hit my sweaty neck like a quick blast from an air conditioner. A recognizable tune sprung from the speakers and I let myself drown in all that was Oliver. My slowed pace sped right back up when my eyes landed on his bushy head and wide, shy smile.
“Wow, thanks so much for the fabulous welcome. You’re all too kind but I love it. I eat this shit up!”
He strummed a couple chords on the baby-blue guitar that hung from his neck and my stomach flipped over itself. I squeezed the big shoulders beneath me to keep from passing out. Oliver closed his eyes and I watched his shirtless, tattooed chest rise and fall slowly a couple times. His hair hung in front of his face and he batted it out of the way. Then he lifted his sunglasses and pushed his lush, dark locks back and set his glasses atop his head. I swear my heart skipped a beat. At the end of my senior year I only knew him as the guy from Phobia5. And just four months later, he’d become one of the most important people in my life. I was so blessed by his beautiful soul in so many ways.
Oliver scanned the crowd as he picked strings and strummed his guitar. His eyes stopped here and there, he’d smile or wink, and then he’d look some more. It was then that I realized he was looking for Lexi. My heart twisted into a knot that I wasn’t sure would ever come loose. My adventure into the world of what was currently called “catfishing” on the MTV documentary-style series, built him up brick by brick as our relationship grew. But the truth could reduce his broken soul to a pile of rubble if I wasn’t careful. Our story of friendship and trust could potentially leave a scar on both of our hearts, and it was completely my fault. I could kick myself for not ’fessing up right at the beginning when Oliver began sending me direct messages. That early in the game he wouldn’t have cared. He would have understood and encouraged me to step out of my comfort zone. He would have helped me to safely discover who I was outside of the honors dorm. But beyond that, he would have gotten to know me, Kate, and what we shared would have been real. Trust would be the foundation.
Someone squeezed my knee. I looked down into the handsome face that belonged to the shoulders I was atop.
“You want another beer?” He smiled and showed me a gorgeous set of deep dimples.
“Please.” He took my empty cup and handed me a cold cup from the many his friend had just returned with.
“I’m Jason, by the way.”
“I’m Kate. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Another glorious smile. If I had to pick ten of the hottest guys in the crowd, there was no doubt in my mind Jason would be in that lineup. His slate-blue Corona t-shirt was tight enough to reveal his ripped body but not so tight he looked cocky. Blond hair, aviators and a sexy mouth.
“Thanks for the seat. Am I hurting you?” I really was taking advantage of his brawn.
“Not at all. I barely know you’re there. Besides, I forgot my hat and you’re shading my head. I guess you could say I’m using you.” He nodded. “Bottoms up, Kate.”
I nodded and smiled and took a long, slow swig from my beer just as Oliver played the introductory chords to “Drink You In.” I closed my eyes and focused on all the sensations of that moment. Oliver’s talented fingers made beautiful music that was born of his broken, hurting soul. The sun beat down on my back and leached into my bones like a drug that warmed me from the inside out. Jason bounced me just enough for it to soothe my sadness. And the beer I’d successfully chugged in four long swigs helped to maintain the buzz that would keep some of my anxiety at bay.
Oliver sang a beautiful description of a woman that was always just out of his reach; a woman he wanted to literally ingest just to keep her close. I’d always thought the song was about a former lover but after his recent comment about not having a mom, I wondered if this woman was just that…a woman. His mom. The closer I listened the more I was positive his mom, wherever she was, was the inspiration for the words leaving his lips.
Tragedy tastes like poison
Your love not much better
I scream, I cry, I crumble
I scream, I cry, I crumble
Why, Why, Why
But, I’ll show you
Because I’ll continue
to live
Broken from my loss
And drowning in my sin
The sin, given to me by you
You
You
You
I’ll drink you in
Choke you down
You’ll never leave
Draggin’ me down
Drink you in, drink you in, drink you in
Drunk
The crowd went wild. Jason clapped so hard against his cup its contents erupted all over my flip-flopped feet. His strong hands wiped them and he flashed me a panty-dropping apologetic smile.
Oliver dropped his head down as the drums slowed their cadence and the song ended. Then his eyes searched the crowd again. I felt the hope he held within to find her face, to lay eyes on the soul that had been his only solid confidant for months.
The beginning of “Darlin’” began and I saw a change in his face. At first I thought it was simply a reaction to his love for the song. He’d once told me it was the first song he’d ever performed so it would always hold a special place in his heart. But the longer I watched him, the more I realized his eyes were locked on someone in the crowd. The instrumental portion of the introduction played out. I watched him point to someone and made a heart shape with his hands, and he then brought the shape to his chest. Girls everywhere shrieked and squealed. Then a dark-haired girl raised her arms and mimicked the heart he’d made with her own hands. She swayed back and forth to the beat of the music and he blew her a kiss. I squinted to try and see the girl he flirted with.
Oh, Oliver. That’s not Lexi.
Sweet Jesus, I was going to hell.
“This song is going out to someone very special to me. We’ve not known each other for very long but she’s where my strength comes from. She knows who she is.”
And with that he went right into the lyrics of “Darlin’,” which were almost too sweet for Phobia5’s style, but Oliver Walt could get away with anything on stage and he knew it. It was his favorite song and he’d do with it what he wanted.
When I Lied Page 5
