Olivia's POV
"Olivia?"
I glance down the bus to find Brooke sitting on one of the double seats and waving me over. A loud, exasperated sigh comes from behind me, but since we're on a semi-packed bus I can't stop and question Samuel what's bothering him. Instead, I shoot him a quick glance and then use the surrounding poles for balance until I reach Brooke's side.
"Who was that?" Brooke asks as I sit next to her and Samuel positions himself right beside me so that his right hand is resting on the back of my seat. "The guy you hugged before you got onto the bus?"
"He's just a friend." I breathe out in relief when I gather that Brooke didn't recognize her own cousin. The last thing I want to do is to explain what is going on between Nick and me; especially because of the darkening energy radiating off Samuel. "How come you're taking the bus? Did something happen to your car?"
"The stupid thing broke down a week or two ago, and it's still in the workshop," Brooke says.
"I've never actually seen your new car before, have I?" I scroll through my memories but come up empty. "What does it look like?"
"It's a car." Brooke flicks her hair off her shoulder.
I wait for her to add anything, but she remains tight-lipped. "Is anything new going on with you? A new boyfriend I don't know about?"
"No." Brooke snaps her eyes to the window beside her.
I have no idea why she's hiding the fact that she and Weston are dating, but before I can ask her, Samuel clasps my shoulder.
"Leave it," he says without really looking at me. "Count to three."
I glare at him, but because he refuses to meet my eyes I turn back to the front and force myself to remain silent for the rest of the bus ride. The moment the three of us get off the bus, Brooke excuses herself. With nothing but a quick wave, she runs down the sidewalk and rounds the corner onto our street. Instead of following her, I remain rooted to my spot and turn toward Samuel.
"What's your problem?" I ask. "You've been frowning for the entire bus ride, so there's obviously something bugging you. Is it still about Nick?"
"It's not him." Samuel shakes his head and averts his eyes.
"Then what is it?"
"Nothing."
"It's obviously not nothing." I cross my arms in front of my chest. "Tell me what's wrong."
Samuel continues to keep his eyes on the surrounding street before he snaps them over to me. The dark edge in his caramel gaze makes me want to edge a step back, but I force myself to remain still.
"It's everybody," he hisses. "I want to be alone with you, but there's never a right moment. You're always surrounded by humans. It's gettingâ"
I don't allow him to finish. Instead, I grab the front of his shirt and pull him down so we're almost on eye level. I hesitate for a single second before I rise to my tiptoes and press my lips against his. It's nothing but a quick peck, but that doesn't stop the big smile, which crooks my lips when I pull back to look into his wide eyes.
"We're alone right now."
It's all I need to say before Samuel sneaks his arms behind my back and tugs me flush against his body. My breath hitches and I part my lips just as he leans down and captures my lips with his. My peck from before is nothing compared to the fireworks that weaken my knees right now. For the life of me, I can't bring myself to care about what I must look like to random humans passing by. The only thing I know is that I don't want the kiss to stop.
Despite my wishes, we slowly part and before I can lean in for another kiss, Samuel wraps his hand around mine. He tugs me in the direction of our house and with a loud sigh, I follow him.
Hand-in-hand we enter the kitchen through the back door and upon the first step, I run nose-first into a cloud of dark energy. Its source is sitting on my usual chair, but instead of plucking the petals off the bouquet one by one, Eliza is grabbing whole blossoms and ripping them off their stems.
"Eliza? What's with the gloomy atmosphere? Where's Mom?" I'm about to turn in the direction of Mom's bedroom, but Eliza's next words stop me.
"Don't bother. Mina already took two sleeping pills."
"Two? It's barely six in the evening."
"What happened?" Samuel tightens his hand around mine.
Eliza rips out the last blossom and drops it onto the table. "Mina was fired."
"What?" Samuel and I ask at the same time.
"A client complained about her and her boss fired her."
I stare at Eliza's profile, trying to wrap my head around what she just said. No matter how many seconds pass though, it still doesn't make sense to me.
"How can that be? Mom loves her job. She would never do anything to jeopardize it."
"Apparently it was a very important client." Eliza shrugs.
I shake my head, but that doesn't stop the single question from flashing like a neon sign inside my mind. Who? Who would dare complain about my mother and get her fired?
*
I sit with my legs perched on the kitchen chair and watch Mom enter the kitchen. Instead of her pajamas, which I expect her to be dressed in the morning after she lost her job, I find her dressed in one of her usual dresses and a pair of small heels.
"Liv?" She stops in the open doorway. "What are you doing up? Are you going to the café?"
"No." I eye her over the edge of the cup of coffee I'm holding in my hands. "I have today off."
"Oh." She nods and then heads for the fridge. "Do you want me to make you some breakfast?"
Despite there being only the two of us there isn't a single lock of her hair out of place. But because I know what I'm looking for, I don't miss the way she never meets my eyes.
I set the cup of steaming coffee onto the table next to me. "When are you planning to tell me that you were fired?"
"What?" Mom snaps her eyes up to mine, while she loosens her grip on the empty cup in her hands. The cup bounces off the edge of the kitchen counter and upon reaching the floor cracks into a hundred sharp shreds. Yet neither Mom nor I move to pick them up.
"How do you know about that?"
"It doesn't matter." I hug my legs to my chest and peer at her over the top of my knees. "The real question is when were you planning to tell me? Were you even going to tell me?"
"Of course I was... Eventually... In a few years."
"I'm seventeen, Mom." I let go of my legs and sit up straight. "Tell me what I need to do. Do I quit school and get a full-time job? Or should we first go through the college fund we set aside from Dad's child support?"
"Don't even think about quitting school, or I'll shave off every last lock of your hair." Mom shakes her raised index finger at me. "And we're not touching a single dime in your college fund."
"Then what? How are we going to live?"
"Since when is there only one hair salon in all of Portland?" Mom rolls her eyes. "And if I don't find a job in town, then we'll just move."
"Can you at least promise to tell me if things don't work out? I need to know if I have to talk Dad into helping us."
"Peyton?" With the snap of a second, the temperature inside the kitchen drops by two degrees. "He's not even in Portland right now."
"He's already back fromâ" I clasp my hand over my mouth, but it's already too late.
"He's back? How do you know?"
"I... I ran into him at the café."
"He knows where you work?" Mom's body is now a rigid cutting board.
"He's still my father."
"Unfortunately," Mom hisses, grabs her bag, and then storms out of the house.
Because I know there's nothing I can do to mend the situation, I stand and move over to the broken cup still lying on the floor. With a sigh, I begin to pick up the shreds, while making sure I don't cut myself on any of their sharp edges.
"Olivia?"
I glance up at the unexpected voice and find Samuel rushing to my side. He crouches down beside me and takes the broken pieces out of my hands. Then he forces me to move a step away, while he finishes cleaning the mess.
"What happened?" he asks once he discards the broken pieces into the trash.
"You were right." I slump into my usual chair. "I shouldn't have told Mom about Dad. I'm lucky I didn't mention him stalking me, otherwise, she would be filing a restraining order right now."
"Can you blame her?" Samuel walks back over to me and leans against the table.
"No," I mumble and slump against the back of the chair.
Samuel clears his throat. "You haven't been up long, have you?"
I snap my eyes down to my body and realize that I'm still dressed in my pajamasâa pair of gray shorts and an oversized T-shirt with the words sleep tight written right across my chest. What causes me to jump to my feet though, is the fact that I haven't yet bothered to wash my face, clean my teeth, or comb my hair.
Talk about a mess.
***
Please, remember to vote and comment if you like the chapter.
Much love
- E