Page 11 of Expecting an Argument
I had kept up appearances after the…family eventhappened senior year, so no one could have known why my grades had suddenly slipped after years of being on top, but Olivia had sensed my pain and relished in it. I couldn’t even receive my silver salutatorian medal in peace without her cutting me a smug glance and whispering, “You’renothing,Beau Fontaine.”
I wanted so badly to call her a bitch in front of the entire class, but I kept my mouth shut. The family had kept everything too quiet for me to blow up at some girl from the bad side of town.
If I hadn’t lost my cool over losing the state championship game, I sure as hell wasn’t going to lose control over Olivia Adams.
Though just because I kept quiet didn’t mean I forgave her cruelty. A few months ago, I had been doom-scrolling through my socials when I found a video of Olivia doing a silly little twirl in a blue dress. The insufferably uptight valedictorian was all tits and hips in that dress, so I formed a plan for my revenge as I watched the video on repeat.
I was going to get under that little blue skirt at the class reunion and humble her once and for all. Either I was going to leave her so sexually frustrated that she combusted or fuck her so thoroughly that she would beg on her hands and knees for more. And since I had chosen the latter plan…
I took out my phone and checked the direct messages of allmy socials—dry as a bone.
I furrowed my brows. Nearly two months had passed andnothing?Sure, my profile picture was a photo of Titus and all I ever posted were landscapes of the ranch and a few pics of fun drinks that I had made, but Olivia could have found me if she tried.
Damn. My plan may not have gone the way I wanted, but Olivia’s black lacy thong in my dresser drawer was a fine trophy regardless.
Titus lifted his head and gave me a look.
“Absolutely not,” I replied. “I don’t care how good it would feel to humble her,thatis not worth chasing.”
Though I couldn’t help but wonder how her luscious thighs would look dotted with bruises from my fingerprints…and I did miss the way her lip gloss stung the tip of my tongue.
No.I hadn’t lost control over Olivia Adams when I was young and I sure as hell wasn’t going to now.
I tossed my phone onto a nearby cushion, leaving Olivia in that dusty attic—a fitting place to store old memories and forget about them.
The cold of the steel tumbler bit my fingertips as I picked up my drink. That was all a man needed—a good drink, a good dog, and some good football. Thanksgiving week couldn’t get any better.
My phone buzzed against the leather cushion and I paused mid-sip. After I had already heard from Chuck and my mom, I couldn’t think of who else would be texting me. Everyone at Fontaine Energy headquarters was off for Thanksgiving break. Aunt Liz was probably passed out drunk next to Mom on their flight. Dad didn’t even have a cell phone anymore…
The ice clinked in my tumbler as I gently set it down. I held my breath as I picked up my phone and read the notification—a text from an unknown number with a local area code.
With a flick of my thumb across the screen, I opened the message to read:
“Hey…it’s Olivia Adams. I’m pregnant.”
Ashley and I sat on her back porch listening to Tyson work in his shed while Tarik napped in the living room. Ashley chattered about all the happenings in town, but I focused on the whine of Tyson’s buzzsaw to keep the vomit at bay. We usually had our elbows pressed against her quartz kitchen island and buried ourselves knee-deep in gossip before family events, but evenstandingin her kitchen made me gag.
“Did you hear about Jessica Stalls?” Ashley said from her end of the porch swing. “Apparently, Clark found out their son wasn’t his and he filed for divorce last week. My mom heard from her friend that the actual father might be Dwayne Gibson.”
I turned to her, lifting my forehead from the cool chain of the porch swing. “Mr. Gibson? Our old gym teacher?”
“Yes!” Ashley shrieked.
I made a gagging noise, trying to not trigger myself to actually gag. “I thought I couldn’t have a worse baby daddy than Beau…but at least it’s not the man who wore knee-high socks and made me run laps until I cried.”
“Speaking of which, did Beau ever specify where he was meeting you for brunch?” Ashley asked.
I took a saltine cracker out of the sleeve that rested in my lap and nibbled on the corner. “No.”
Ashley pushed the toe of her black leather boot against the porch, letting our swing have a bit more momentum. “I’m surprised he waited so long after you told him.”
I swallowed my bit of cracker. “Well, he wanted to meet me sooner, but I told him I had Thanksgiving plans. Then I told him we were shopping the next day. I didn’t have enough energy to make up an excuse for Saturday, so…”
“So the procrastination train had to come to a stop,” Ashley finished before taking a sip of her hard cranberry seltzer.
I buried my hands in my hoodie pocket. Though I always had a tummy, my palms rested against an undeniable baby bump. Ashley never showed this early, not even with her second baby.
I cut a glance at Ashley’s pretty orange smock dress. She looked like a cover model for an autumnal magazine whereas I resembled a pumpkin that would sit in the background.
