Page 77 of The Time It Takes
“Well, lying means, you asked if I did something and I did, but I tell you I didn’t. Not telling the truth is just never asking anything. No ask—no tell. It’s not lying.”
He looks at me curiously but doesn’t say anything more about it. “Do you need a ride back to the house?”
“No, I can get a Lyft. It’s no problem.”
His eyes fall to my shirt, and he laughs. “No one—and I mean no sane person is letting you in their car looking like that.”
I look down at my bloody attire and groan at how right he is. I look up at him and chew on my bottom lip in thought.
“What?” he asks.
“What car did you drive here?”
His lips curl in a fiendish grin. “How do you think I got here so fast?”
A thought occurs to me. “How did you know I was here?”
“Dean.”
Despite everything that’s happened today, I find myself smiling softly to myself as we step outside the hospital doors. The sun assaults my eyes and I squint at him.
“Can I drive?”
“No.”
I roll my eyes but laugh at another memory of mine as we head toward the car. “Sexism is dead, Ollie.”
He glances back at me, and those eyes remind me of the forest when it storms. “And don’t mind me if I prefer to live, you little speed demon.”
I hum in response. I’ll have my hands back on that wheel soon enough whether he likes it or not.
BE MY FIRST. BE MY LAST. BE ALL THE NONSENSE IN BETWEEN.
Ten years ago
Tonight,Iwentwitha blue bikini under ripped jean shorts and one of Ben’s old rock band t-shirts that I cut into a crop top a couple of years ago. Oliver’s birthday party was tonight.
I could only stop by for a few minutes in the morning because his family sucked him into some birthday activities. It was long enough for me to scream the happy birthday song at the top of my lungs and steal a few pieces of bacon. His parents gave him the house tonight for the party, which was why they wanted to spend the day with him. They were going to stay at the hotel his father owned for the night and most likely pray that their house was in one piece when they returned in the morning.
I thought they were being lenient due to Oliver starting work with his father after the summer, but I also had a feeling something else might have been going on—something Oliver wasn’t telling me.
Ben and I walked over to Oliver’s house together in silence. We hadn’t talked about that night since the morning after. While a part of me wanted to check in, I trusted him to do the right thing, because that was who he was.
The sun had disappeared hours ago, and the thumping of music only intensified the closer we got down the beach.
We walked up the sandy path that led to the house. We were greeted by more people than I expected. There was no way Oliver knew every single one of those people. There had to be over a hundred of them.
Uneasiness flowed through me at the thought of someone trashing his parents’ house. Then I realized that should be the least of my concerns when I saw Oliver in the corner getting cozy with some girl.
What the fuck?
I had to mentally correct myself because it wasn't any of my business and it wasn’t something that should concern someone who was only a friend. Even though we almost kissed and had grown closer in a different way, we still hadn’t crossed that line, nor had we spoken one word about any of it. I had no claim to him in that way, so I swallowed my jealousy and joined the rest of the party.
I ignored the twist in my gut and admired the string lights that draped across the patio and pool instead. Naturally, there were people already forming clicks and huddling in groups.
Ben and I made our way through the crowd of people dancing—more like dry-humping each other—and headed for the open bar. A man stood behind it, dressed in swim trunks and a loose bowtie.
I snorted.So classy.
