I didn’t know what to think about the whole Oliver thing. It was hard to remember the night before. It only came in bits and pieces, but I thought back on the dance we shared and remembered how intimate it felt.
I could remember his hands on my hips and how his body moved perfectly in sync with mine. I thought about the butterflies in my stomach and how my heart pounded wildly against my chest. I remembered thinking that he and I were going to be all over each other, and then he threw me over his shoulder and carried me out of there, only confirming my thoughts. It felt like he couldn’t wait another second to have me alone. Of course, I had to go and ruin the moment by throwing up in the parking lot.
I wasn’t embarrassed about the night before. I was embarrassed about that morning when I leaned in, hoping to get a redo on that kiss, only for him to pull away.
I hated being rejected, and what made it worse was that I didn’t really know why he rejected me. I knew the answer he gave me, but I couldn’t help but feel like maybe he’d had a change of heart, like maybe he only wanted me because we’d been drinking. But then again, did I really want to start messing around with a guy I barely knew when I’d just left such a long relationship on bad terms?
There was no denying how good-looking Oliver was. Any red-blooded woman could’ve looked at him and gotten weak in the knees. And I did every time our eyes locked. There was just something about those green eyes that had a chokehold on me. They were so expressive. Since meeting him only a few days before, I’d seen them go from bright green and playful to dark and serious. His lips were thick, and his bone structure was that of a Greek God with his high cheekbones and an angular jaw. He was tall, with the kind of body every guy wanted. I loved how tiny I felt when he picked me up, how protected I felt with him around. And I was beginning to think that there wasn’t anything that man couldn’t get me to do. I’d already stolen a car with him and even broken into a house.
Even when I woke up on the ride, I pretended to be asleep until I actually fell back asleep. I didn’t wake up for good until later that evening when Oliver pulled off for the night.
“Where are we?” I asked, leaning my seat back up into its rightful position.
He killed the engine and stretched with a groan. “Somewhere in Idaho. Figured we’d have some dinner and turn in for the night. How are you feeling now that you’ve gotten some sleep?”
“I feel better. Not one-hundred percent, but better.” I shrugged.
“Maybe some dinner will help. Come on.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. I followed him into the diner, and we sat at the first open booth we came to.
The diner was like all the others we’d come across on our little journey. It wasn’t packed, but it wasn’t dead either. It looked like it was mostly locals, everyone knowing everyone, except for when random people that just happened to be passing through stopped in.
We didn’t have to wait long before the waitress came over and took our order. I went with my usual chicken strips and fries, while Oliver ordered some sort of meatloaf-and-mashed-potato combo.
The last thing I wanted to talk about was the night before, our kiss, or how he backed away when I tried to kiss him earlier in the day. What I really wanted was to just forget that any of it had happened. I sure wasn’t going to bring it up, and I wanted to try and make sure that he wasn’t going to bring it up either. I didn’t want to be rejected a third time.
I figured the only way I’d be able to ensure he didn’t was by keeping him talking about other things, so any time there was a lull in conversation, I was filling it with whatever popped into my head, making me look like I had some serious ADHD.
“You know how we were always told in health class that we breathe in oxygen but that we exhale carbon dioxide?”
He frowned, but nodded, clearly wondering where I was going.
“Well, then, how does mouth-to-mouth work?”
His face was slack. “What?”
“If we breathe out carbon dioxide, how are we giving the person who isn’t breathing oxygen? Wouldn’t we just be giving them carbon dioxide?”
His face pinched for a moment. I didn’t know whether he was trying to figure out an answer or was still just confused aboutwhy I was asking in the first place. Either way, he shook his head as if to clear it.
“Why the hell are you asking me this?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know… Just something I’ve always wondered.”
“You’ve had the internet your entire life. Why didn’t you just Google it?”
I shrugged. “I guess it was never really that important.”
“It probably would be if you ever needed to give someone CPR.”
There was a guy sitting a couple of booths away from us, and he turned around.
“Not to butt into your conversation, but I couldn’t help but overhear your question. I work on an ambulance and am regularly trained on CPR. So, to answer your question: there is carbon dioxide when we exhale, but there is still oxygen, too. The actual amount of oxygen drops by only a few percent between inhalation and exhalation. It’s roughly seventeen percent oxygen.”
“Good to know,” I said, pursing my lips and nodding. “Thank you.”
He offered a nod and turned around.
“You’re so fucking weird,” Oliver mumbled as he lightly shook his head.
