“That’s not fair,” I tell her.
“You’re right,” she agrees. “But don’t look something good in the face and walk away, Hunter. Don’t do it. That’s all I’m going to say.” Except, that’s not all she’s going to say. “That girl over there, Charlotte, she’s a keeper, so don’t mess it up. Make yourself happy, even if it’s only for Olive’s sake.” Now, she’s done.
“Daddy always makes me happy,” Olive chimes in, avoiding eye contact with Mom. “Always.”
Mom hands me the envelope she’s been holding tightly in her hands and pulls Olive into her. “I know, sweetheart. This is just grownup talk.”
Olive looks up at her, gazing straight into Mom’s eyes. “He does the best he can,” she says, following her last defense.
Mom closes her eyes, hopefully realizing she’s gone too far once again. “You’re right, Olive,” she says. With a loud sigh, Mom stands back up and walks into the kitchen, calling out, “Harold, it’s time to go.” And this is how most Sundays end. Mom’s feelings get hurt and Dad leaves all discombobulated from his food coma.
Dad meanders into the living room, rubbing at his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Just the usual invitation to leave,” Mom says to him as if I told them to leave. Her passive aggressive comment isn’t worth the argument, though. I learned long ago that I won’t win, and she will just end up feeling more hurt.
“Well, I guess we’ll see you next Sunday,” Dad says lazily. He leans down and squeezes Olive, then thwacks his hand against my back. “Take care of yourself, kiddo.”
Mom gives me a cold hug and sighs against my cheek. “I love you even if you hate me.” More motherly guilt, but I’m not letting it get to me today.
They walk out together, leaving a gust of silence behind them as the door slams. “It’s okay, Daddy,” Olive says.
“Am I really doing okay?” I ask her.
She wraps her arms around my leg, leaning her face against my side. “You’re doing great,” Olive replies. “Oh! I almost forgot! I have to get ready to go Lana’s!” I look down at my watch, seeing it’s already four. Where the hell did this day go?
After a couple of hours of mindlessly watching the game, I pull out my phone and send Charlotte a text—refocusing on where my thoughts have all been going since I left her house a couple hours ago.
Me: Pizza?
Charlotte: Yeah…‘whatever’;).
Me: Pizza and ‘whatever’. Got it.
As I slip my phone back into my pocket, the thought of a decision I’ve made plays out in my head, where I feel a combination of desire and fear beating the shit out of each other. Growing up, my situation was different than the average guy; I was only with one woman because there was no other woman for me. I don’t know what another woman would even be like, whether she would be different, better or worse.
Neither Ellie nor I knew what we were doing when we took that step in our relationship. We were sixteen and her parents had to go out of town for the weekend. She said she was scared to stay home alone all night, so I told her I’d come over, regardless of her parents’ strict rules of no boys in the house when they weren’t home. When it came to rules for Ellie and me, we broke every single one. Young love isn’t something to tamper with since our hormones were raging at a rate I still have trouble comprehending.
We were only friends, best friends, until a few months before that particular weekend.
Everything between us shifted during a birthday party with the good old Spin-the-Bottle game. As fate had it, the combination of momentum and the velocity of the bottle wanted us to kiss.
The moment I had imagined most nights as I was falling asleep was only seconds away from happening. I was going to savor the taste of her lips. She moved toward me first, quickly to start, then much slower as the space between us closed. Her focus was locked on mine. There were no apparent nerves, just a small smile, a smile I would see so many more times throughout our lifetime—her lifetime. She closed her eyes, waiting for me to meet her halfway, which felt like a mile in that moment. My heart pounded, sweat was beading on my forehead, and my breath lodged in my throat. It was anow-or-nevermoment. I considered it being aneverbecause I thought if I didn’t have the balls to do it at that second, I would never be able to do it. My eyes closed and I leaned forward, forgetting about the two-dozen eyes staring at what would be our first kiss. Music was playing in my head, my heart was no longer pounding, but dribbling a slow beat as my fingers swept across her cheek and into her silky blond curls. Our lips were only separated by two inches of air, filled with magnetizing particles of attraction. Adrenaline took over and our lips met. It wasn’t one of those passionate kisses like we had when we were older, where I would surprise her from behind and lift her up until she was pinned against a wall beneath my grip. This one was stationary, pretty much devoid of motion, our lips connecting and locking into place as we sat there for what felt like hours. I took the opportunity to inhale her skin and the fragrance of her shampoo. Everything changed and happened in that one second—I fell in love with my best friend. Just before our kiss ended, her lips made one small movement—they curled into a smile I could feel against my mouth.
When she pulled away, and she had to because I never would have, her hazel eyes were wide and I swear to God I saw a twinkle in them. That shit doesn’t really happen, but it did in that moment.
What the fuck am I doing? “Olive,” I yell up to her.
“Yeah?” she shouts, hopping down the steps in her party dress.
“I’m not feeling so well, sweetie.”
“Oh no, do you need me to call the doctor?” she asks. “Do you need soup? I can call Charlotte.”
“No, no soup—or Charlotte. I just need to lie down for a bit,” I tell her.
“No Lana’s?”
I look at her sad eyes for a long minute, trying to think of a way to explain to her why it’s not a good idea to go over there but there is no way to make her understand that I’m scared of feeling something even remotely close to what I felt for Ellie. I will tarnish memories. I’ll forget sensations, feelings, and what my heart once felt like.
