Loud and clear.It’s impossible not to get it, given the way she’s looking at me.I swallow hard, then salute.“Yes, ma’am.”
It’s a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood, and she doesn’t seem to appreciate my sense of humor.She shakes her head gently, but then, eyes still sparkling, she whispers, “Get tae fuck, Fantino,” which might just have taken on a different meaning, these days, then walks past me into the dining room.
It takes me a second or two to follow, because I need time to process what just happened.She hugged me, but I’m not naive enough to think that makes everything fine between us again.No way.
Olive sits as far from me as she can at breakfast, but she keepsglancing at my plate.She only starts to look moderately reassured once I’ve eaten.After that, we ignore each other for another six hours.This is exhausting, and I’m through with it.
Olive is finding it exhausting too.I can see the tension in her face.She looks tired.And desperate.I hate being the reason for that.We sit in classrooms, sneak glances, immediately turning away when the other notices.
And then the last class is over.Everyone else hurries out of the room into the bit of free time before study hour, and Olive slowly packs her bag.It’s probably presumptuous to interpret that as a sign she’s ready for a conversation.But I have to speak to her.I can’t bear this silence between us any longer.
She looks up as I shut the classroom door once the group has vanished through it.“What’s the matter, Colin?”She sounds tired and resigned.And she says “Colin” because she’s not in the mood for games.I know that much, these days.
I walk over to her.“I have to talk to you.”
For a moment, I’m certain she’ll laugh, throw her dark-blue bag over her shoulder, and walk past me, out of the room.But she doesn’t.She just crosses her arms over her chest and perches on the edge of the desk behind her chair.
“Fine.”There are two desks between us, which apparently makes her feel safe enough to give me a challenging nod.“Talk.”
Yes...talk.But that means knowing what I need to say to her.And beyondI’m sorry, there isn’t much.“Are we still fighting?”I ask instead.
Olive looks at me and I can’t read her expression.“We aren’t fighting, Colin.This is worse.”
Ouch.“I know.”I could cry.“And I didn’t want to keep secrets from you.I wanted to put it all behind me.I didn’t think it would matter here.I didn’t know...”
“It doesn’t matter here, because you’re not to blame for what happened at this school,” she says to my surprise.“But what does matter is that you didn’t tell me the truth.”
“I know,” I repeat.What else can I say?
“Why?”she asks.“Why didn’t you say anything?I told you everything.I undressed in front of you—I had a bloody panic attack, Colin.You didn’t say anything.You just walked out.That would’ve been the time when you could’ve told me, wouldn’t it?”
It’s not like I didn’t know all this only too well, but hearing again everything I’ve done wrong, from Olive this time, is painful.
“I was scared.”I keep talking.“I didn’t want all this.I didn’t want to be at this school, and I certainly didn’t want to fall in love.But you left me no choice, and by the time I realized that, I also knew that there was no way to be together with you and to tell you the truth without hurting you.”
“And keeping secrets from me seemed like a sensible solution?”
I can’t look at her.“No.”
“But you did it anyway?”
“Yes, I did, because it’s clearly my fucking destiny in life to always get everything wrong.”I’d told myself I wouldn’t shout, but I’m already failing at that.
“You could stop using that belief as an excuse for every situation where you wimp out and take the easy option.”
“Easy?You think this is easy for me?”
“I don’t know, Colin!I really don’t know, because I’m starting to get the feeling I don’t know you one tiny bit.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“I don’t know anything.I don’t know who you are.I don’t know how much I can believe you about what really happened, how much of what you told me is true.I don’t even know if I’d ever have found out if I hadn’t got those messages.”
“Wait, who even sent you those?”I interrupt.
“Not a clue.And does it matter?”
“Not really, but I’d still like to know.”
