Chapter twenty-eight
Olive
"Howdidthatnoisecome out of someone so tiny?" Jenna asks from somewhere behind me.
I have no idea what sound she’s talking about.
So, I ignore her. I’m good at tuning things out, especially when they make my brain hurt.
"I shared a womb with her," Lizzie adds, "and to this day, I’ll never understand it."
Their voices blur together, just background noise I can’t seem to process.
I’m too busy trying to blink away the blur in my vision, the way the lights tilt every time I move. My whole body is buzzing. Numb in some places, oversensitive in others.
My legs feel like jelly.
Heavy.
Useless.
I try to stand, but it’s like my brain's short-circuiting before the message even gets through.
Is this just the alcohol? Or is this a new symptom? I can’t tell.
"If Cass could see her right now, she’d lose it. Her baby sister, drunk on a curb outside a club, about to marry some guy she barely knows." Jenna snickers as she and Lizzie drop down on either side of me.
"I'm living my life," I mutter with a shrug. Barely audible, but they get the gist. I think.
I shift on the concrete, and wince. My heels feel like medieval torture devices.
"And I’m sitting because my feet hurt," I add, gesturing down at the shoes like they personally betrayed me. "Why do women think these are a good idea? They’re literally the worst thing ever invented. They hurt. They don’t make my legs look longer. And they make my toes stick out funny."
I shudder, resisting the urge to rip them off and let my feet rest on the nasty Vegas sidewalk.
"And you know what else?" I go on, voice climbing. "I’m notboring. I’m actually really fun. But apparently it’s frowned upon to keep things to yourself and be a private person." I scrunch up my nose and close my eyes. The lights are too much. Everything is. "Well, sorry that I don’t like to share my entire soul with the general public." I wave a hand in the air, the words coming out half-defensive, half-pathetic.
Aimed at them.
At everyone.
"Olive…"
"And now, because of that, I have to marry a man, who by the way, is literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, just to keep my record label happy. But seriously, have youseenAvery Jones? Like,seenhim properly? Because I have, and that man…" I fan my face with my phone, which died hours ago and is now serving as a prop in my drunken ramblings. "It should be illegal to be that good-looking."
"Good thing he’s coming to get you soon, then." Lizzie nudges me.
"And I’m glad Cassandra isn’t here. She would worry. She has a new baby to focus on. She doesn’t need to stress about me. I can handle myself. Besides, you guys don’t even know half of what I’m dealing with. And you know why?" My eyes flick between them.
They both swallow laughter, patiently waiting for the punchline.
Unfortunately for them,Iam the butt of the joke.
"What could you possibly be hiding from me, Olive? I know you better than I know myself," Lizzie says, and Jenna snickers over her shoulder.
I make a game show buzzer sound. "Wrong. There are things about me that I’m not ready to share. And I don’t know when I will be ready, if ever. All you guys need to know is that I’m fine, I’m living my life, and going to be married and divorced long before I’m thirty." I sigh. "What a time to be me."
"It could be worse," Jenna says, clearing her throat loudly—clearly fishing. None of us bite.
