Olivia’s smile grew, her eyes flashing icy cold in contrast. “Of course, I’d love to show her!” She turned her focus on me, her eyes piercing into my soul as she leaned forward. “Erich and I shared so muchice creamthere.”
Erich shuffled in his seat, avoiding my questioning glance between him and Olivia. The discomfort in the emphasis was apparent in the vacant way his eyes appeared gunmetal gray under the kitchen light, staring through the cabinets and walls a few feet away. I mentally buckled in for whatever gross game was being played out in front of me. I pulled myself closer to the table so I wouldn’t see Olivia feeling him up under the table anymore.
Was I supposed to feel bad for him, being subject to whatever innuendo was implied there?
Mystique’s hooded eyes reminded me of a sleepy cat as her gentle lips turned into a motherly smile. “You guys were so cute back then, sharing everything. I wish I had taken more pictures…”
Olivia’s smile grew, and with it, the burning in my head intensified. “So cute. We definitely shared a lot.” Why did she keep looking at me with these comments? “Erich always stole the cherry… from my sundae.” The emphasis on the word “cherry” caused my stomach to tighten, and I took a deep breath and held it in so I wouldn’t have to excuse myself from the table and inadvertently cause Mystique to worry something was wrong. “What do you think, Erich? Ice cream, cherries, bananas… ice cream sundaes were always so wonderful.”
Erich took a deep breath to compose himself. If I handed him my fork, he might try to slit his throat to be free. There was more shuffling under the table and a nearly inaudible “zip” sound. He stood up, holding his plate and reaching for mine.
“Are you finished?” He could’ve been addressing myself or Olivia at that point.
I nodded, my attention following him as he took the paper plates to the trash can. Olivia again took her chance to glance at me, but I only caught it from the far-right field of my vision.
Mystique took Erich’s leave as her cue to clean up as well, shutting the pizza box and getting up to store it in the fridge. Before I could be left alone with Olivia, Erich was back. He didn’t sit back down. He stood against the wall in silence, his sharply clenched jaw visible under the dying kitchen light as Mystique shut the fridge and returned to the table.
“Well, it’s a little late, and I’m sure the three of you would like to talk.” Mystique offered a gentle smile before setting a soft hand on my shoulder, steadying my vertigo enough to groundme in reality. “I have a job tonight, so I won’t be home until late, if not the morning. You guys help yourselves to whatever is in the fridge.”
With how small the apartment was, she made it through the arched doorway of the kitchen to the hallway in two wide steps. Mystique grabbed her jacket—a maroon felt with fake fur on the hood—from the hooks by the door and slipped it on.
“Play nice, you three.” She waved and stepped out the door, shutting it behind her. The creak of the staircase sounded throughout the apartment before the second door opened and closed, and we were alone.
“Well, don’t we have a fun crowd? Just me, Polly Pocket, and a man who found Jesus.” Olivia flashed another sarcastic smirk, her eyes shining with mischief.
Before she could offer a solution on what to do next, Erich interrupted her.
“I’m going to sleep.”
Olivia scowled. “Sleep? Didn’t you just get here a few hours ago? We have a lot to talk about. It’s been a while since you stopped by.”
Erich scowled at her. His narrowed, stormy eyes caused me to involuntarily gulp. “You think I want totalkafter you grabbed my dick under the table?”
I was confronted again with my feeling of uselessness. I had no part in that conversation, and I shouldn’t have been hearing it. Did Erich regret coming back yet? Should I have demanded we keep driving instead of letting him call the shots this morning?
“You must’ve liked it. You didn’t say anything to stop me.” She shrugged halfheartedly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You always did like the sexual tension of getting felt up in front of my mom. My poor, clueless mom… Is that what turns you on?”
Erich’s burning glare was no match for Olivia’s triumphant grin. I had my answer. She typically won.
“I know you so well, don’t I?” she prodded innocently and laughed, purposely turning toward him and having her back to me. I was hostage to whateverthatwas. Her finger jabbed into his chest as she continued her verbal assault. “Modest my ass. You haven’t changed at all.”
Erich’s shoulders rose and fell with his breathing as Olivia closed in. He didn’t back down in their staring match, the cold gray of his irises daring her to push him further.
“What are you going to do, hit me?” she asked, crossing her arms. She was now up against him, staring up into his face defiantly.
For a second, I believed he would, with how his fists tightened at his sides. Instead, he put one hand on her shoulder, swiftly moving her up against the wall and forcing a mocking laugh from her lips as her shoulders thumped against the peeled wallpaper. He then trudged past us and left the kitchen.
I was alone with Olivia again. From her new place against the wall, her cheeks were flushed as her gaze followed the path Erich took from the room.
“There’s your show. You know where you’re sleeping. Don’t bother me tonight—or at all while you’re here—and I won’t bother you, Country Bumpkin.” She pulled herself from the wall and followed Erich out of the room.
It was only eight at night. I wasn’t too sure if Erich was legitimately tired or seeking an escape from Olivia. After debating whether I’d go talk with him before I turned in, I decided against it and found myself following the hallway to the spare room shown to me moments before.
I closed the door as softly as I could before I stripped out of my clothes and into an old pair of flannel sweats and a ripped Dr. Dre concert T-shirt laid out for me by Mystique.
She said they were Olivia’s. I was not eager to put them on. But it was what I had, so I might as well use it. The pants were a little big, but the shirt was baggy and comfortable, which I was thankful for.
The spare room was small. It was big enough for a single twin-sized bed, a table with a lamp, and a small bookcase with many different titles on it. There was an open closet space barely big enough to hang a few shirts, but it was filled with shoe boxes and winter jackets. The top shelf had a few photo albums.
