She’d felt so alone since he’d left for school. She was busy enough with her classes at Belmont. She was in her second year of Architecture and Design and loved everything about the program, even the extra work created by double-majoring in both fields. She dated, had a couple of boyfriends, but nothing serious, nothing that felt like the love she had for him, definitely nothing like the dark love she felt for his brother, desire mixed with shame and horror. She couldn’t imagine ever being in the same room as Perry ever again, not after what she’d done. He would never forgive her, so he must never know. Simple as that.
She found a parking space on South Street and locked the car carefully. She didn’t want anything to happen to her things, but she also wanted to take a walk around the campus first. All part of her newly embraced independence. She was satisfied with the path her life was on. She just missed Park. She needed him back in the mix, and things would be perfect again, like they were before prom.
She had a three-day weekend, so she figured she’d drive to Chapel Hill and surprise him. No strings, no expectations. Just to see if he still cared. Just to see if he still wanted her.
It was a stupid thing to do, but she was a kid still, ripe and lush and sure enough of her own sexuality that she could lure him back even if he’d found someone else. He wouldn’t have, though. Not Park. He was hers, and she was his, and that’s just how things were going to be. They’d been planning it since they were kids, and yes, they’d hit a little speed bump, but she was going to make it right, and then they’d get back on the planned path. Together. Going forward, it would be them together. Chapel Hill had a fabulous A&D program. She could transfer all of her credits. She’d already checked.
Park would be thrilled. She knew he would be. She knew him, inside and out.
She wandered across the quad, taking in the huge sundial, the ancient trees with their long arms spread protectively over the redbrick buildings. Everyone was so happy. Smiling, healthy, beautiful people. She felt at home immediately. She felt safe.
She walked around campus for an hour, admiring, then made her way back to the car and drove to Park’s address.
She grabbed the bag of chocolate chip cookies she’d made fresh last night from the cooler, leaving the rest of her things in the car. She wanted to greet him with her best smile and a sweet treat, and they could deal with the rest later.
She wound her way up the stairwell and stopped in front of his door. She raised her hand to knock but hesitated when loud voices rang through the thin wood. Park’s voice, raised in anger. And a girl, fighting back. Olivia leaned closer to the door, practically put her ear against it. Thankfully no one else was in the corridor; she must look totally ridiculous, eavesdropping while holding a pie tin full of cookies covered in foil. A demented Junior Leaguer.
The argument was at fever pitch; they’d clearly been fighting for a while.
“You’re a whore. There’s no chance in hell it’s mine, and you know it.”
“You’re the only one I’ve slept with, and don’t you dare call me a whore. What kind of horrible person are you? I’m in trouble and all you can do is accuse me of sleeping around?”
“You’ve been with at least three people I know of, including my roommate. So just leave, will you?”
“You can’t be serious. That’s not true. I can’t belie—”
The voice was cut off with a scream and a gurgle. There was a huge thump, and then the sound of banging, but soft thuds, like small fists against stronger arms. Or feet hammering the floor.
Olivia tried to imagine what was happening, but she couldn’t. Everything had gone deadly quiet inside the apartment.
Then there were cries, and Park snarled again, “Get out.”
Steps came closer, and Olivia took off running, ducking behind the fire extinguisher, hoping against all hope the girl went the other way.
She didn’t. The girl stormed out of Park’s apartment, crying noisily, a hand to her neck, ran right past Olivia without even noticing she was there.
She heard Park growl “good riddance” and slam the door.
This was not how things were supposed to go. She felt sick.
This girl was pregnant? By Park?
Oh, the irony.
She saw the girl sprint from the stairwell, then draw up by a tree, wiping her eyes and pulling herself together.
Olivia set the cookies on the carpet carefully, then went down the stairs. The girl was still there, arms around her own waist, comforting herself.
As she watched, the girl started toward the edge of the parking lot. There must be a path there that led back to campus.
Olivia followed.
The girl hurried down the path through the arboretum, then kept going, onto the street, down toward a coffee shop. Toward Olivia’s car. Olivia waited until she passed, then jumped behind the wheel. It would be much easier to follow in the car, especially not knowing the area.
Olivia just wanted to talk to her. To find out the truth. If Park was screwing around with her, or if he was telling the truth and the baby wasn’t his.
She was still raw from her own experience. Trying so hard to forget. It was impossible.
Maybe she could reason with this girl. Make her understand that she might regret her actions going forward forever. Maybe she just wanted to let jealousy take the reins and lash out. She didn’t know.
The girl was in good shape, moved quickly. She finally slowed by a small overpass bridge, then took a seat on the stone, feet dangling.
That looked so dangerous. It wasn’t a huge drop, but enough that the girl could hurt herself if she fell.
Olivia pulled the car into the lot nearby and debated. She hated her, if only because she’d been with Park. But Olivia had a newfound compassion for those suffering the burning fires of desire and desertion.
While she debated, the weather turned. The skies grew dark, and fat drops of rain began to fall. The girl turned her tear-stained face to the sky and got to her feet.
Olivia put the window down on the car. “Need a lift back to campus? You’re going to get soaked.”
The girl got into the car.
A confluence of events.
Desire made real. A surprise trip. The timing of her arrival. Another five minutes and she would never have known. Instead, Olivia was stuck in an overheated car parked by a lake, listening to a besotted and wet girl crying about her perfect boyfriend blowing her off.
Crying about how much she loved him.
How much he loved her. All the things he’d told her. How beautiful she was. How perfect. How sweet. How no one had ever made him feel like this before. How she was his first true love. That’s why she slept with him; he was so flattering, so honest and upfront. And now she was pregnant, and he wouldn’t talk to her anymore.
She flipped down the visor, the little mirror reflecting her truth. “He tried to strangle me. I kicked him in the balls, and he let me go. Look at my neck.”
Yes. Look. The bruises were growing darker by the minute.
“I heard your fight.”
“What?”
“I heard him say you slept with his roommate. Is that true?”
“Why do you care?”
“Is it true?”
The girl’s eyes narrowed, and the asp inside reared. “Who are you, anyway? It’s not like he’d give you the time of day. You are so not his type.”