Page 11 of When Forever Comes

Olivia glances away. “Parties aren’t really my scene.”

“Really?” I’m unable to hide my surprise.

She faces me. Her dark gold eyes pierce through my defenses. Olivia doesn’t seem to be put off by my short answers. Unlike most kids our age, she doesn’t fill up the silence with meaningless small talk. We’re similar in that way. Already it feels like she can see through my awkwardly quiet exterior to who I am underneath. That’s a crazy thought, but it’s the only thing that explains why she’s still sitting with me.

“They use any excuse they can to get rowdy. I don’t drink or smoke or really care if our team wins or loses.”

“You don’t care if they win or lose, yet you’re a cheerleader?” I ask skeptically.

She smirks. “I like the stunts.” Before I can comment further, she asks me another question. “Will you be at the game?”

“Yeah, I’m in the band.”

She brightens, and it takes me off guard. Cheerleaders don’t usually get excited about band members. “What do you play?”

“Drums.”

“I see. All of this” — she motions toward me — “makes a lot more sense. Drummers are always the quiet, broody ones.”

I can’t help but smile. “I’m quiet, but I’m not broody.”

She leans forward and her lavender perfume wafts around me, setting me more at ease. “You’re acting pretty broody to me.” She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and sits back.

Olivia Swann is flirting with me, and it gives me a surge of confidence. “If you’re not going to the after-game party, come to my house and watch a movie with me.”

Her eyebrows shoot up and a wide smile stretches across her pouty lips. It looks way more authentic than the smiles she shares with her friends.

The bell rings and I stand, reaching down for her to take my hand. She places her small hand in mine and I pull her up with too much vigor. Stumbling forward, her free hand lands on my chest and she blinks up at me. That pretty pink blush covers her cheeks again, giving me another wave of confidence.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, then takes a step back.

“What do you say? Are you gonna come to my house tonight?” I ask. My voice comes out deeper than normal. It’s full of longing that I hope she doesn’t catch.

We both bend down to pick up our trash. I take hers from her.

She nods. “I’ll bring the pizza.”

I try to argue, but she stops me by putting her hand up and insisting she’ll provide the food. I toss our trash in the garbage can as she types my address into her notes and my number into her contacts. One of the jocks slides out from the side of the building and flicks his cigarette into the garbage.

“I hope you put that out first, Washburn,” Olivia calls to him as he enters the building.

He waves a dismissive hand. Olivia mutters something under her breath.

My phone buzzes.

“That’s me.” Olivia nods toward my phone. “So you have my number too.” She slips her hand in the crook of my elbow as we step through the doors and I puff out my chest, knowing that the prettiest girl in school is on my arm. The jocks stare at us in shock.

Too soon, we reach her locker. She gives my forearm a gentle squeeze and whispers just loud enough for me to hear, “I’ll see you tonight.”

FIVE

OLIVIA

Age 15

Someone took over my body at lunch. That’s the only logical explanation I can come up with. Never in my life have I approached a boy. Sure, West is nerdy, but like a Clark Kent sort of nerdy. When I talk to guys at school, it’s because they’re my friends’ boyfriends or because they approached me first.

But West is this quiet, broody boy that I am drawn to. I’ve caught him staring at me a few times. Most of the time when I meet his gaze, he looks away. Yesterday, he didn’t. When I caught him staring in study hall, he locked me in and I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to.

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