My new cell phone is delivered early evening and after catching up with my parents and Emilia, I text Lucas and wait for his call. I re-watch old episodes of Parks & Rec, chuckling every few minutes. But soon enough my eyes can’t stay open. And I crash. My dreams are a mix of the past and the future. Mia smiles as she meets Lucas, but then Lucas runs off, telling me we will never work. He runs into Olivia’s arms.
And there’s a loud buzz. I swat the bee that’s trying to sting me but it keeps on darting back. I turn around and fumble to find my phone. Morning came way too fast. But it’s not my phone either. And it’s only nine in the evening.
I grab a sweater and tiptoe outside of bed, relishing the hardwood floor under my feet because it means I was indeed dreaming.
I press the intercom. “Who is this?”
“It’s me.” Lucas’ voice does things to my insides, but then worry takes over.
“Is everything okay? Is Grand-mère Julie okay?”
“She is. She’s great actually. We got some shitty news about pictures of Benji being leaked but that’s not why I’m here. I just wanted to see you before leaving tomorrow.”
“Come on up.” I buzz him in and there’s no nervousness in my chest, just a happy feeling I could get used to. Quickly.
A few seconds later, I let him my apartment. It’s weird how he already looks like he belongs, like it’s perfectly normal for him to come over. Maybe because I feel like we’re friends…even with this intense chemistry between us, we’re friends.
I wrap my arms around him and he hugs me back tightly. His breath tickles my neck and I cuddle closer. His body against mine is strong and I melt against him. I entirely melt against him: my body, my mind, my heart.
He steps back first and softly kisses my lips.
My mouth forms an “o.” “I thought we needed to obey the rules.”
“Screw the rules. Shit, life is too short.”
“I usually obey the rules…” I blabber. The only time I didn’t follow them, I almost died of an overdose. But then he kisses me again and I forget everything.
His energy is all over the place, like I’m helping him forget the pain. His hands are in my hair, his mouth is on my neck. His lips trail down my shoulder and I moan loudly.
I pull him with me and we end up on the couch. His fingers trace an imaginary design on my stomach while mine struggle with his jeans. Instead, I pull on his shirt and he takes it off. My hands explore every inch of him. I never want to stop.
“Shit, my fucking phone.” His lips touch mine again softly. I’m breathing hard and so is he. “It could be the hospital, I have to get it.” He shakes his head, annoyed. “Stupid Grégoire.” His phone beeps with a text and then rings again.
Lucas rubs the back of his head in his signature I’m annoyed move. “What do you want?”
He listens intently. “You’re fucking kidding me. Of course, it’s not her.” He nods and glances my way. “Uh-huh. How is Olivia doing? Okay, uh-huh.”
And then he hangs up. He stays on his phone for a few more seconds, his face blanching.
“Can I ask you something?”
Okay. This is not how I expected the evening to continue. “Of course. What’s going on?”
“So if we did wait to get together, when would we be able to?”
“What?” I raise both eyebrows as high as I kick my leg in an arabesque
“I’m gone for the week, then we film the rest of the video within three days and then we’re done, right?”
“There’s that show at my ballet company.” And then I want to take the words back, because he stares at me in such a way that I feel like he’s questioning everything, like he’s questioning me.
“What if I didn’t do it?”
“Why?” I’m tempted to say it’s okay, that I understand, but I don’t. Before I might have let it go, I might have smiled and pretended I’m fine. That’s what I would have done with Nick, but I feel more myself around Lucas than anyone else, and I don’t want to lose that because I’m afraid to lose him. “Why wouldn’t you do it?”
“Is that what you want?” he asks and his voice is bitter and I don’t understand it.
And this throws me off. I thought we were getting closer. “I don’t know—you tell me.” My tone is harsh but that’s either that or I let my voice break. “You have to explain because I’m lost.”
“Here.” He hands me his phone.
And I read the headline of the new trashy website that gathers millions of views every single day. Olivia McRae’s brother died because of their mother’s negligence.
“What?” My eyes widen and I’m still lost. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last something shitty is written about him, about them.
“The only people who know some of the details inside that article are you, Olivia, Benji and me. And Benji is dead, so you do the math.”
“I didn’t say anything to anyone.” I flinch. His words sting more than the bee from my nightmare. “I wouldn’t blabber. It must have been Olivia. She’s done it before, right?”
“She would never say anything about her brother, just like I hope you would never say anything to the press about your sister.”
That’s a slap in the face. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot say about Mia. Don’t you dare bring Mia into this.”
He rubs the back of his head and walks to the other side of the room; he’s pacing. “I don’t want to believe you had any hand in that article.”
“Then don’t believe it, because I didn’t. Can you tell me why would I do that? I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t even understand the appeal of being in those magazines. Maybe it’s Grégoire.”
“Maybe it’s all about that show, your company.” His voice is sad and unsure and I want to shake him, because what the heck? I wrap my hair up in a knot, not caring he knows that’s what I do when I’m stressed. How did he go from almost making love to me to being mad at me? For something I didn’t even do.
I stand up, step toward him. “This show could save the company. It could save the jobs of my friends. Of course I want you to do this show. I don’t understand why you’re so pissed.” Anger now rises within me. I clench my fists before showing him the door. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but the simple fact you think I could do that is beyond me.”
He shifts on his feet. “It’s not just that. Grégoire said Igor was not the one who leaked the news about you getting the role.”
“And you think I did that too? You think I want my private life on display?” I seethe. “I would tell you I don’t care about the show, but it would be a lie. It’s not only me who’s on the line with you joining our last dance. It’s the entire company.” I throw my arms in the air when he still doesn’t answer and point to the door. “You have to go. You have to think about everything you just told me, and then you have to think if you’ve really moved on.”
“Moved on?”
“Even if you’re over Olivia—which I’m still not sure you are. You’re clearly not over the fact she used you. I’m not Olivia the Second. I won’t be Olivia the Second.” I take a deep breath. “Now, get out. I’ll see you next week for the filming by the Eiffel Tower.”
He opens his mouth but I don’t want to hear it.
I close the door behind him. I don’t slam it because my anger is already receding into hurt. I lean against the door and let the tears fall.