When my doorbell rings, I think it’s Lucas coming back to apologize, but it’s Olivia. Her eyes are red and she’s not wearing any makeup.
I open the door, poking my head out. “What do you want?” My tone could be more welcoming, but it has been a hard day.
She glances down and then back at me. “I just want to let you know that nothing happened between Lucas and me.” She tilts her head. “Can I come in? I’ll be quick I promise.”
I let her inside my apartment. She’s got circles under her eyes. And she shifts from one foot to another, she’s far from the confident Olivia I’ve seen before. I’m not sure which one is the real one or if like the rest of us, she’s made of many layers and is still learning who she is. “Your apartment looks nice.” She glances around and then winces as if she’s not happy with what she said. “Okay, the walls are kind of bare and it’s a bit sad but…nice.”
I’m tempted to chuckle at this entire situation. Because if I don’t laugh, I might cry. What are we doing? Are we about to braid each other’s hair and talk about our feelings? I don’t think so. I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever they may have going on, but at some point, she should also leave me alone. My eyes must still be red from the crying. “Listen, I appreciate you coming here. Even though I wonder why because if I’m honest with you, I think you want Lucas back and I think you don’t like me very much. It’s a feeling I have.”
She purses her lips and nods as if she’s thinking and then she tilts her head. The sympathy look is gone from her face, it’s more restrained. “I want what’s best for him.” She pauses and steps towards my couch. Her hand touch the picture Mia drew for me. “And I still want you to know that nothing happened between me and him yesterday.” She shrugs and plops on my couch and I’m not sure what to do. Ask her to leave? Offer her coffee or water? “It’s not easy, that’s all.”
My phone rings and I glance at it—half hoping that it’s Lucas calling to apologize, but it’s my parents. When I don’t pick up, they call again. And seeing it’s super late in the night in the city, my throat tightens. What if something happened?
“You can take that if you want. I’ll wait.”
I’d love to ask her to leave but we’re in that music video together. And clearly she’s trying to do what’s best for Lucas. Letting him decide. I pick up the phone. “Hi Mom,” I answer and gesture I’m going in the bathroom.
“How are you doing honey?” She asks, her tone worried.
“I’m fine. I’m okay. Busy but good. Why are you calling at this time?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t sleep. And then I thought with the time difference I could check up on you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m very sure. I’ll figure it out.”
She breathes out as if she was relieved to hear my words and after chatting for a few more minutes, I promise to call her back tomorrow and we hang up.
Olivia’s still sitting on my couch and she stands up when she sees me. “I really wanted to let you know that nothing happened.”
“Why?” I can’t help but ask because even if she wants Lucas to make the decision of his own, she still wants him back. Us being mad at each other is actually a good way for her to get what she wants.
“Because he was hurting and I hate seeing him hurt.” She glances away and I’m not sure I believe her—maybe it’s in the way she said the word ‘hurting’ like she didn’t care if he did hurt or not, but I let it slide. This situation is already as awkward as it can get and me being jealous—because that burning sensation in my chest feels a lot like jealousy—isn’t helping.
“Listen, thank you for coming, but I have to get going.”
She stands up and her hair floats around her face. Her cherry lips curve into a smile, but it’s not a warm smile, it’s more a “I’ve done what I was supposed to do” smile, as if telling me that nothing happened was one more way to prove to Lucas she’s changed. And it seems she has and I need to stop thinking about all of this, because the sharp pain in my heart hasn’t subsided ever since he slammed the door on our possible real beginning last night.
“I’ll see you after our trip,” she says with a voice so full of honey that I’m going to get sick from too much sugar just listening to her.
“Bye,” I tell her and close the door behind her. I lean against it for a second, my eyes trained to the ceiling. Rehearsals begin in an hour. I need to get moving and I need to get Lucas out of my mind.
At least for now.
***
The rest of the week is grueling. The rehearsals get harder each time and I don’t understand how Igor still has his voice after yelling at us for so many hours.
“Steve is doing good. Super busy but good. Lucas, on the other hand, is apparently angry at the world, angry at himself and super sad.” Alisha links her arm with mine as we walk outside the studio and into the courtyard for a short break.
“He hasn’t called,” I reply and even though I try to sound like I don’t care, my voice still sounds sad.
“Steve said he and Dimitri want to talk to him. Maybe that will help.”
I open my mouth. Then close it. I want to know what’s going on with Olivia. He told me it was over, but after her visit to my apartment, I know she’s definitely not over him and I’m not sure how I feel about all of this.
Alisha pushes some of the gravel with her foot and then bumps her hip into mine in a sign of understanding. “Steve said Lucas is very professional with Olivia but that nothing is going on. Olivia seems to also not be pushing for anything right now.”
Breathing in and out is easier after hearing her words. “I saw my therapist the other day.” My new doctor is helping. I was hesitant at first, confiding in someone new, but talking to him has helped alleviate some of my anxieties.
“You told me.”
“He asked me to recap some of what happened and then asked me about the particular moment Lucas and I fought.”
Alisha pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. “This is the last one.” I raise one eyebrow at her and she continues. “And what did you figure out?”
“That he was really on edge that night, that it hasn’t been easy for any of us. I’m basically less angry. I still want an explanation but I’m less angry.”
Alisha nudges me. “You both need to be willing to fight for each other. It can’t be a one-way street.”
I repeat her words. She’s right. I know she’s right. And maybe when Lucas is back, we can sit down and see where we’re at.
I also realized that what happened to me in Cape Cod is my story to tell, if I want to tell it and right now I want to share it with Alisha. Because in the past weeks and months, she’s becoming a real friend.
I give her the short version since we can’t be late for the second part of our rehearsal. When I’m done, I lean back on my heels, waiting for a reaction, any reaction. Worried that she might look at me differently but also more at ease with the fact that this story is part of me, part of who I am, but doesn’t define me.
She blinks rapidly as if she’s trying not to cry, throws her cigarette in the ashtray and pulls me into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” she says with tears in her voice. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” She pauses and leans back with a small smile. “And it’s not pity, okay? It’s me being your friend and feeling bad you went through such a tough time.”
I nod and smile back.
“One minute!” We can overhear Igor yelling from the rehearsing room. He opened one of the small windows and pokes his head out. “You two, come back inside. Now!”
“Yes, sir.” We both reply at the same time, and we stroll back inside, I feel more confident.