Separate Like Stars Page 5

  “I know,” I whisper my reply, waiting for Olivia to release me, but she doesn’t. Instead, I fall asleep that way, comfortably resting in her arms.

  Chapter 6

  I wake up Monday morning and discover that life has plans for me that don’t include going back to school and having that chat with Olivia. I realize something is wrong when I’m suddenly experiencing a great deal of pain again. I wander down the hallway to the bathroom and wince when I see my reflection. My lower jaw is three times bigger on the right than the left. I quickly head downstairs and find my mom having a bite to eat and some coffee.

  “Good morning sweetie, want some—.” I watch her eyes snap back to focus on my face after her initial cursory glance. “Get dressed. We need to get you to the ER,” her tone brokers no argument, not that I planned on it anyway. I quickly make my way back upstairs, change, and write a note to leave on the door for Olivia, letting her know I won’t be going to school today.

  Four hours later we are pulling back into the driveway. Apparently one of my stitches didn’t hold, and now my jaw is infected. All I know is that it’s more painful than the initial surgery was. I’ll be off school tomorrow as well as starting a course of heavy duty antibiotics. I’ve also been instructed to resume taking the pain medication that I couldn’t tolerate taking in the first place. More medication in my system, I head upstairs to work on the homework Olivia brought home for me last week, but end up falling asleep.

  *****

  “Hey you,” I startle a heavily concentrating Olivia when I come to later that afternoon. She smiles as she sets aside what I assume is her homework before moving to sit beside me on my bed.

  “You’re burning up,” she whispers when her fingertips brush along my forehead as she pushes my hair out of my face. “I was worried about you today.”

  “I’m sorry. My jaw is infected,” I fill her in. “Apparently these things can happen,” I tell her, my voice dripping with irritation.

  “I know. Your mom filled me in,” she shares. “It looks painful. Are you okay?”

  “I will be. More pain pills, antibiotics, and no school for me tomorrow. Are you doing homework?” I ask, feeling like I’m going to fall incredibly far behind even though Olivia has been relaying assignments to me.

  “Yeah, but it can wait. Your mom called and asked my mom if it would be ok if I stayed tonight to keep an eye on you.”

  “I’ll be all right,” I inform her. It just dawned on me how I looked this morning. I really wish Olivia hadn’t seen me like this.

  “I know, but now my mom is worried too, so you’ll be staying at our house tonight and I’ll drop you off on my way to school tomorrow. I’m going to try to get mom to let me skip, but I don’t think she will.”

  “One of us should go to school,” I tell her, wishing I could spend the day with her.

  “Yeah, yeah. Pack a bag. Mom said we have to do homework,” Olivia informs me with an eye roll.

  “Did you finish yours already?”

  “Pretty much,” she says with a shrug.

  “Finish it while I pack. I’ll do mine during the day tomorrow. It’s not like I’ll have anything else to do.” Olivia smiles at me before rising from the bed to resume working on her homework as I pack a bag, being sure to include my latest notebook with the story I’ve been working on.

  “More work to show my mom?” Olivia asks as I zip up my bag.

  “Yeah. Do you mind?”

  “Just curious.” Without answering I pull the tote from under my bed and grab a notebook containing one of my finished stories. I pass it to Olivia who looks at the notebook I’m extending to her and then up at me. “Really?”

  “Yeah, just don’t read it when I’m with you and please don’t let anyone else know or see it.”

  *****

  “This is good, Jordan. The theme is a little different from your other work, but it’s a great start,” Mrs. O’Connor praises me.

  “Thanks,” I tell her, fighting a mild blush. I’ve always felt a sense of embarrassment when she praises my work, even now. Maybe it’s because the writing always feels so intensely personal, even though it’s entirely fiction.

  “Are you sure you don’t want an ice pack or something?” she asks as she eyes my jaw. “That looks pretty painful.”

  “It is, but I’m okay. Thanks,” I answer as I hear the sounds of a piano starting to play from the other room. My ears immediately perk up at the sounds of Tori Amos’ Little Earthquakes.

  “Olivia never told you she plays?”

  “No,” I manage as I fall into a hypnotic state as I listen.

  “The two of you…,” Mrs. O’Connor starts, breaking the trance I’m falling into. “I mean, I don’t even know if you identify as being gay, but are you and Olivia…”

  “We’re not,” I tell her, saving her from finding a way to finish her question.

  “Why do I sense a but at the end of that?” she asks.

  “I like her,” I admit as Olivia keeps playing in the other room. “I’ve only admitted that to you, my mom, and Olivia. Olivia said we’d talk about it when I feel better.”

  “When did you tell her?”

  “Last Thursday while I was all doped up after my surgery. Not the best timing, I know,” I sarcastically chuckle, earning a smile from Mrs. O’Connor. “I feel things with her that I’ve never felt before,” I say as an added explanation.

  “Are you okay with those feelings?” she asks, her voice filled with concern.

  “I am,” I confirm with a nod of my head. “It was never a big deal in our house. My mom’s best friend is gay.”

  “That’s good. I’m here if you ever need anything,” she assures me before giving me a hug.

  “I know,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

  “Of course. At least now I know what’s been on Olivia’s mind the last couple of days.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset her,” I say as I feel disappointment roil through me. It was never my intent to spring my feelings on Olivia the way that I did. But the medications lowered my inhibitions and it just sort of spilled out. I thought with her reaction that maybe she was feeling the same way, but it seems that I was mistaken.

  “I never said she’s been upset, only that something has been on her mind. You’ll have to talk to her,” she informs me with a pat on the shoulder. “You should get some rest. You’re still awfully warm. Did you take your meds?”

  “Yes, mom,” I answer sarcastically.

  “Well, mom is better than Mrs. O’Connor,” she responds with a laugh. “Take it easy and get some rest tonight. If you need anything, don’t be afraid to wake us.” I nod as she leaves me to follow the sound of the piano. I locate Olivia in the sitting room, her back to the entrance as she continues playing. I stealthily lay down on one of the couches, close my eyes, and listen to her play as she finishes Hallelujah and starts Life on Mars. I smile as I remember the first time we met, how she complimented my Tori Amos shirt while she wore her David Bowie tee.

  “Are you asleep?” she whispers when she finishes the Bowie tune. I turn my head and open my eyes to look at her, trying my best to smile.

  “Just enjoying your playing,” I answer as I remember Mrs. O’Connor sharing that Olivia has had something on her mind. I want to bring it up, but Olivia said we would talk about it when I’m feeling better. I can only assume she means when my mind is clear of the pain medicine, which it most certainly is not at the moment.

  “I’m not that good,” she says, uncharacteristically lacking confidence.

  “It sounded like you’re pretty good to me. I didn’t even know that you played.”

  “I have since I was a kid. I wanted to learn, so my parents bought the piano. My mom and I both took lessons,” she says and shrugs. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore, but fine. Did you finish your homework?”

  “Yes, mother,” she sarcastically retorts, causing me to laugh hysterically. “Okay, your meds must be working really well because that
was not that funny.”

  “No, it’s just that I said the same thing to your mom earlier.” I watch as Olivia tilts her head as she tries to assess something.

  “I thought you were discussing your latest story.”

  “We did, but we talked about other stuff too. She asked if I had taken my medicine and I gave her the same sarcastic response.”

  “I see. What else did you talk about?” Olivia’s tone and look make it clear she isn’t going to let this go.

  “We talked about the story, how I’m feeling and…,” I hesitate, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it, “what I said to you a few days ago.”

  “Oh,” is her quiet response. That’s all she has to say about it? All the discussion we’re going to have? Well, at least I have her answer. I fight to keep my face neutral as I feel another new sensation, one that must lay somewhere near heartbreak. “Where are you going?” she asks when I rise from the couch.

  “It’s time for me to rinse again,” I answer as I head upstairs to the bathroom. At least I can have a few minutes to myself in there to deal with the initial sting of Olivia’s rejection. I take at least three times longer than I need to brush and rinse, quickly dismissing Olivia when she checks on me. I should go home, I think as I exit the bathroom. The soft light spilling from Olivia’s bedroom alerting me to the fact that she has relocated us upstairs.

  “Buffy is about to start,” Olivia informs me as soon I enter the room. She’s lounging against the head of her bed like nothing is different. Like she didn’t just reject me. I think about going home, but my mom called Mrs. O’Connor to see if Olivia could stay, and Mrs. O’Connor insisted that I stay with them tonight. Mom will kill me if she finds out I stayed at home alone and I can’t imagine Mrs. O’Connor would be much happier. Resigned to my fate, I take a seat on the floor so I can pretend to focus on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. “Why are you sitting on the floor?” Olivia asks as the credits roll on the previous program. I respond with a shrug. “Is something wrong?” she asks, concern filling in her voice.

  “No,” I answer, hiding my frustration. I climb up on the bed and position myself flush against the wall, the cool surface a welcome relief against my feverish body. I’m even able to rest the side of my face against it, offering some relief to my now throbbing jaw that I know I’ve been clenching. “I have a fever,” I share when I catch Olivia giving me a strange look as the show starts. “The wall is cold. It feels good,” I petulantly answer her unspoken question. She assesses the vacant space on the bed between us, much further than we normally sit apart, but says nothing.

  “I’ll be right back,” she informs me when the opening credits and inevitable commercial break begin. She returns after the show resumes with a glass of water and an ice pack. She grabs my pain medication from my bag and returns to the bed, silently handing me a pill and the water. I take the offered pill and drink half the water before handing the glass back to her. She trades me for the ice pack, something that I’m extremely grateful for. It doesn’t escape my notice that she sits much closer to me when she reestablishes herself on the bed. “Is the ice helping?” she asks when the next commercial break begins.

  “It is. Thanks for getting it for me,” I answer. I can feel the nearness of her body and see the half an inch that separates my foot from her ankle, my hand from hers. “I know you don’t like the pain medicine, but it can’t be worse than suffering through the pain,” she says as she looks at me. “Clenching your jaw can’t be helping either.”

  “It’s not,” I answer as I push out a deep breath.

  “Are you frustrated about earlier?” she asks as she continues to look at me. I turn and quickly glance at her before turning back to the TV.

  “It’s okay,” I quietly answer. It has to be, or I risk losing Olivia as a friend.

  “Okay,” she answers as she slides her arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to her. What the hell is happening? I wonder as the show comes back on.

  Chapter 7

  The remainder of the week is a blur of me trying to rest, heal, and catch up. Olivia drops my homework off Tuesday after school before heading into work. I try to go with her, but mom forbids it, suggesting being at the shop will only distract me from getting my assignments done. She’s probably right, but it doesn’t mean that her verdict doesn’t irritate me. I feel mildly disappointed when Olivia doesn’t make an appearance after work, but what can I expect? On Wednesday she picks me up as usual and assists me with finishing my catch up work. On Thursday we work on a project together for our Chemistry class. On Friday I want to go to the shop with Olivia for her shift, but my mom has alternative plans, promising to take me into the city for dinner and some shopping now that I’m finally feeling better. On Saturday evening Olivia has dinner at our house before we head over to Erica’s for a bonfire.

  “So you’re finally feeling better?” Olivia asks as we back out of the driveway.

  “Finally. It’s nice being able to enjoy a real meal too. You know, something that I actually have to chew.”

  “That’s good. Can’t have a bonfire without s’mores,” she says with a grin.

  “If you say so. But you know I’m not a big fan of marshmallows,” I remind her.

  “True, but you have to try one at least. I’ll make it for you,” she offers the bribe.

  “I’ll try one,” I concede, knowing it’s easier not to argue with her.

  We arrive at the gathering and Olivia unleashes a loud squeal as we approach the fire. She bolts from my side and immediately pulls someone I’ve never met into her arms.

  “Glad you could make it,” Erica greets me from Mark’s lap. I divert my eyes from Olivia and the stranger long enough to acknowledge the greeting.

  “That’s Katie,” Mark informs me as I watch Olivia with her huge smile and her arm slung around Katie’s shoulders. I immediately feel a flood a jealousy surge through me as the pair approaches.

  “Jordan this is Katie, Katie meet Jordan,” Olivia introduces us.

  “Ah, my replacement. Nice to finally meet you,” Katie says as her eyes quickly scan me. “Olivia has told me all about you.” Her replacement? What the hell? Sure I happen to occupy her old house, and we seem to have a similar group of friends, but outside of that, what have I done to earn that comment? Olivia clearly isn’t interested in dating me the way that she was Katie.

  “There’s no replacing you,” I manage, but can’t entirely hide the venom in my voice. Thankfully Olivia is the only one who notices, resulting a reproachful look from her. “Anyway, I’m going to find something to drink,” I say as a means of excusing myself.

  I spend the next two hours trying to immerse myself in conversation, while not openly fixating on Olivia and Katie. Olivia has completely forgotten about me in favor of Katie, refusing to leave the conventionally attractive blonde’s side, animatedly chatting away with her.

  “We’re out of chocolate,” David informs Erica just after midnight. “I’m going to drive into town to get more,” he adds, as Katie brushes one of Olivia’s wavy strands out of her face. Olivia smiles in response and keeps chatting away.

  “Hey David, would you mind giving me a ride home? I’m not feeling very well.” A few sets of sympathetic eyes turn to look at me in response. “Must be too much too soon,” I make the excuse, hoping he’ll take pity on me.

  “No problem,” he answers. “Want to say goodbye?”

  “No need, I’m ready when you are,” I say, more than ready to not be subjected to watching Olivia and Katie together anymore.

  “After you,” he says with a flourish of his hand.

  *****

  An hour later I hear the sound of the front door opening and then closing, before the familiar patter of Olivia’s footsteps climbing the stairs. I continue reading Rubyfruit Jungle as Olivia passes through my doorway and sits on the foot of my bed.

  “You left without saying anything,” she states as she pulls off her sweatshirt.

  “You noticed,” I ter
sely reply.

  “Why are you upset?” she inquires, as she perches on my bed and crosses her legs under themselves.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I utter, continuing to read.

  “It does if I’m asking,” she answers. “Will you please put down the book and talk to me?”

  “You should go back to the bonfire,” I manage before she pries the book from my hands.

  “David told me you weren’t feeling well and that you asked for a ride home. Clearly, that wasn’t the case, so what’s the problem?” The combination of having my book torn from my grasp, being accused of having a problem, and my current foul mood set me off.