Love & Lies: Marisol's Story by Wittlinger Ellen

Author:Wittlinger, Ellen [Wittlinger, Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2012-06-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

THE MARGARITAS WERE BEGINNING to wear off by midnight, when Olivia brought me a tall glass of water.

“Drink this, baby. So you don’t feel hung over tomorrow.” I sat up in her bed and watched as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt—even in those she looked fantastic. Why did there have to be a tomorrow? It certainly couldn’t be an improvement on tonight, in which I was Olivia’s “baby.”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Where are we going, you mean. I’m taking you home.”

“Why?”

“Because I like to wake up in the morning by myself,” she said, as she slipped into her shoes. “Drink that now, and get dressed.”

I guess my feelings must have been splashed all over my face. Olivia looked up and laughed, gently. “Oh, Marisol, don’t be hurt. It’s just the way I am. Besides, we can’t arrive together at the class in the morning. If the other students got wind of this, they would think I favor you. Which I obviously do.” She came to the bedside and leaned over to kiss me again, except this time the kiss felt a little bit hurried and purposeful.

I drank the water and climbed out of bed to search for my scattered clothing.

“I’ll check my e-mail while you dress, but hurry, please, sweetheart,” she said. “I need to get some sleep tonight.”

Sweetheart. Baby. That was me. I pretended to be drowsy on the ride back to my apartment so I wouldn’t have to say much. This had been the most amazing day and night of my life—my whole body was still quivery and vulnerable with emotion. I would have been ecstatic if only that grain or two of salt hadn’t found its way into my open wound of a heart. After the way Olivia had stroked and petted and loved me, how could she want me out of the way so she could go to sleep and wake up by herself? I wanted nothing more than to wake up next to her!

It occurred to me that I was probably not the first student who’d been in love with Olivia Frost. Of course we were all awed by her. Maybe she bought amber pendants by the truckload. And how in the hell were you supposed to know what the other person felt at a time like this? It was hard enough to decipher your own feelings!

But when the car pulled up at my building, Olivia pulled me close, and I could feel her heart beating as quickly as mine. She kissed me again, nipping softly at my lips, then pulled away. “Until tomorrow, love.”

I staggered up the stairway and put myself to bed once again. She’d called me love. Love, love, love. What did that mean? There was no chance in hell I was going to sleep a wink.

Which is why Google was invented, right? For insomniac stalkers who need more information immediately. I typed in “Olivia Frost,” and there they were: 589 entries. None of them, or so it seemed, my Olivia Frost.

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