Olive by Emma Gannon
Author:Emma Gannon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Andrews McMeel Publishing
Published: 2021-01-22T18:26:06+00:00
20
The next day, I wake up with an excruciating headache. When was the last time any water touched my lips? My tongue is furry, my throat is sore, and my stomach is rumbling, even though the thought of food is making me want to vom. I am only able to open one eye as the light seeping from the blinds in my bedroom is so bright, adding to the throbbing pain in my temples. I pick up my phone from the floor: 10:03 a.m. There is a wineglass next to my bed; I faintly remember getting a bottle of wine from the fridge and finishing that in bed. Oh dear, oh dear. I see thereâs a notification in the group WhatsApp chat, making my stomach lurch. I go and make myself a cup of tea before crawling back into bed to face up to the damage I did last night.
12:30 a.m.
Bea: Ol, did you get home OK? Pls let us know.
12:34 a.m.
Bea: Hello? text us when youâre home.
08:02 a.m.
Bea: OL?
10:30 a.m.
Me: Sorrrrrry just seen this. Iâm alive. Just woke up. Feels like a diseased pigeon has died in my mouth
Isla: What happened last night after I left? You OK?
Me: Sorry to anyone I offended. I donât remember the last hour or so of the night
Isla: I missed the ending. Sorry again for leaving early Cec. Such a great night :)
Me: What did I do?
Bea: We were just worried about you
Me: Thatâs a first
Bea: Huh??
Cecily is typing
Cecily is typing
Isla: Itâs OK, Olive
Bea: Ol. Please donât alienate yourself from us
Cecily is typing
Cecily is typing
Cecily is typing
There is a long pause.
Cecily is typing
Cecily: Iâm so disappointed in the way you were yesterday, Olive. Iâm already feeling vulnerable, at home all day, missing my career and old life and I just wanted a day to celebrate my new baby, as itâs not been easy. At all. And somehow, somehow you managed to make it about YOU. As usual. WHEN WILL YOU REALIZE THAT NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU!!!
Monday. And Iâm feeling the full effects of a two-day hangover; Iâm exposed and vulnerable. I look in the mirror in the .dot toilets and canât see the strong Olive I thought Iâd built up. I donât think Cec has ever been this angry at me. Not even that time when I accidentally lost her entire handbag on a night out. I feel terrible. I am a shell, and I know exactly what I am about to do.
I look under the toilet stalls to check for earwigging employees and press my phone to my ear. It starts to ring. The knots in my stomach feel tighter and tighter, and I feel as if I might be sick. He picks up straight away.
âHello?â
âHi,â I croak, and then cough. âJacob, itâs Olive.â
âOh . . . hi!â he says, a mixture of surprise and confusion. âEverything . . . um . . . okay?â
âI know we havenât spoken in ages. I wanted to pick up on our last conversation.â
âOkay . .
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