Dark Wild Night

I hurry down the hall toward the ladies’ room, swallowing a sob, but I hear a couple of his quick footsteps and then Oliver’s hand comes around my shoulder. “Fuck. No. Lola, don’t go. I’m an arse.”


I don’t turn to face him as I’m madly wiping my cheeks. It’s mortifying. I hate to cry alone, hate it even more when someone witnesses it, and right now it’s like someone is aiming a hose down my face; I go from dry to sobbing in a blink.

“You’re not an ass. I am,” I say, and from my voice it’s obvious I’m crying. “I am just so afraid of messing things up with the books, and now I’ve messed things up with us.”

He turns me gently and I look up at him, imagine him in my room, peeling away my clothes and my insanity and just making it us again.

“I didn’t kiss her,” he admits. “We had dinner, but in the end I didn’t let anything happen.”

I nod, swallowing back a relieved sob.

“But are you expecting me to not try to move on?” he asks quietly. “You told me I should just wait idly by while you get your life together without me. That’s a horrible thing to ask, Lola.”

I rest a palm on his chest, my words spilling out in a mess. “I don’t think we’re thinking it was the same thing,” I stumble. “I don’t think I meant what you think I meant? Or what I said? I’m so sorry.”

He pulls away from me a little. “I don’t believe this whole break was just . . . a misunderstanding. I was pretty clear on what you were saying.”

“I want to talk about it,” I tell him. I’m trying to organize my thoughts into some sort of order, but the music is loud and I can feel our friends watching us. “Not here, like this. But soon?”

He nods, looking at my mouth. But then he starts to shake his head instead, saying, “I don’t know, Lola. I don’t know. This is just a fucking mess.”

Panic starts to climb into my throat. “I don’t want this to be over, and—”

Oliver cuts me off with a gentle “Shh,” reaching a hand up to tuck my hair behind my ear. He stares at his hand as if it moved there on instinct before he drops it limply to his side.

My heart is a drum, deep in the jungle of my chest, and it bangs and bangs and bangs for him. I know it won’t ever diminish. There isn’t any clock we can rewind, no way we can stop time.

“I miss you,” I tell him.

He smiles toward the floor, blue eyes soft behind his glasses. “I miss you, too, Lola Love.”

The mix of heartbreak and relief spills from me. When he calls me “Lola Love,” I wonder if there’s at least a chance at friendship after all of this, and whether that would be wonderful, or torture. “I thought you were going to tell me you kissed Hard Rock Allison.”

Oliver looks up at me with a wince that is both sweet and sad. “Reckon I wouldn’t do that. I don’t feel that way for her.” He runs a hand over his jaw, blinking away. “I was angry and I wanted to be distracted, but I wouldn’t betray my own feelings like that.” He laughs without humor. “Your love is branded on my brain; yours is still the only kiss I want.”

The weight of my feelings flips something over inside me, and before I’ve even realized it I say: “Do you want to come over tonight?”

Oliver closes his eyes for a beat, trying to smile, but it barely curves his mouth. “I don’t think—”

Oh God. My insides have liquefied in horror. “Shit, never mind. Sorry. Of course you don’t.”

Oliver takes a step back, looking helplessly around before rubbing his face and turning back to me. “Don’t play games with me.” He looks at me, eyes searching. “Please. I can see in your eyes you’re still sort of a mess. I can see you don’t really like what you’ve done, either. It just . . . days later, it feels too late to come to me in this blur of feelings and panic, and I can’t help but feel like it’s related to you hearing about Allison.”