The next day was Sunday. Olivia’s bed was already made when I woke up, and I frowned at the perfectly fluffed pillows. We hadn’t talked much when I got back last night, just two terse good nights before she turned off the light and rolled over, and part of me wanted to stay in bed and hide out from her and everyone else for the rest of the day.
It was close to noon, though, and finally I pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, tossing my hair up into a bun. Olivia was eating a banana on the couch in the living room, breaking off tiny pieces and chewing them slowly. On MTV, somebody was hosting a beach party, a bunch of college kids dancing on a pier, and I wondered if it was the one Hurricane State had performed at. “Morning,” I said, heading for the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal.
“There you are!” Olivia smiled.
“Here I am,” I said, surprised by how glad she sounded to see me. Zero talent, I heard at the back of my head, remembering her expression when I’d walked in the door of the apartment last night. Completely screwing up. “Where is everybody?”
“Charla’s running errands,” she said, swallowing. “Kristin and Ash went shopping.”
“You didn’t go with?” I asked, sitting down beside her on the sofa.
Olivia nudged me with one bare foot. “Was waiting for you, actually.”
“You were?” I asked, sounding dumbly pleased and feeling a little embarrassed about it. “You wanna go down to the pool for a bit?”
I wanted to spend some time with her, talk things out, but Olivia shook her head. “I thought we could go into the studio today,” she said. “I know you really weren’t into those vocal exercises we were talking about, but . . .”
I put my cereal bowl down on the coffee table, untouched. “So we’re just not going to talk about last night, then?”
To her credit, Olivia didn’t try to act like she didn’t know what I meant. “Look,” she said, “I don’t know what you thought we were talking about when you came in, but—”
“I rehearsed all day yesterday, actually,” I informed her, “which you’d know if you’d talked to me at all instead of just bitching about how bad I am with Ashley and Kristin.”
“I wasn’t bitching about you,” Olivia said hotly.
“I heard you guys!” I said. “Do you know how shitty that felt?”
Olivia sagged at that, dropping her banana peel on the table and running her hands through her hair. “I’m sorry,” she said when she looked at me again. “You’re right. You’re right, it was shitty, and that’s why I want to help you now. It’s just that Kristin and Ashley are worried—”
“Kristin and Ashley are a couple of nasty little wannabe pop stars,” I snapped.
Olivia scowled. “If you made any effort to get to know them—”
“They don’t want to get to know me,” I argued. “I get that they’re your new best friends and all, but—”
“Hey,” Olivia said, catching me by the arm and tugging me to face her. “That’s not what I’m saying. Stop it, okay? You’re my best friend. Nothing that goes on here is going to change that.”
Just like that, I wanted to burst into tears, all the fight going out of me at once. God, I hated arguing with her. “You told me to come here,” I pointed out, trying to keep my voice even. I’d been thinking it more and more lately, remembering how my first and deepest instinct had been to step aside and hers had been not to let me. I need you, she’d told me, and I’d believed her. “I was going to stay home, remember? I was going to stay in Jessell. I only came here because of you.”
Olivia looked at me for a moment, and I thought I saw the faintest tinge of what might have been regret flicker across her face. “I know I did,” she said finally. “I know.”
“Look,” I said, “I’m sorry, okay? Let’s go to the studio. We can get coffee on the way or something, you can teach me whatever you want me to learn, I’ll learn it. It’ll be fun.”
But Olivia shook her head. “No,” she said. “You’re right; it’s Sunday.” She sighed. “But let’s try and be on the same team from now on, okay?”
I nodded. I wanted that so, so much. “Of course we’re on the same team,” I promised. “Always.”
I went down to the pool anyway, though all the fun was sort of bleached out of the idea at this point. I just wanted to be by myself. It wasn’t until I was halfway to the gate that I realized all five members of Hurricane State were already in the water, playing keep-away with an inflatable beach ball.
“Danaaaaa,” Mikey called when he saw me, drawing my name out like a catcall. His skinny white chest gleamed in the sun. “Come on in!”
That was the last thing I wanted to do, actually, but now there was no way for me to do an about-face and leave again without looking like a total weirdo. God, I should have just stayed upstairs. “I’m good, thanks,” I called back, but Alex had already turned in the pool and seen me, his face spreading into a wide, slow grin. He left the game and swam over to the side of the pool, crossing his long, tan arms on the edge.
“Hi,” he said, casual as anything, this look on his face like he had a secret only I would ever be able to figure out. “How’s your weekend been?”
“Oh, you know,” I said, feeling my lips twist in spite of myself. “Can’t complain.”
“Any fireworks?” he asked seriously, and I rolled my eyes.
“Some.”
“Alex!” Trevor hollered from the other side of the pool. “You playing, or what?”
“Be right there!” Alex called back.
“I’m gonna go back upstairs,” I told him, glancing at the others uneasily.
“Why?” Alex asked. “You just got here.”
“I know, but—” I broke off. I didn’t know how to explain, exactly. It didn’t feel right to be down here with them when Olivia was upstairs in the apartment—when maybe I should be rehearsing, should be doing what I’d allegedly come here to do. Maybe Olivia was right: she’d just been trying to help me. And here I was—again—with the guy she liked. The guy I’d kissed more than once now, who I wanted to keep kissing.
“I’ll see you later,” I mumbled, turning abruptly and heading for the gate. I had just made it around the corner to the side of the building where the vending machines were, when I heard Alex’s bare footsteps behind me. “Hey,” he said, a little breathlessly, catching me by the arm so I’d turn around. His hair was wet with pool water; he smelled like Coppertone and chlorine. He also wasn’t wearing a shirt, and it was impossible for me to act like I didn’t notice. I wanted to press my palm against his heart. “Talk to me. What’s up?”
“Somebody’s going to see us,” I said, pulling my arm away.