The Night Olivia Fell. Christina McDonald

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The Night Olivia Fell - Christina McDonald

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away from mine. ‘We can’t turn life support off from a pregnant woman. Not in Washington State.’

      ‘Wh –?’ I breathed. My body went limp, boneless, my head spinning.

      ‘Olivia was – is – Olivia’s pregnant.’

       OLIVIA

      april, 6 months earlier

      The yellow school bus swayed slowly past the glimmering sea that fringed Portage Point and headed toward Seattle: our day-trip destination.

      ‘Ughh, the bus is so bo-o-oring.’ My best friend, Madison, flopped back in her seat next to me. She took a compact from her purse and started sweeping powder across her already-matte nose.

      We were heading to the University of Washington for the start of our two-day college tour. I didn’t know why she was complaining. Being away from school was like a vacation.

      Madison tossed her long dark hair and peeked over her shoulder. I knew she was looking at Peter and barely resisted rolling my eyes. Madison could be totally ADD when it came to guys.

      I slid the cool metal of my charm bracelet through my fingers. ‘At least we’re out of school,’ I said.

      ‘Too bad we can’t do something fun.’ She applied a shiny layer of cotton-candy-pink gloss to her lips and smacked them loudly. ‘Filling out college applications is totally lame.’

      I bit my cheeks so I wouldn’t say anything. Madison’s parents were rich. She didn’t really feel the same pressure I did about college.

      My mom, on the other hand, scrimped and saved every penny so I could go to college after I graduated next year. Four years of tuition was totally going to break her. I kept offering to get a part-time job, but she’d just say my job was to study hard and do well in school.

      I stared past Madison out the bus window and chewed a lock of hair. Sunlight slid through the window, interrupted every so often by the shade of passing trees.

      ‘Did you see Zitty Zara’s new zit this morning?’ Madison stage-whispered. ‘I think there’s a science experiment happening on her forehead.’

      ‘Don’t be mean!’ I smacked her softly, trying not to laugh. Zara did have gross skin, but I felt bad for her.

      ‘Don’t they have Accutane now?’ Madison continued. ‘Why doesn’t she take it?’

      She’d dropped all pretense of whispering, so I shot her a warning look. Zara was only a few rows in front of us. I didn’t want her hearing.

      But Madison ignored me. She could be mean. Like, hurtfully mean. Once in fourth grade we got in a fight, and Madison got all the girls in our class to stop talking to me. Girls who’d been my friends just ‘forgot’ to save me a seat on the bus or invite me to their sleepovers. I’d never forgotten that feeling of not belonging, like wearing someone else’s shoes and feeling the pain all over. Since then I’d made sure never, ever to get on Madison’s bad side.

      ‘What’s in a zit anyway?’ she asked.

      I snickered. ‘It’s pus, you idiot.’

      ‘Eww. God, even the word is gross. Puh, puh, puh-sss.’ She leaned hard on the p sound. I laughed out loud. ‘Puh-ss,’ she enunciated. ‘It’s like an ejection from your mouth. A voiding of puh-ss from a puh-stule.’

      ‘Oh God! Gross!’ I gasped, breathless from concealing my laughter.

      A few rows ahead, Zara turned around. We both ducked below the seat in front of us, laughing hysterically.

      My phone beeped, and I pulled it from my backpack. It was my mom.

       Knock knock

      Who’s there? I texted back.

      Mom: Olive

      Me: Olive who?

      Mom: Olive ya Olivia!

      I laughed and sent her a row of x’s and o’s just as Tyler’s head popped up over the back of our seat.

      ‘Hey, babe.’ His amber-flecked hazel eyes crinkled in a smile.

      My boyfriend was your typical high school athlete. He was captain of the football team, had lettered in every sport he did, and was working toward a football scholarship to UW. He was way popular, and he knew it. Like, in a confident way, not in a dickhead way.

      He leaned down and licked my earlobe, trying to be seductive. I giggled and lurched away from him. He frowned, looking slightly put out.

      ‘God, you guys! Get a room!’ Madison huffed loudly.

      Heat spread up my neck and into my cheeks. Madison could be such a bitch sometimes. Mom told me I should stand up to her. Tyler said I always saw the best in people.

      The truth was, neither of them was right. I was just scared of not being liked.

      Just then Tyler’s friend Peter leaned over the seat next to Tyler. ‘Jesus, you’re the color of a tomato, Liv!’ he hooted.

      He reached out to touch my flaming cheek, but Tyler smacked his hand away, eyes blazing. ‘Don’t touch her, man.’

      My cheeks burned even hotter, but Peter just laughed.

      ‘You’re such a lunatic.’ Madison rolled her eyes flirtatiously.

      Tyler’s eyes tightened and his jaw clenched. ‘Shut up, Madison. You’re just salty ’cause you can’t get a boyfriend.’

      I forced a loud laugh. ‘At least my face isn’t as red as your hair, Peter,’ I joked, trying to defuse the situation.

      ‘Whatever, asshole.’ Madison twisted in her seat so she could scowl out the bus’s window. She popped the earbuds to her iPhone in her ears and turned the volume up until I could hear the tinny beat of pop music.

      ‘Ignore her.’ Tyler tugged me from my seat and sat in my place, pulling me onto his lap and nuzzling my cheek. Tyler and Madison had never really gotten along. She thought he was way too needy.

      With his wavy blond hair and hazel eyes, Tyler was the hottest guy in school. I’d worked hard for my seat at the popular table, but that seat had only been firmly cemented when Tyler and I started dating. And it felt nice being his girlfriend. But it was still mortifying when he tried to make out with me in front of everybody.

      ‘I’ve been thinking about yesterday,’ Tyler whispered in my ear.

      I blushed again, blood pulsing in my ears. I looked around, hoping nobody could hear him.

      Yesterday we’d had a heavy make-out session in my room before my mom got home from work. He got a little too excited, and I’d felt so pressured I burst into tears. He could be like that sometimes: too insistent and intense.

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