“A ball?” She deadpans. “Do you really think I’m that gullible?”
“I’m dead serious. It was even milky white like those ones fortune tellers have, and she swore we’d have bad luck.”
“And you believed her?”
“I didn’t. Not until I got pulled over for having too much mud on my license plate and nearly missed my flight to the last game, and then busted my knee. Since then, my phone was stolen. The replacement came, and the phone wasn’t in the box—which took a week to convince them that they’d messed up. I also had my identity stolen last week, and today I nearly ran over a cat. You tell me, would you believe her?”
Olivia stares at me, her blue eyes making her lashes look even darker. “So, why would you ask me to go find her with you? Shouldn’t you be asking your friend Ian?”
“Well, I would, but his luck hasn’t changed, only mine has, so he doesn’t believe it.”
She scrunches her nose. “And he shouldn’t. Neither should you. I’m sure this is just a string of coincidences that make it seem like you’ve been cursed.”
I chew the bite of vegetables and rice in my mouth, coughing when the food gets stuck in my throat.
Olivia turns and grabs a glass from the dishwasher and fills it halfway with water before quickly placing it in front of me. My eyes blur as I cough to clear my throat. I reach for the glass, and the second my fingers wrap around the cup, it cracks.
I cough again, taking a drink when the glass remains intact. Then I turn my attention to her, catching the surprise in her gaze. “Believe me now?”
She shakes her head. “The glass was probably still warm from the dishwasher. It’s science.”
I shake my head. “If only it were that simple.”
“It is,” she insists.
“Okay, well, I’ll make you a deal. If something else breaks while I’m here, you’ll try and help me find this lady who jinxed me, and if not, I’ll chalk it up to science, and we’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”
That teasing smile returns to her face. “Afraid I’ll reveal your crazy side?”
I laugh. “I let that flag fly, baby.”
Her smile slips. “You should ask Rose.”
“Why? Are you afraid I’m going to hit on you?”
Skepticism has her brow sinking.
I nod. “You probably should worry—under normal circumstances, I definitely would—but I’m not looking for a serious relationship. I have a newly acquired set of rules similar to Rose’s after these past few months.”
“So, you're superstitious with a bum knee, and you’re harboring a vendetta. You’re in bad shape, buddy.”
“Rose also mentioned you have a boyfriend in Texas, so I figured we could hang out, and things wouldn’t get complicated. Platonic and all that shit. Because I need to be around people, and everyone I know plays football or talks about football.”
“You don’t even know me,” she says, shaking her head.
“I know Rose likes you, and you like to bust my balls.”
She rolls her eyes again, but the glimmer of a smile touches her eyes as she looks at the cat. “Sorry, but I’m not playing Sherlock Holmes.”
Although I was hoping for her to say yes, I was expecting this response. If someone had approached me with this crazy idea six months ago, I would have looked at them like they’d escaped an asylum.
“Are you sure this cat isn’t sick?” she asks, looking down at it cradled in her arms.
“Why?”
“Aren’t kittens supposed to be crazy and playful? All this one does is sleep.”
I shake my head. “He’s a baby. Babies sleep a lot.”
The same look of mistrust crosses her features. “If you say so.”
The front door opens behind us and Rose appears, her arms filled with bags. “Have I mentioned how happy I am that we waited for a ground-level apartment?” she asks, dropping the bags and making the cat jump and arch. Olivia tries to hold on to it, leaning close enough to the floor to let the cat jump down, where he scampers under the couch.
“Sorry. My bad,” Rose says.
Olivia pulls up her sleeves, revealing bright red scratches. “Have I mentioned how bad of an idea this is?”
6
Olivia
“That was my fault,” Rose says. “Are you okay?” She steps toward me, taking a closer look at the scratches marking my skin.
“Yeah. It’ll be fine.” I head into the kitchen, washing the scratches that look like thin welts with soap and water. I’m in the process of drying them with a paper towel when my phone rings.
Matt.
It’s Matt!
I silently squeal with happiness, my battle wounds are all but forgotten as I glance from Arlo to Rose. “Sorry to ditch out, but I’ve got to get this.” I point to my bedroom.
“Oh,” Rose teases. “Is it Matt?” She proceeds to make a dozen air kisses as I make my way toward my room. “I hope you tell him he’s got to bring it when you visit this spring break. Your vajayjay’s going to look like a dried well after how long you’ve been waiting for him.”
I look at Arlo. “See? I told you, she’s worse.” Before he can respond, I answer the call so it doesn’t go to voicemail and offer a small wave to them before disappearing into my room.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey, Olivia Reid.” Matt’s voice greets me like a warm hug, his familiar Southern twang a balm to my ears, and the anxieties I don’t even recognize until I feel suddenly calmer, better—freer. He always calls me by my full name, something I find strangely endearing.
“How are you?” I ask.
“Better now that I’m talkin’ to you.”
My cheeks tug up into a smile that makes my muscles instantly ache because only Matt makes me smile like a schoolgirl. “Look at you being sweet.”
He chuckles. “I heard from Sophia that you’re comin’ home for spring break next month,” he says, mentioning my best friend in Texas.
I collapse against my bed, raising a fist into the air. “You heard correct.”
“And you weren’t gonna tell me?”
“I was planning on it.”
“You better have been plannin’ to tell me.”
My stomach clenches. “I get there on the twentieth, and I’ll be there for ten days.”
“Those ten days will probably feel like a second,” he drawls his words, each one making a statement that makes my heart race like a stampede.
“I’m sure we can find ways to draw out a few of those days.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, his tone playful. “What’d you have in mind, Olivia Reid?”
My heart beats so fast it feels like I just ran a mile. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
“A man could go crazy waitin’ for you, Olivia Reid.”
I close my eyes and picture Matt. His boyish smile and bright blue eyes. I imagine his light blond hair and suntanned skin and the scent of his cologne because when I hear his voice, I can remember him like it was seconds ago that I saw him rather than months.