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Olive

I ’m in the middle of Hershey Park with a giant chocolate bar mascot staring at me when my phone starts blowing up.

At first it’s two messages, but that turns into four, which turns into eight.

And then my social media notifications start multiplying like the bunnies that used to live in our backyard growing up.

“What the…?” When I open one of the apps, my face is the first thing I see. Well, not just mine. Mine and Alex’s. Then I scroll down and see an image of me with the team walking into Belle’s Place.

And the angles are…unforgiving.

I cringe at the double chin that somebody looks like they photoshopped to make my natural one look worse. Great. And is that…did they make me bigger ? As if I needed help with that.

Then I see the comments, and I really wish I hadn’t. Because they’re gross. Worse than the first time.

Stix6969: Isn’t this the same jersey chaser who was with Hoffman from the Rangers? She gets around fast

TaylorPMP91: They running train now??

PatYorks86: She clearly is eating them alive

AbroBro: They could do way better

I don’t want to keep reading, so I force myself to turn my screen off and look around for Alex, who disappeared into the restroom a couple of minutes ago.

When my phone vibrates with Sebastian’s name on the screen, I groan loudly. “Shit.”

The Hershey bar staring at me puts its hand on its hips like it’s scolding me for swearing.

“If you knew what was going on, you’d be cussing too, buddy,” I inform the person behind the costume.

Whoever it is shakes their head in disagreement. But I don’t have time to argue with a character whose job is to pretend to be a happy piece of chocolate.

“Hey, big brother,” I greet chipperly, turning away from the mascot and walking toward a bench off to the side. “How’s Tori and the baby?”

“Are you really going to pretend like you’re not with Alex O’Conner and his fucking team right now?” he asks dryly. “Really, Olive?”

I nibble my bottom lip. “I was being nice. People usually start phone conversations with greetings. You didn’t even say hi to me.”

“Hi. Now why the fuck are you with Alex?”

I make a face. “Well…” It should be an easy answer. I’m with Alex. Just say it.

Three.

Two.

One.

“I’m—”

“You better not be with the guy,” Sebastian says, cutting me off. “He’s bad news, Olive. I mean it. You don’t know him like I do. I’ve seen him lose his shit on people for no damn reason.”

Alex? “Isn’t that part of hockey? You’re all spontaneously abrasive. It’s what makes you good players.”

He cusses. “I saw him knock out Able Starr during my last season at Lindon. One punch and he was out cold in the locker room.”

I gape. Able was a brute of man compared to Alex. That seems almost impossible. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Alex? Because you used to play with Alex Bordeau, that French-Canadian guy who transferred to Lindon. He was massive.”

I’m pretty sure he did steroids, but that’s neither here nor there.

“It was O’Conner,” my brother deadpans. “I don’t want to be an asshole, Olive.

But his anger gets the better of him and he can snap when you least expect it.

The guy can be quiet and reserved, but there’s a side of him I don’t want you around.

I told you before to stay away from my teammates, especially him.

Remember? You were supposed to remember Eli Manning. ”

Is he serious? “So what? Was I supposed to only think about a famous athlete who I’ll never meet, much less be with? That’s unfair, and you know it. You might as well tell me you want me to stay single forever.”

He doesn’t tell me I’m right. “Cut whatever this is off with O’Conner.”

Wetting my lips, I study my surroundings to see if Alex has found where I’ve wandered off to. He’s talking to a group of guys who are holding out their phones for selfies with him.

“I love you, Seb, but you don’t know him the same way I do. I’m not saying I don’t believe you—” He scoffs at that. “—but I am saying that we know him differently.”

“So you are with him? You’re a thing or something?” he questions, obviously not pleased by the question.

I don’t want to lie to him. “We’re working on it. There’s a lot I’ve learned about him recently that I never knew before. You’d be surprised.”

He’s quiet.

Then, “How long has this been going on?”

I’m not in the mood to go over the details of my on-again off-again sex life with the person currently making his way over to me.

“Does it matter? Look, I’m sorry if this upsets you.

I don’t want it to. But I need to make my own decisions.

And I’m choosing this for myself just like you chose your life with Tori. Okay?”

Sebastian makes a disgruntled noise. “If he touches you, if he ever hurts you, I’m going to end him. And then I’m going to bring him back to life to do it all over again.”

That’s…dark. And sweet? Jury is out on that one. “Got it. Well, great talk. Love you, Sebastian. ’Kay, bye.”

Alex stops in front of me with his brows pinched when I hang up right as my brother starts to say something else. “What did your brother want?”

“Do you ever check your phone? Because I’m sure you could find out if you logged onto literally any social media page. We’re currently viral on at least one of them.”

He blinks slowly before pulling his cell out and clicking a few buttons. When his jaw ticks and teeth grind, I know he sees what I do. “I’m going to kill him.”

Him? “Who?”

“Moskins.”

“Alex, look at those pictures.” God only knows which one he sees. The one where I look like a whale? Or the one where the human race can live between my chin folds? “He’s in some of them with us. I highly doubt he was the one who took them much less posted them.”

His nostrils flare with anger. “Did you read the comments?”

Duh . “Wouldn’t you?”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“What do you expect, Alex? Trust me, I didn’t read them all. After the train comment, I figured it was best to check out.”

His face gets red, and a vein pops out on his forehead. “They’re scumbags. Don’t listen to that bullshit.”

Easier said than done.

“Your brother saw it,” he states.

I nod. “Yep,” I pop the P. “And he’s not happy.” I rub my lips together, wondering if I should bring up what Sebastain said. But if I don’t, I know it’ll eat at me. “He said something to me that seemed…concerning.”

Alex lowers his phone. “Like what?”

I fidget with my hands. “He seems to think you’re violent and unpredictable. Apparently, you beat up Able Starr once.”

He blinks.

But he doesn’t deny it.

“ Did you hit Able?”

His shoulders slacken with a heavy sigh. “I did, actually. But Able deserved it. I don’t just go around punching people, Olive. You should know that.”

“I do .” I swallow. “Look, Seb has always been protective of me. You know that. Our mom used to briefly see someone who put his hands on her, so I guess he’s…sensitive of things like that happening to me.”

Alex sits down beside me, holding my hand. “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I know you wouldn’t, and I told my brother that. But he seems to think you flipped your switch out of nowhere. That worries him.”

The pad of his thumb caresses the back of my hand.

“I understand that. If I were in his shoes, I’d feel the same way.

But I promise you, Able was talking shit and didn’t stop when I told him to.

So, yeah, I punched him. Harder than I probably should have.

He went down and I got benched for a couple of games.

It was no big deal. Able even apologized to me. Did Sebastian tell you that?”

Quietly, I say, “No.”

“Didn’t think so.” He scratches his jaw. “I’m not perfect. I’m far from it. But I’m not a violent guy. You never have to worry about something like that with me. I’m not my mother. I’m not going to mentally check out or act up.”

I meet his eyes. “I know you’re not like her.”

We stare at one another for a moment longer before he dips his chin. “I’m going to deal with these pictures,” he reassures me. “But let’s not let it ruin this trip. We haven’t even made our own Reese’s cups like you wanted.”

Even though I’m not in the mood to do that anymore, I know he’s right. “Maybe we should make one and share it?” I suggest, knowing how big they are. The thought of pictures of me winding up online with a one-pound peanut butter cup hurts my stomach.

He tips my chin up. “If that’s what you want, then sure. But if you’re only doing it because of those dickwads online, then fuck them.”

I swallow, feeling a little guilty for letting myself believe some of those awful things. But I’m human. Anybody would feel that way.

“Let’s share one,” I tell him quietly.

Something passes through his eyes.

But he simply nods and stands, offering his hand to me.

I don’t take it.

“Olive,” he says softly.

“I’m fine,” I lie, feeling the heaviness of my conscious weigh me down. The claws of my inner demons sink into my mind and heart, trying to pull me down with it into the depths of God only knows where.

I don’t want to go down that road—to get lost in the anxiety spiral that will undoubtedly lead to a depression that I’m not sure I can pull myself out of once I’m alone in Lindon.

“You’re not,” he tells me, brushing hair behind my ear. “And you’re not alone. I’ll make this better. I promise.”

You’re not alone.

My heart tugs in my chest as I force myself to swallow. We don’t speak on the way to the factory where we have tickets to.

When we get there, he makes a dark chocolate stuffed Reese’s with all of my favorite inclusions—even the marshmallows that he doesn’t like.

For me.

He did it for me.

You’re not alone.

No matter how hard my demons fight to drag me down, those words keep me afloat.

*

One of the many things I love about my friends is how polar opposite they are. Skylar is quiet, reserved. She doesn’t like confrontation. But Berlin is the exact opposite.

“If I could put laxatives in each one of those morons’ drinks, I would,” she tells me. “And I’d force it down their throats.”

“Geez,” I hear Skylar say over Bentley’s subtle noises. “Why does it sound like you’ve done that before?”

Berlin snorts. “I may have put laxatives in some cookies I made once. In my defense, the girl who ate them kept stealing my lunch at school. I needed to get payback. I didn’t think she’d eat the entire bag of cookies.”

My eyes widen. “Oh my God. What happened to her?”

“She shit her brains out and stopped taking my food,” Berlin answers casually. “Easy peasy.”

Everybody is silent for a solid minute.

It’s Skylar who says, “Mental note. Never piss off Berlin.”

“Agreed.”

The girl in question laughs. “I’d never do that to you guys. She deserved it.”

“Anyway,” I butt back in, steering clear of Berlin’s shady history. “I appreciate you guys calling, but I’m fine.”

They’re quiet only for a second.

Berlin says, “I don’t buy it.”

I frown.

Skylar sighs softly. “You don’t always have to be okay, Olive. We’re here for you if you want to vent. Those people were mean for no reason.”

They were, but I can’t change it. “If I dwell on it…” What good will that do? “I can’t change people’s opinions of me. They can think whatever they want. And, inevitably, post about it. It’s freedom of speech.”

“But isn’t there such thing as defamation of character?” Berlin quips. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. You could sue.”

Sue who? The public? “I’m not suing anyone. And I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that anyway.”

“You’re not a cop. You don’t know the law,” Berlin argues.

It doesn’t make me think any differently. “I don’t like what they’re saying, but they’re going to say worse things if I fire back. Alex is taking care of it.”

He’d made a post online telling people to stop in much more colorful words that left little interpretation. I’m not sure what the results were because I refused to look.

“Where is Alex?” Skylar asks.

“At a team meeting,” I say, curling deeper into the bed. The mattress called to me as soon as he left. He pressed a kiss against my temple and told me he’d be back in a few hours. I could have gone and explored the stadium or city, but I didn’t want to.

Everything feels heavy, making the only thing I want to do is sleep.

And I would be by now if the girls hadn’t called me from Skylar’s place since I ignored their slew of messages after social media deemed me some jersey chasing troll.

I haven’t even called my mom back after seeing her missed call and voicemail.

“He left you alone?” Berlin demands.

“I wanted to be left alone,” I defend. “Look. I’m kind of tired. If it makes you feel any better, my mother left me a voicemail saying she’d “open a can of whoop ass” on the media. She was proud of herself.”

“As she should be,” Berlin muses.

Bentley wails, and Skylar’s comforting coos try to shush him.

“We’ll let you go. But remember that it’s okay not to be okay.

We’re human. Anybody in your shoes would be upset if they were being talked about like that.

We both know that I didn’t take well to people making comments about me around campus. ”

I felt so bad for her when her former roommate and so-called “friends” were spreading rumors about her our freshman year.

It’d made her first year at Lindon hell.

At least, it was one of the things that made it hell.

I’m glad we found each other when we did.

I’m not sure either of us would have survived this long otherwise.

“We love you,” Berlin adds, “and we want you to be happy.”

Am I happy? I’m with the boy I can’t stop thinking about, who’s willing to go to war for me over internet warriors. But there’s a piece of me that feels burdened by my brother’s cold shoulder since his call yesterday. I hurt him, and I feel guilty.

“I am,” I tell them anyway, hoping to believe it one day. “Maybe not this second, but I’m happy. And I will be okay. I come home on Sunday.”

“Girls’ night?” Skylar suggests.

“Ooooh! I’ll bring wine!” Berlin squeals.

I want to tell them no.

That I want to be by myself when I get home.

But Alex’s words ring in my head.

You’re not alone.

Friends are important—more times than not, they’re your real soulmates in life. Romantic partners can come and go, but friends…they’re real. They stay for life.

So, I say, “Sure.”

Because I don’t want to be alone. No matter how much my mind wants me to be.