The Absence of Olivia(10)

“For what?” Elliot growled before I could even respond.

“For Olivia.”

Elliot scoffed, and then ran his hand over his chin. “Sure, man. Whatever.”

Devon stared at Elliot for a few moments, neither one of them backing down. Finally, unable to stand the tension any longer, I stood and walked to the door.

“Where is she?”

“In the bathroom. She’s drunk and wants to go home. Wouldn’t let me take her myself.”

I nodded, understanding. Sometimes, Liv wasn’t a happy drunk. In fact, she was usually angry. And that anger was usually aimed at the male sex. “Give me a minute. I’ll meet you down there.”

Devon’s eyes bounced between Elliot and me, looking uncomfortable with leaving me alone with him again. But after a few awkward moments, he walked away toward the stairs. I turned to Elliot, took his hand off the doorknob, and closed it slowly.

“It’s not his fault,” I said softly, hoping he’d calmed down a bit. “Olivia isn’t a great person to be around when she’s been drinking.” I tentatively reached out my hand and wrapped it around his forearm, hoping he wouldn’t pull away. I wanted to go back to five minutes ago when all I could feel were his hands on me and his mouth kissing me senseless. He let out a sigh at my touch, as though he was releasing some of the tension I could feel coiled in his muscled arms. When I slid my hand lower to his palm, he linked his fingers with mine and tugged me closer. It was my turn to sigh when he ran the back of his free hand over my cheek.

“You’re oblivious and I can’t tell if it’s cute or irritating.”

“I’m not oblivious,” I whispered, even though I had no idea what he was referring to.

Elliot didn’t respond, just ran his thumb over the line of my jaw, then up and over my bottom lip. He slowly leaned forward and kissed me without urgency or need. It was soft and warm. When he pulled away, I wasn’t ready for his mouth to be gone, so I bit my lip to keep from frowning.

“When are you leaving to go home for the summer?” I was glad to hear all the anger had left his voice and he was back to the calm and gentle Elliot he’d been all night.

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Can I take you to breakfast in the morning?”

I nodded.

“I’ll pick you up at ten, okay?”

I nodded again. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“I’ll see you then.”

“Okay.” He squeezed my hand just before he let it go, and then I opened the door and left to find my friend.

When I found Olivia, she was sitting on the floor of the communal bathroom down the hall from Devon’s room. I cringed, thinking of how filthy the bathroom was and how her hands were lying flat on the nasty tiled floor. She was leaning up against the wall, head hanging low, her hair creating a veil over her face. One of her flip-flops had come off, and her purse was three feet away from her, splayed on the gross tiles.

“Okay, Livy, time to go.” I knelt down and tried lifting her under her arms, not wanting to touch her hands. She didn’t budge much, but she did grumble at me about wanting to go back to sleep. “Liv, seriously, get up off the floor. You’re going to catch chlamydia down there.” I tried to lift her again, but it was no use.

“Do you want some help?” Devon appeared in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, watching me struggle.

“Would you mind?”

He didn’t answer, but he walked to her, bent down, and with one arm around her back, the other behind her knees, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing. He moved to the door and I picked up her loose flip-flop and her purse, following behind.

“You can’t carry her all the way home. Let’s call a cab.”

“Evie, it’s not that far. I can make it.” He punctuated his words by adjusting Liv in his arms, her body jumping but falling back closer to his. She was out. I’d never seen her that drunk before.

“How’d she get this drunk?” I asked as I followed him out of the house, the telltale sounds of the college party muting the farther we walked from the door.

“She just kept going back for more. I tried to get her to slow down, but when I realized she wasn’t going to, I stopped drinking so at least one of us would be sober.”

The thoughtfulness of his actions wasn’t lost on me. Not all college boys would stay sober to make sure their sloppy-drunk date was safe. I imagined most boys would drink right along with her hoping it would lead to drunken sex. Liv looked anything but sexy right then.

“Liv has some issues. When she drinks, all the walls she usually puts up to protect herself fall down and she starts to feel things. Don’t take it personally. It’s not you she’s angry with.”

He was silent for a while and I just listened to the sound of our footsteps on the concrete.

“How high are her walls?” His voice was rough, a mixture of emotion and exhaustion.

“What do you mean?”

“Her walls. Are they so high that no one will ever be able to get over them? Or are they just, like, intimidatingly high?”

I thought about his question, picturing him on one side of a cartoonishly high wall, Liv on the other, back leaning up against it, hair fallen around her face, head bowed. “I don’t think anyone’s ever really tried to climb them.”