Take It to Heart

I don't remember what I dreamt about before waking up, but it must have been good because the headache looming in my head didn't bother me much. Memories from last night meshed together and it became hard to place everything in order. The details were clear, though. And one thing was certain: I kissed Oliver. I rolled onto my back and replayed the scene in the back garden over in my head. I knew it happened, but it seemed like I watched it in a movie rather than experienced it firsthand. Butterflies welled up in my stomach as questions popped up in my head. Did he remember? Would he say anything? Is the wedding going to be awkward now? I needed to find my mobile. Maybe he texted or called or something.

Rolling out of Anna's bed, I found one of her sweatshirts on the floor, tugged it over my head, and shuffled out to the kitchen. She stood in front of the stove where breakfast fried in a pan. It looked like eggs, sausage, and fried tomatoes. A proper fry up for a proper hangover. Anna looked like hell. Her hair was piled on her head and last night's makeup smeared under her eyes. I probably looked just as bad.

"Morning," she grumbled. With her right hand on a spatula, she used her left to pick up an aspirin bottle and set it in front of me. I grabbed it eagerly and shook out two pills. "Your mobile went off a couple times, too."

My eyes darted around the room. When they landed on my purse, where I knew my phone was, I hesitated. If it was Oliver texting me, maybe I wouldn't like what he had to say. I grabbed my phone and seated myself at Anna's tiny kitchen table. There was room for two, maybe. When I finally checked my phone, four text messages waited for me.

All of the messages were from Oliver. The first was sent at 3:08 a.m. Did you get back alright?

3:57 a.m. Hope you are safe xx

4:12 a.m. Rose?x

4:23 a.m. Riingg me tomrow,yeah?xx

Oliver's texts got progressively worse. He must have kept drinking after the police left the house. Anna saved me from having to reply by setting a plate down in front of me followed by a fork and knife. I barely managed to thank her before stuffing my face full of food. I didn't realize how hungry I was. I put eggs onto my slice of toast in one hand and poked my fried tomatoes with the other.

"Slow down before you choke," Anna said. She hardly touched her own plate.

I set down my toast and took a sip of Anna's water. "Thanks for making all of this."

I wanted to apologize for dragging her away from Oliver's friend the night before, but it wasn't necessary. We never actually stayed mad at each other. Eating breakfast now meant everything was okay.

"Was it Oliver that texted you?" She asked.

"It was just drunk gibberish."

"Wait for him to come to you. You don't want to put yourself too far out there."

I nodded. I knew I wasn't going to call him. He would wake up eventually, so it could be his duty to contact me. However, today is Wednesday and that means we leave for the wedding in two days. Worrying about Oliver and my brother wasn't in the plan.

The following day, Oliver finally texted me. I worked at the library all afternoon and he asked if he could come by. We still hadn't seen each other in person since the party. After I told him it was okay to come by, I ran to the bathroom and started fixing my hair and sweater. I really shouldn't give a damn what I looked like because it was Oliver. The chances of him liking me were slim, and the chances of me ever admitting I had feelings for him were even smaller. I added a new coat of Chapstick to my lips and exited the bathroom.

Broomhill, empty as usual, taunted me with silence. A clock on the wall ticked annoyingly and the heater made an unpleasant rattling noise. All of it signaled the waiting game. I pushed back from my seat again and busied myself with tasks I usually didn't do. I scooped up a pile of books and took them into the back room. One by one I looked them up and figured out whether they stayed at our library branch or shipped off to another in Sheffield. Fascinating, right? Working at the library always reminded me how boring I am.

"Hard at work I see?"

I whirled around, nearly dropping a whole load of books. When had the door bell dinged? Why did I not hear him come in? Oliver stood in front of me, quite amused with my reaction. I gained my composure, straightened my back, and rolled my eyes. "You could have said hello, or cleared your throat. Or something."

He just looked at me, smirk on his face. "How much longer are you here?"

I pushed my sleeve up and looked down at my watch. "I could probably close up any time now with no one noticing."

"You fancy a bite to eat?"

Maybe I was relieved that there was no mention of the party or the kiss. He carried on the conversation like nothing happened at all. I followed the routine of closing the library with Oliver on my heels. He blabbered on about a new noodle restaurant not far from here. According to him, they served the "best fuckin' tofu pad thai I ever bloody ate." So I locked the front door and agreed to go.

Oli was right. The restaurant was fantastic. I had tom yum stir fry, with tofu to appease Oliver. He ordered us a couple beers to go along with the meal and we sat and talked even once our plates were finished and cleaned away. I couldn't help but get the feeling that dinner was basically a date. It was just the two of us sitting in the corner of a restaurant chatting and drinking and having a good time. I wouldn't spoil the evening with my nonsense thoughts, so I acted like I usually did. In a way, having some conversation about the kiss would have been nice. It would answer some questions for me. But overall, this was better than nothing.

xx

"Have you got pants? Pajamas? Jumpers? Oh! What about knickers?" Oliver stood over my packed suitcase as I checked and double checked the contents. I did not want to make it to Reading just to realize I forgot something at home. "Socks? Shit for your hair? The dress you --"

"Yes, Oliver, I have all those things," I said with a laugh. Finally, I zipped the bag shut and stepped aside. "Will you walk it to the car?"

He picked it up, pretending not to struggle with the weight, and exited my room. The house was empty. Mum didn't want to be around when I left for Reading. I still felt awful about the whole situation. My poor mum, not even invited to her son's wedding. I had little time to dwell on it. I followed Oliver out into the living room and wrote a quick note to my mum and Charlie. By the time I got outside, the car was running and Oliver looked ready to go.

We took the M1 motorway, which usually took about three hours. Traffic always got horrendous around London once the motorway passed St. Albans. But the drive wasn't bad. Oliver drove with music on and I fell asleep for most of the ride. When I awoke, we were somewhere outside Windsor. That meant we were only twenty or so minutes from my dad's house where we would be staying.

Oliver didn't notice that I woke up. So I watched him quietly for a while, still curled up in the passenger seat. He was humming to a song and drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. I followed his hands up to his face. My line of sight was slightly blocked by the seatbelt but I still got a good view of him. I didn't comment on it earlier, but he looked nice today. Maybe because he was meeting half of my family he felt the need to clean up a bit. He wore a long sleeve button up, his hair was trimmed, and he took time to iron his trousers. I never thought someone like Oliver would try and make a nice first impression.

When I finally sat up in the seat and readjusted my top, Oliver was exiting the motorway. "You'll have to tell me how to get there."

"Of course," I replied. I yawned, still tired from my nap. Suddenly, I was nervous. We were so close to my dad's at this point, and I was worried about him meeting Oliver. There were also so many people I had never met.

"Feelin' alright? You look rather pale," Oli commented.

"Just nervous," I replied. I offered him a small smile and sunk back into my seat. We were driving through my dad's neighborhood now, so there was no turning back.

Oliver pulled into the driveway and turned off the car. He reached over the center divider and took my hand. The gesture was the most contact we had since the party. "I should be more nervous than you. I can't remember the last time I willingly met a bird's dad."

"Alright, let's be brave."

I let go of Oliver's hand and opened the car door. By the time we both headed up to the porch, the front door swung open. My dad stood there, a grin on his thin face. He had always been lanky like a string bean. Now, wrinkles merged with his smile lines and his hair was starting to gray. I couldn't help but smile back and quicken my pace. I accepted the hug he offered and let him hold me at arms length away. "Beautiful as ever!"

"Thanks dad," I replied with a shake of my head.

"And who is your friend?"

"Oh wow, I'm so rude. Dad, this is Oliver," I stepped aside, revealing the skinny, tattooed boy behind me. He stepped forward to shake my dad's hand. The tattoos stamped across his fingers and hand didn't even phase my dad. He glanced at them, shrugged, and welcomed us into his house.

"It's nice to see Rosie with a good lad," My dad said over a cuppa tea.

I instantly flushed red, but Oliver played it off. We had been catching up for the past two hours and Oliver really impressed me. Not only did he nicely hold a conversation with my dad, but he was polite and sounded intelligent. It was weird seeing this side of Oli. Usually I got the cursing, drinking, and smoking side of him.

I changed the direction of the conversation. "Are we going to see Josh tonight?"

"I think he made dinner reservations somewhere. He really wants you to meet Lark," my dad replied. "Why don't you bring your bags in and get ready to go?"

He put Oliver and I into the guest room, obviously believing we were a couple. I was too nervous to correct him and Oli was just fine playing along. "This will be so much better than the sofa," he commented and fell back onto the bed. He watched me with lazy eyes as I ran a brush through my hair and added a cardigan over my outfit. I reached for my makeup bag, but Oliver stopped me. "Don't put anymore on, you look lovely."

I smiled bashfully and turned to face the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Are you ready then?" I asked. He nodded and I reach out a hand to pull him up. Without warning, I slipped my arms around his middle and gave him a quick hug. "Thanks again for coming. Now let's go."