Drop Dead.

It was impossible to sleep in the same bed as David after what had happened in the bathroom just down the hall. It took all of the strength I had in me not to either cry or spill to David. I didn’t want him killing Oliver in his parents’ house. I was sure to avoid both Oliver and Melanie because I knew if Melanie saw the guilt-ridden expression on my face, she’d pester me about it until I spilled.

The only good thing that seemed to come out of what happened was the fact that I now knew why Oliver had been so sour towards me. And when I would have been elated at any other time, whenever I looked at David, I was overwhelmed with guilt and the sudden urge to burst into tears.

He couldn’t know, not while we were staying with his parents. I didn’t want to cause them any more trouble than allowing us to stay with them. So I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t need to worry about Oliver doing the same; he was too chicken-shit to ruin what he had with Melanie, even though he already had by kissing me, her best friend.

Despite the fact that I cheated on David, my stomach was aflutter with butterflies and my heart was skipping beats. Oliver had kissed me, after I spent weeks convincing myself that he was untouchable and didn’t feel the same way I did. But I had been wrong – very, very wrong. And now that I knew his feelings, it was impossible to stay away.

But I fought off my urges at least while we were still in Ireland. I knew I had to talk to Oliver, ask him why he chose now of all times to show me his feelings. But the one thing I was worried about was: what if, when I spoke to him one-on-one, what if I didn’t have the strength to push him away again?

David’s mother took Melanie and me out to explore the rural part of Ireland. She drove a small sedan that had seen better days and the back seat windows didn’t roll up, so Melanie was breathing in lungfuls of dust as we bunkered down an old dirt road. I offered to trade seats with her, but both she and Mrs. Murphy convinced me otherwise. I guess David’s mother and I needed severe bonding, in the words of Melanie.

She stayed quiet throughout most of the ride, speaking only when Linda – she’d politely urged me to call her by her first name – asked about Melanie’s life. Mostly, though, Linda inquired about my life, seeing as I was seeing her son. She asked what I did for a job (“barista at a small cafe”), where I was from, since she knew my accent wasn’t fully English (“Michigan, originally”) and then she dove into a whole new series of questions about my life in the United States. This was a topic I’d been hoping to avoid, but Linda wasn’t as observant as her son, so she couldn’t see that the subject made me uncomfortable. Melanie, ever the lifesaver, interrupted suddenly before I could speak and started asking Linda questions about her life. She seemed to forget about my unanswered question immediately.

When we got back to the house, I thanked Melanie for saving my ass. However, I couldn’t look her in the eye after what I’d done so I focused on something behind her. As if God was spiting me, Oliver appeared in my line of vision. The guilt in my stomach worsened considerably and I felt like my knees were going to give out. I felt the color drain from my face.

“Char?” Mel asked, concerned. “Yeh all right? Yeh look a bit queasy.”

“I-I’m fine,” I responded breathlessly, glancing briefly at Oliver over her shoulder. My stomach gave a painful lurch and I made a beeline for the bathroom, rushing past both a confused Melanie and an indifferent Oliver.

“Are yeh all right, Char?” Mel’s voice questioned from the doorway. She watched in concern as I wiped my face free of the tears that had escaped.

“Yeah, probably something I ate,” I lied. I stood up with her help and washed out my mouth, still avoiding her eyes.

This guilt was going to be the death of me, but I feared telling her what happened would make this trip even worse. So, I decided, if Oliver didn’t tell her when we returned to Sheffield, I would. It was only fair to her. Of course, I ran the risk of losing her as a best friend, but at least I wouldn’t be ridden with guilt until I died.