Written In The Sand

Olivia followed Alex into the kitchen, a dull ache in her head telling her she’d soon be engulfed in a hangover. She climbed onto the barstool as Alex strolled over to the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice.

He poured himself a glass before he looked down at Olivia. So far, this had not been the happy reunion she’d been wanting.

“Start talking then,” Alex said nonchalantly.

Olivia didn’t know where to start. For a second she opened and closed her mouth, struggling to find the words. But then she couldn’t think of anything to say that would explain the last few days.

Alex threw her a help line, “So, you and Jack… no more?” he said. Olivia shook her head and gazed out the window into the backyard. It had started to rain, droplets of water running down the glass doors, blurring the view. Olivia felt the weather had an uncanny likeness to her mood at that moment.

“You alright about that?” Alex asked, his voice dropping sympathetically. Olivia shrugged her shoulders.

Truthfully she didn’t know.

She didn’t know whether she’d been right ending things with Jack. Every time she saw his messy blonde hair and warm, brown eyes her heart yearned to be with him. His smile, his laugh, everything about him made the butterflies in Olivia’s stomach flutter. But she’d ended it and she’d done so for a reason.

Alex ruffled her hair, “You know, just ‘cause things are going a bit shit round here it doesn’t mean you need to, well, act this way,” he said gesturing to her neck. Her hand immediately covered it, self consciously.

“Sean and I aren’t anything,” Olivia mumbled, “We’re barely even friends.”

“Yet you’ll sleep at his house?”

“It wasn’t -,”

Alex cut her off. “So you slept in different beds?”

Olivia’s cheeks betrayed her by flushing furiously.

A deep sigh came from Alex as he smacked both hands on top of the counter. “Look, Olivia. I know Sean. Trained him and the rest of the team last year. He’s a prick.”

Again he cut her off as she opened her mouth to protest.

“Him and his mates have no respect for girls - or anyone really. You’re going to get a rep for yourself,” he argued.

“Alex. I am not sleeping with Sean, nor am I even thinking about it,” Olivia snapped. There was a silence whilst what she said sank in. Alex and Olivia talked about many things but sex was not one of them. Not that Olivia would have had much to say on the topic.

“Oh, well, right then,” Alex began awkwardly, scratching his chest and looking anywhere but at Olivia who was intently staring at the glass of orange juice as if it belonged in a science lab and not in the kitchen. “But the hickey?” he asked, confusion riddled on his face.

“Some guy who thought he’d take advantage of how drunk I was. Sean dragged him off,” Olivia said simply before noticing Alex’s horrified expression, “It was just kissing!”

Immediately the tension in Alex evaporated. His mouth twitched, fighting against a relieved smile. “You’re a good kid really, aren’t you Livy?” he joked, shoving her shoulder.

“I’m seventeen,” Olivia said, a cheeky grin on her face as she stole a drink from Alex’s glass.

“Still a kid to me,” Alex said and grabbed the glass back from her, “And don’t drink so much the next party you’re at!” he called over his shoulder as he walked back into the hallway, his bare feet slapping against the kitchen tiles.

The rest of Olivia’s day passed getting rid of her hangover with a long, hot bath and watching all the Toy Story movies. A whole half hour was dedicated to the hiding of the hickey. She was cuddled up on the sofa with a book when her mum came in.

“Time to go round,” Kirsty said, smiling. Olivia was quite surprised to see her mother looking so glamorous. Her usual attire of jeans and jumpers had been replaced with a classy, cocktail dress and skyscraper heels. The dress was of a deep, wine colour and stopped just above her knees. Her chestnut hair had been teased and prepped and sat in light curls on her shoulders. Kirsty noticed Olivia looking and beamed, “Do I look alright?”

“Mum, you look lovely,” Olivia smiled and gave her mum a hug. Kirsty’s eyes glistened excitedly.

Hitching up the bottom of her dress slightly, Kirsty’s Spanx became visible, “My new best friend,” she laughed, winking. Olivia laughed but the initial shock had worn off. Her mother was awfully dressed up for a night out with the girls.

“Where are you going?” came a curious voice as Olivia’s father walked into the room. He’d just arrived home from work and his tie hung loose around his neck.

“Out with Julie,” Kirsty replied, reapplying her lipstick whilst looking into a little handheld mirror, “Olivia’s babysitting.”

“Well say hello to them all from me,” he said as Kirsty brushed past him, pulling on her coat, into the hallway.

“Make sure to move all your stuff out of Alex’s room so he can sleep in his own bed tonight,” she said.

“Bye dad,” Olivia said giving him a little smile before rushing out to join her mother.

They walked in silence along the pavement. The only noise came from the clicking of Kirsty’s shoes.

“Kirsty! You look amazing!” Julie cried, throwing open the front door. They hadn’t even made it up the steps to ring the doorbell.

“And so do you,” Kirsty smiled. Julie did look very smart in new trousers and a blouse, her jacket slung over one arm and her hair looking as if it had just been cut. Julie turned to Olivia. Immediately Olivia lifted a hand to her neck – a gesture that did not go unseen by Julie.

“They’re all in their pyjamas and their milk is ready to be heated up before they go to bed,” she said. Olivia hoped she wouldn’t say anything to her mum about the hickey. They had once walked past a girl in town whose neck was covered in them and Kirsty had tutted about girls being too promiscuous now and not at all classy.

The two women were obviously excited for their night. They had booked a taxi to pick them up at the end of the street which gave the impression they planned on drinking. With calls of goodbye they left, rather like teenagers, laughing their way up the street.

All three of the children were asleep by eight although Olivia had to read the one book copious amounts of times before Amelia and Lily would let her turn the lights out. Rory, as usual, had gone out as soon as Olivia had lowered him into his Moses basket. She spent the remaining two hours flicking through the TV channels and keeping an eye on the clock. As ten o’clock neared she found her glances at the clock increasing as well as her heart rate.

Jack was due to be home at ten.

Olivia bit her nails as she tried to concentrate on the game show. But for all its dramatics, she just couldn’t.

Ten o’clock came and went. Olivia was really nervous now. Where was he? Who was he with?

She couldn’t bear it if he was with Laura.

It was half ten before Olivia heard the front door open. Freezing, she stared at the TV, hoping he wouldn’t come in here.

“Olivia?” His voice was warm, comforting. Slowly Olivia turned round and looked at him from the back of the couch. He was wearing jeans and a plain, black t-shirt that stretched across his arm muscles. His hair was ruffled, as it always was, sticking out at the top like he’d just ran his hands through it. Olivia’s gaze passed down to his feet. His toes wriggled in his Buzz Lightyear socks.

He was adorable.

“Uhh, I’m babysitting, your mum asked me to baby-sit,” Olivia babbled. Jack grinned bashfully. His feet padded across the carpet as he sat at the opposite end of the couch from Olivia. As he drew nearer, the slight growth of stubble round his jaw became clear. Olivia had always loved the feel of his stubble after a few days, how it felt when he kissed her.

“Were they alright?” Jack said, taking the remote from where it sat next to Olivia. She was hyper-aware of his knuckles brushing her slightly and also very aware of his change in attitude. She may have been drunk but she could still remember what he’d said to her the night before…

She nodded her head and brought her knees up to her chin. Last time they’d occupied this couch together, Olivia thought she was going to lose something. Something you could only lose once. She wondered if Jack was thinking about that too.

“Want to watch something?” Jack asked, “Reckon it will be a good few hours before our mums get back.”

“What about Toy Story?” Olivia laughed. Jack looked down at his socks before grinning at her boyishly.

“Popcorn?” he asked.

“Of course.”

It almost felt normal between them as Jack retrieved the popcorn from the kitchen cupboard and Olivia looked for a bowl. Finding that the one they usually used was dirty she began to hand wash it, scrubbing intently at the cake mix that seemed to have dried into its sides.

“This. Just. Isn’t. Going. To. Budge,” Olivia said through gritted teeth.

“We can just eat out the bag,” Jack said, laughing. He reached over Olivia, who was still determinedly trying to clean the bowl, grabbed it and put it firmly back down on the counter. Olivia turned round and had to stifle a gasp. He was standing so close.

“Toffee, your favourite,” Jack said and popped a piece into his mouth, seemingly unaware.

And then Olivia did something she never set out to do. She took the one step needed towards him, rose onto her toes… and kissed him.

His lips were even softer than she remembered. They tasted like toffee.

Seconds later Rory’s cries floated down from upstairs, shattering the moment. Olivia immediately recoiled, sending the popcorn flying across the room in a magnificent cascade. Jack’s jaw slacked in shock. He seemed to have frozen, his arms stuck to his sides. His brown eyes were wide, his eyebrows raised almost like a cartoons.

“I’m sorry,” she panicked, flapping her own arms about, “I’m so sorry,” and she tore out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs as fast as she could. Her heart pounded like a beating drum in her chest, her head, everywhere.

Flying across Rory’s room, she picked up the tiny, crying child. The blue night-light illuminated his scrunched up face as Olivia rocked him.

“What’s the matter,” she cooed trying to be soothing but all that came out was a slightly deranged cry.

She couldn’t believe what she’d just done. Why, oh why, had she kissed him? She wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t kissed back. His face said it all. How could she explain herself?