THIRTY TWO

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In case anyone doesn't know, in English slang, there's this saying "sisters before misters" and it means that a girl should prioritize her girl friends (sisters) over her boyfriend/husband (the mister).

OLIVIA 

Olivia stood outside the old, beaten apartment door, vigorously pulling her shirt away from her chest to try to blow in some air. It was unbearably hot in what she hoped was Blake's apartment complex. She glanced down at her phone to make sure she was, indeed, at the right address, then rang the doorbell again.

What if Blake wasn't even home? She couldn't wait here for him all day, but she didn't want this trip to be for nothing. She had to see him.

She leaned against the doorframe and rang the doorbell a third time. Maybe she could find his college and hang out there instead. Logan had once told her that his university was open to the public. Maybe Blake's was the same.

At the thought of Logan, Olivia's lungs ached. She slid down against the door, arms over her knees. Maybe she could go find Elijah. But she wasn't even sure she'd be allowed into the prison without an adult, and the trip to the prison was too far for her to comfortably go by herself.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" came a voice from inside the apartment, just when Olivia was wondering if she should leave. She stood up from the floor and brushed off her skirt.

The door opened and Andy came into view, wearing basketball shorts and struggling to pull on a t-shirt. His eyes were half-open and his hair was flattened on the right side. He rubbed his face and leaned tiredly against the door. "Oh. Hey, little sister," he said, his voice soft and raspy with sleep.

"Hi," Olivia said. It wasn't Blake, but at least now she knew she was at the right apartment.

She tried to crane her head around Andy's side and look inside the apartment, to try and see if Blake was in there somewhere. Andy silently moved a little out of the way so she could see better.

"Are you looking for Blake?" he asked, opening the door wider so she could see the whole living room.

"Is he here?"

"He's in class but he should be back soon." Andy pulled the door open all the way. "You can come in."

Olivia eyed Andy, who was now fruitlessly patting his hair down, then the inside of the apartment, which was tiny and disorganized. She stayed where she was in the hallway.

"Um, I think I'll wait for him..." she said uncertainly.

Andy motioned into the apartment. "It's, like, two hundred degrees out in the hallway. Just come inside."

"I don't know..." She wasn't exactly scared of Andy, but she was wary of going places she shouldn't be going. It seemed that every time she did, something bad happened, whether she meant for it to or not.

Andy cracked a small smile. "I swear I'm not weird."

"I brought my pepper spray," Olivia replied.

Andy's eyebrows went up and his sleepy eyes focused on her backpack. He leaned away from her the slightest bit. "Um. Sure. Even better. As long as you don't spray me."

He shut the door behind her and sat her down at the banged up dining table, where there was an assortment of notebooks, receipts, and coffee mugs. Olivia reached for a mug that she recognized. She and Blake had painted mugs the past summer and she'd given him the one she'd painted with the night sky on one half and the sun on the other. The mug was still half full and looked relatively clean, like he had drank out of it that morning.

The Lies He SpokeWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu