» twenty-five: what happened that night (part two)

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Holly wiped away the last of her tears, embarrassed.

Oliver had excused himself sometime during their cryfest, and Holly knew she shouldn't care, but she wondered how she must've looked, with snot dripping down her face and eyes rimmed red with I shed tears.

Her mom sighed, then patted Holly's head, gently smoothing out stray pieces of hair.

"Holly, I know you only have good intentions. But that was reckless and self-destructive behavior. You shouldn't have done it. Maybe you thought you could handle it, but there are...there are situations you can't control, sweetie. If Oliver hadn't come to tell us what had happened to you, none of us would've known until it was too late."

Her mom looked on the verge of crying again, but instead she cleared her throat and stayed firm.

"Where's everyone?" Holly croaked, referring to the noticeable absence of her Dad and her sisters.

It wasn't that she particularly wanted them there to see her — she would feel even more shameful and embarrassed if they were.

Her mom understood her unasked question.

"Dad was here all of last night. I told him to go home and get some sleep. And your sisters — they don't know. Your dad and I talked about it and decided it's up to you if you want them to know."

Holly felt some tension leave her. She didn't want her sisters to know right now. Maybe she was afraid they would judge her. Or maybe she was just afraid of them finding out that something had broken in her after last night. Or maybe it was even that Holly didn't want them to feel the bleakness that she felt right now about the world.

"Okay." Holly said finally. "Can I be alone now?"

Her mother hesitated, but after searching Holly's face, she nodded slowly. "I'll be right aside, sweetie. Just call if you need me."

Once her mom left the room, Holly released the breath she'd been holding.

She actually didn't want to be alone. The room was sterile, white, empty. But what was scarier wasn't the room.

It was the blankness in Holly's head.

Her mom and Oliver had filled some of the gaps, but not all of them.

Especially what had happened after she let Rohan lead her away. She had remembered that part.

She even remembered asking him to take her somewhere quiet.

Why?

It felt so dumb, now, in hindsight.

She should have just left before she got ahead of herself.

But you thought you were so slick.

And what happened afterwards? She couldn't remember. She wondered if...if...anything had happened. Between her and Rohan.

Her body didn't feel different, not really. But how would she know?

The blankness in her head felt like the biggest violation.

"Holly?"

A gentle rap on the door.

"Come in."

Oliver opened the door, closing it softly behind him. He carried a yogurt in one hand.

"For you," he said.

He handed her the yogurt, then from behind his back, revealed a bouquet of flowers.

They were like a burst of a yellow, like someone had thrown a balloon full of yellow paint and sunshine in her face.

Holly took the flowers, fingers trembling.

How did he always know how to make her feel better?

Sunflowers and daffodils peeked out of the delicate plastic wrap, accompanied by an earthy, sweet smell.

Holly buried her face in the flowers, suddenly overwhelmed by an emotion she couldn't express. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd done the same thing for Sadie, but at the same time, she was filled with an intense gratitude at his thoughtfulness.

"Thank you," she said, through a mouthful of flowers.

After she set the flowers aside — which had given her an odd sense of loss — and finished her yogurt, she asked Oliver what had been plaguing her all morning.

"Who...found me? How...how was I? I can't remember anything from last night."

"We went out in pairs of two. Me and an officer found you." A shadow fell over his face, but it passed as quickly as it had come. "You've got a mean right knee, did you know that?"

He grinned, dimpling. Holly really wanted to poke that little dimple.

"I do?"

"You kneed him right...well, right where it matters, if he ever wants to have children, I guess."

Holly flushed. She picked up the flowers again and buried her face in them, their soft petals tickling her skin.

"It was awesome. You were awesome."

At this, Holly raised her face a little, so their eyes met.

His blue ones.

Her green ones.

She looked away again.

She felt, rather than saw, his hand on top of hers. Not forceful, not grabby.

Just there.

So she grabbed it. Squeezed hard.

He squeezed back, then wove his fingers between hers.

Squeezed again.

She raised her face, peeking at him.

This time, he was looking away from her.

"I thought you were pretty cool," he finally said.

Holly didn't dare speak.

"But when I saw you, on the ground, I wanted to hurt him. I never wanted to hurt anyone so bad. Because he was hurting you, and I could see that he was hurting you."

His eyes met hers again, intensely dark and intensely blue, like the ocean at night.

He was the wave running up against the shore, reluctantly to leave it behind.

He was that caressed the sands, telling them he'd be back.

His fingers, laced through hers.

His warmth, against hers.

"I'm okay now," she said.

For those moments where he was with her, she meant it.

For those moments where he was with her, she meant it

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