Write Me A Letter

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN | R I G H T

      BRIE WENT AFTER JEAN. It was a decision she knew she had to do, and though she wanted nothing more than to run after Paula and tell her that she was sorry for being an awful friend, leaving Jean behind was something she couldn't do—she'd regret it if she did. So, she walked up to the huge, wooden front doors and filled her lungs with air and courage. She was all by herself now.

Back inside Wes's house, the crowd had doubled. A slow hum of pop music was playing while everyone was trying to grab drinks and find places to sit in. A group of three guys she remembered from the basketball team was recording themselves as they flipped bottles in the air. All three bottles landed on their sides, eliciting laughs from their audience.

As she went deeper inside, she saw Simon from the corner of her eye. He had put a mustard shirt on and was talking to Troy and Ollie who was leaning against the banister, a red solo cup in his hand. Ollie caught her staring at them, and she scrambled away to the kitchen the second their eyes met.

Heart running fast, Brie raced inside. The kitchen was bare except for the half-empty cans and bottles of Coke and Sprite that littered the sink—round circles of soda ringed the bottoms of the cans. She felt her shoulders sag in relief as she leaned against the marble island. What was wrong with her? Why was she reacting this way? Ollie never made her feel this anxious before, but right now, it felt as if one look from him would send her running for the hills.

It was almost the same feeling she had whenever Xander was near. Could it be that—?

It must be the stress. It should be, right?

The sound of footsteps made her look up and there, walking toward her was none other than Ollie. Her mouth ran dry.

"Hi," he said, tone cool and light. Then he turned to open the fridge. His voice sounded muffled as he rummaged through the cans. He glanced at her over his shoulder. "Didn't spot you earlier."

She struggled to find the words to say, definitely still stupefied from his sudden presence. The last time they talked, Ollie left the ball in her court. What he wanted her to do was clear: trust them. But her being the person she was, she didn't. She left that ball on the floor until it slid down to the foot of the bleacher and collected dust.

And now that ball felt like it was lodged between her tonsils.

That was one thing she hated about herself—she was only brave when it came to impulsive decisions, but never with long-term ones that required lots of pondering and humility. Hence, she was here, standing in Wes's littered kitchen in hopes that she could save Jean.

The sound of the fridge clicking shut cleared her thoughts. She remembered what Ollie said and her lips pouted.

Of course, you didn't see me. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and pressed her lips together instead. Ollie was too busy ogling his girl to even notice anyone.

Not that Yuki wasn't a sight in her cherry red bikini and pin-straight black hair with gray tips. The girl was gorgeous. Long legs that stretched almost as long as Brie's stupidity and sharp cheekbones that could cut her sanity.

A can of flavored beer was plopped onto the island just a few inches from Brie's hips. It was already popped open and a bit dribbled down to its side, but Brie just let it sit there.

"Don't want some beer?" Ollie raised his own can, a small smile played on his face.

"I don't drink."

He shrugged. The gesture was so familiar that her stomach tightened. That was the Ollie she knew—careless, clueless, always laughing. But the months apart made her feel as if she didn't know him anymore. Her heart ached with old memories. "You used to. We even held contests on who gets to chug the most beer."

A snippet with faded edges wanted to tickle her mind but she pushed it down with a pained smile. "I stopped drinking a few months ago."

"Anything serious?" His brows were knitted together, concern written on his pretty face. "It's not your asthma, right?"

"No no." She shook her head, "just needed to reassess some stuff."

"Is coming here part of the reassessment?"

She wasn't expecting that. The teasing smile on his face told her that he knew.

"I'm just here for..."

What was she doing? None of her old friends were her friends anymore. She was sure even Paula hated her. Now that she was in front of Ollie, the ridiculous idea of trying to save someone who didn't need nor want her saving tasted like bile in her mouth. Paula was right. This was a stupid idea.

She took one last glance at the untouched can of beer between them and stood straight. "I'm gonna go. It was nice catching up with you."

"Simon told me you were asking about Jean."

That halted her. "What else did he say?"

"Nothing much. You know how Simon is," he laughed, shaking his head. "He's as dense as... you know what? I don't even know what can be denser than him. But I figured you wouldn't be here if it isn't important." He took another swig, watched her frown at him from the corner of his blue eyes and smirked. "You're too prideful for something as shallow as a pool party."

She dropped her gaze. "I'm here to check up on Jean. That's all."

"Is it because of Wes?"

The reason why everyone loved Ollie was because of his careless, devil-may-care, go-getter attitude. He was fun to be around, he didn't mind. But what most people didn't know about the swimmer, was that he was one of the most observant people she knew. That was why he was funny, that was why he got along easily with everyone. It was because he could see beneath the surface—he knew the right buttons to press.

It used to amuse her how he'd often use his charm to disarm the people around him or the information he gathered from observing to get in good graces. He did easily, without making it obvious; the malice hidden by the sweet smirks and laughing eyes. But right now as she stood in the middle of his scrutiny, she felt naked.

"I can help you," he said when she didn't respond. "Jean and I hang around each other and I don't want anything bad to happen to her as well."

"Why would you do that?"

"I just said my reasons, haven't I?"

She shook her head. "You can just ask me to leave and then, take charge yourself. Why do you want to cooperate with me when you can do this on your own?"

His lips stretched into its signature grin. Wide, lopsided and easy. "But where's the fun in that, Brie?"