Pieces of Olivia Read Free Page B

shrugged, faking indifference. “Whatever. We can go.”
    “Yay! This is going to be so much fun. Now, what to wear?” She paused in front of her open wardrobe, then said, “I’m going to take a shower. I think better in the shower.”
    I nodded, fighting the urge to laugh. Kara might be the only person in the world who needed to shower so she could think through her outfit.
    As soon as I heard the bathroom door click, I pulled out my laptop and logged into my Gmail account. I typed “T” and
[email protected]
auto-populated in the “To” field. I stared at the name. I had experienced so much here already, and though a part of me was having a great time, another part felt . . . guilty. I began to type, unsure of what to say.
    Dear Trisha,
    I will never forget our tour of Columbia. You had asked where I would go to college if I could choose anywhere, be anything. The question was so odd because there was bare honestly in it. On the surface, we were supposed to be leaving our parents for our own paths, but instead I was following my father’s and you your mother’s. I remember the seriousness in your eyes and knew that you had about as much interest in Columbia as I did.
    We walked in silence for several minutes and then out of the blue you said, “The College of Charleston. I’d go there.” I smiled at you because it was the very thing I was about to say. We both loved Charleston. Always had.
    I moved in today and I should have been ecstatic, but all I could think about was how I was here, doing what we dreamt of doing, without you. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.
    Love,
    Olive
    P.S. I know you won’t reply. I know. But I had to write. I miss you.

Chapter Four
    Nightfall at Liberty brought on a whole new world of noise. Most of the rooms were open, music blaring, and Kara insisted on stopping by every one of them.
    By the time we reached our across-the-hall neighbors, Kara had drank two beers and downed several shots. Her voice, which was already high-pitched, now sounded like she was intentionally trying to mimic a five-year-old.
    “I’m Olivia,” I said as they called for us to come in. They had already decorated the walls with various posters. Some of iconic cities, others of popular bands. It made Kara’s and my room look boring in comparison.
    “I’m Sarah,” a tall red-haired girl replied. She had the distinct look of a soccer player—tall with a strong build. “And that’s Rena.” She pointed to the dark-skinned girl grabbing Kara a shot.
    “You want one?” Rena asked. I shook my head. I wanted to tell Kara to slow down, but I barely knew her. I didn’t know her tolerance, and I didn’t want to come across as motherly.
    “We’re heading to a party in West Ashley,” Kara said. “Want to come?”
    Sarah’s eyes sparked with excitement. “Definitely! When are you leaving?”
    Kara glanced down at her bare wrist. “Oh. I’m not sure. Olivia?”
    I smiled. “Preston’s meeting us out front at ten-thirty.”
    Sarah turned around to look at the large metal wall clock they had hung between their two desks and shrieked. “That’s in twenty minutes! But we’re so there. Meet you at the elevators in fifteen?”
    She and Rena ushered us out of their room so they could get ready. Once back in ours, I grabbed a few bottles of water from our refrigerator and passed one over to Kara. “Here, drink. It’s going to be a thousand degrees at the party. You don’t want to get dehydrated.” I opened my own bottle, hoping she wouldn’t take the gesture as me trying to rein her in. She eyed the bottle and then me.
    “You sound like Preston.” She reluctantly took the water and drank half of it before setting it on her desk. I studied her face, her demeanor, her responses. She was already at a level two.
    Trisha and I used to assign levels to our drunkenness. Level one was a light buzz. You could still talk, walk, etc. Level two was a push toward sloppy. Your words were more