Forever and Always, Olive Novel –
“I was wondering if you’d like to go to homecoming with me,” I ask Maddox, the school popular guy.
My evil cousin and her friends forced me to do that.
Now they are snickering and laughing with their hands over their mouths.
“Okay,” he says in his semi-familiar deep voice.
“Well, I tried,” I mutter before I suddenly went rigid. “Wait, what did you say?”
“I said okay,” he repeats as if annoyed.
“O… Okay…?”
The guy who turned down every girl at school?
After I accidentally spilled my lunch all over him?
“Wear red, it’s your color.” he responds.
Great, my cousin’s gonna end me in my sleep tonight.
“You must be Olivia,” the blonde in front of me speaks in a bored manner, brushing a strand of wavy, blonde hair over her shoulder. I nod, trying to ignore the fact that she’s nearly a foot taller than me. She’s definitely grown up quite a bit since the last time I’ve seen her, given that was almost nine years ago. I’m sure I grew as well…a couple of inches at the most.
“You must be Vivica,” I smile at my cousin. She doesn’t exactly smile back; instead she shifts her cheer-leading bag on her shoulder and looks at her mother. Rude. “Chelsea and Tracy are coming over at five. Can we order a pizza?” she inquires as she traces her long, manicured nail. Her mother nods. “Yeah, can Olivia hang out with you guys?” my aunt asks and I immediately feel my face go red. I spent the time Vivica wasn’t home preparing for when she arrived. I got a drink and a snack just so I wouldn’t have to engage in conversation with my stuck-up cousin. Now my aunt’s just throwing me into the fire.
“No, it’s fine! I can, uh, I can make my own friends,” I attempt to dismiss in an attempt to not make Vivica hate me anymore than she apparently already does. I have a feeling that I left quite the impression on my cousin all those years back. Vivica glares at her mother with narrowed eyes. When my parents told me that I was going to be coming here for the rest of my junior year, I tried to keep an open mind. However, the day before I was dropped off, my mom decided to let me know what exactly I was going to face.
She warned me about my cousin’s personality and her “impoliteness,” as my mother called it. Basically, my mom said that she was spoiled and ungrateful. Well, she didn’t exactly say the words, but she said something along those lines. A few years back, when I was around eight years old, I had to come and stay with Aunt Genevieve, Uncle Thomas, and Vivica during the summer. Vivica, however, went to a day camp; I remember her yanking me aside and demanding that I stay out of her room.
I also remember hitting her and telling her not to touch me. And then I remember my father coming back to get me a few hours later, even though I had been there for only a week. “No, Vivica won’t mind, right, dear?” Aunt Genevieve asks, looking at her daughter with the pointed expression that I know too well. My mother has the same one,
probably because the two are sisters. Honestly, I don’t want to hang out with Vivica and her friends. But I also remember my mother telling me to treat my aunt well and to not take advantage of her kindness, seeing as her daughter already does. “Of course not,” Vivica says with a flat expression. I feel awkward as I stand between the two with my gaze locked on my feet. I hear footsteps and a door closing quite aggressively.
Knowing that it was Vivica throwing a tantrum because of me, I hold back a sigh. My father won’t be coming to get me anytime soon. “I’m sorry, she’s just been having a bad week,” my aunt excuses, trying to rack her brain for a potential reason as to why her daughter has been experiencing a bad few days. “She, uh, failed her French test.”