Chapter Eight

 

Chapter Eight

            Both Jillian and Sophie decided that for the dance they would go all out. With dark eye makeup, plumped lips, short skirts, and tight fitting shirts, they made their way to the boardwalk. Jack and Oliver were already there, waiting by a vending machine. As Sophie studied Oliver, she couldn't help noticing how handsome he looked, how much more toned he had become, and thought maybe . . . just for tonight . . ."

            She stopped short when a tall dark haired girl appeared seemingly out of nowhere and attached herself to him.

            "What's wrong?" Jillian asked, eager to keep walking and get to Jack.

            "Who's that girl?" Sophie asked.

            "I don't know," she replied. "But who cares? Come on." She pulled Sophie along until at last they were standing before them.

            "Wow," Jack said, eyeing Jillian's cleavage. "You look, um, nice."

            She smiled, her cheeks reddening. "Thanks."

            Sophie remained stubbornly silent as she surreptitiously eyed the beautiful girl in front of her, with dark curls that went down her back, big brown eyes, and deeply tanned skin.

            "Oh," Oliver said. "This is Gabrielle – Jack's cousin."

            "Hi," the girl said, but turned to Oliver before Sophie could reply. "C'mon, Cutie – let's dance cutie."

            "You don't mind, do you?" Oliver couldn't help asking Sophie.

            "Of course not," she lied. "Have fun."

            And as the foursome headed out onto the floor to dance, it occurred to Sophie that her birthday this year absolutely sucked.

            Randomly throughout the evening, Jillian found her and tried diligently to persuade her to dance with them. Though each time Sophie politely declines, insisting that they go on and have fun. The truth was, she would've loved to dance. If that gypsy girl wasn't all over Oliver.

            At half past ten, Sophie decided to go down to the beach where she could dip her feet into the warm ocean. As she walked down, however, she heard a rustling sound under the boardwalk. She looked around and when she saw nothing, she continued on down. Then, when she heard it yet again, followed by a very quiet, almost inaudible moan, she decided to investigate further.

            What she finally saw, however, the source of the noise, was something couldn't have even imagined in her worst nightmare.

            Little gypsy girl herself was kneeling in front of Oliver – her­ Oliver – with her tube top down along with his pants. Sophie couldn't even get any words out of her mouth in response to this scene before her. It was only when she turned to go and involuntarily kicked a soda can that he heard her.

            Oliver's eyes, closed in pure bliss, opened and widened in horror when he saw her. "Sophie –!" He cried, but she was already running. And to add insult to emotional injury, Gabrielle hadn't even stopped for a breath of air.

            At the beach house, no one was home. Which as, for once, good for Sophie, because the last thing she wanted was for anyone to see her crying like she was. She hurried up to Jillian's room and changed into her pajamas. Then she went into the bathroom and furiously scrubbed the makeup off her face. She didn't want to think about what she'd just witnessed, but the image kept replaying itself over and over in her head. And countless questions remained.

            Why was the gypsy girl doing that to him?

            And why was she so jealous?

            Why didn't Oliver come after her, as he'd always been prone to doing?

            And why did she care so much?

            She wiped her face dry with a towel and tossed it across the bathroom before stomping back into the bedroom and flinging herself down on the bed.

            She lay there for a long time, her face buried in a pillow, waiting for sleep to come. But it didn't. Not even at eleven thirty, when she heard all of the adults arrive and go to bed. And not at midnight, when Jillian finally got home.

            Sophie raised her head from the pillow, ready to seek comfort on her best friend, but froze when she was Jillian's blood shot eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.

            "Jilly, what's wrong?" She asked.

            Jillian collapsed next to her on the bed. "Jack is not the kind of boy I thought he was," she replied, staring up at the ceiling.

            "Why – what happened?"

            "Ugh – I'm so embarrassed!" Jillian cried, covering her face with her hands. "I'm so stupid!"

            Sophie patiently removed her hands, her own troubles forgotten now for a friend in obvious need.

            Jillian looked at her. "We were just dancing," she said. "It was nothing. Then he started getting really . . . physical. Kissing me and stuff. That wasn't really a problem. I mean, I like kissing him. But then he wanted to go somewhere more private and, being an idiot, I went along with him. We snuck into one of the boats and that's when . . . he really started to get like physical with me."

            "What happened next?" Sophie pressed.

            Jillian sighed. "We started kissing again and then he was trying to take my shirt off. When I told him no, he tried going up my skirt. I pushed his hands away but he wouldn't stop, so I slapped him." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I thought he was going to hit me he looked so angry so I got up and ran. Thank God he didn't chase me, but he yelled all sorts of disgusting things."

            Sophie rubbed her back. "I'm sorry," she said, sympathetically.

            Jillian laughed bitterly. "He's such a jerk. He thinks calling me a s**t and a b***h is going to effect me. I hate him now – nothing he says can hurt me. Do you know, he called me a cocktease? Ugh, what a –."

            "Piece of s**t?" Sophie finished with a smile.

            Jillian laughed. "Exactly." Then, for the fist time, she noticed her friend's own sad eyes. "Hey – what happened to you?" She asked.

            "Oh – just Ollie. And the piece of s**t's cousin."

            Jillian smirked. "No wonder they're from the same family – they're both scum bags."

            Sophie smiled. "Yeah they deserve each other."

            "The way Jack was, I'm not so sure he'd object to that."

            They both laughed as they brought the comforter up over them.

            "I'm so glad you're here," Sophie said. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

            "I know what you mean. If you weren't around, I'd be crying all alone."

            "I just don't understand him," Sophie muttered. "Why does he have to be such a – such a –."

            "Boy?" Jillian suggested helpfully.

            "Yes. And why does he have to be so confusing? I thought he was so in love with me."

            "But you said you didn't feel the same way," Jillian pointed out.

            Sophie groaned, covering her face with a pillow. "I don't know what I feel anymore."

            "You know that when you do figure it all out, and if you feel the same way, Oliver will forget about all the other girls in the world."

            Sophie looked at her. "You think so?"

            "I know so."

            Sometime during the night, Sophie woke and found that she couldn't fall back asleep. She glanced at the clock – 3:45 am. She thought about the conversation she'd had with Jillian, as well as her feelings for Oliver, and knew that she had to do something. She didn't know for sure if she really loved him like he loved her, but she wasn't going to let some tramp come and take her place in his heart.

            Quietly, as not to wake Jillian, she got out of bed and went down the hall to Oliver's room. She opened the door slowly, stepped in, and closed it behind her. He was sleeping on top of his blankets, in nothing but his boxer shorts, his hands clasped firmly behind his head.

            Sophie thought of Jack's cousin, with her exotic beauty, her grown up body, and apparent knowledge of what boys really wanted. Namely, Oliver. She smiled at his sleeping form, the room illuminated well by the full moon outside. He was undoubtedly very good looking and the truth was, she was tired of saying no to his perfect face.

            She slowly climbed on top of him, careful not to wake him. Then she lowered her head and began kissing his neck. When he didn't stir, her lips continued along his cheek, over his face.

            His eyes remained closed, but on instinct, almost as if in a sleep-like trance, Oliver's hands came up and gripped Sophie's hips. Their lips found each other and soon they were both kissing with an urgency neither had experienced before. She was straddling him, rubbing against his body, and loving every minute of exciting him. This was so new to her – suddenly she was in control, and she liked it.

            And then a moan escaped her lips. It wasn't very loud or particularly graphic, but it was enough to bring Oliver back to reality. His eyes popped open and when he saw Sophie he practically threw her off of him.

            From the floor, she glared up at him.

            He switched on the bedside lamp. "What're you doing?" He admonished.

            She smirked at the bulge in his shorts. "Nothing you don't want."

            He pulled up his blanket. "You know what I mean, Sophie. What are you doing in my room . . . kissing me . . .?"

            "What's the problem?" She asked, standing up. "You didn't seem to mind it when that trashy girl was all over you at the dance."

            He rubbed his eyes. "Can we just talk about this tomorrow? It's late and I'm tired."

            "No," she said, slowly getting angry as it dawned on her that he was actually rejecting her. "We can't talk about this tomorrow."

            "What do you want me to say?" Oliver demanded. "How many times have I tried to tell you how I feel? And how many times have you pushed me away?"

            She looked down at her feet. She knew he was right, but why did he have to bring it all up and throw it in her face like that?

            "I'm here now," she pointed out lamely.

            "You don't have to act like this to get me to notice you," he sighed. "Gabrielle . . . she's just a girl. She means nothing to me. But you and me . . ." He trailed off. "You're so much more important to me and you know I'd be happy just holding you."

            "Why don't you just grow up, Oliver?" She said angrily. She knew he was saying all of the right things. She knew that to be held by him would more than likely be so much nicer than connecting with him sexually. But for reasons unknown to her, she just wanted to get closer to him by way of sexual excitement. After all, isn't that what normal people did?

            "You don't mean that," Oliver said. "I know you're not mad at me. You're just embarrassed and that's okay."

            "Oh just forget it!" She snapped her face hot with humility. This wasn't at all how she'd pictured this scene to play out.

            "Come on," he pleaded. "Don't be like this. Don't be so angry with me."

            "I'm not." She forced a smile. "This was just . . . it was silly. And stupid. Let's just forget all about it."

            "But we don't have to. You know how I feel about you, Sophie. Why should we forget about any of this?"

            "Because," she replied, "it doesn't even mean anything." Yes, it did. "And I don't even want a boyfriend." Oh, yes she did. "This was just kissing. Nothing more." Wasn't it?

            He ran his hands through his hair, never taking his eyes off of her. She was lying, he could tell. He knew her better than she thought. But then why was she denying it?

            "I'm sorry," she said with the same phony smile. "You should be able to be with other girls and not have me act like this afterwards."

            "But I don't want other girls" he insisted. "I just want –."

            "We're friends," she interrupted. "And I'm done confusing you." And she meant it. She didn't know what she wanted exactly but there was no use in dragging poor Oliver along her roller coaster of emotions.

            He was quiet for a few moments, looking around the room as he gathered his thoughts. Then his eyes met hers. "So you won't be mad if I see other girls?" He asked. "And things won't change or be weird between us?"

            She shook her head. "We'll be fine, Ollie. But can we just forget about tonight?"

            He nodded and she forced another smile as she stepped out into the hall. She couldn't believe what had just happened and she hated herself for behaving that way. Why did she have to be so stupid? And why did it seem that now her birthday was a cursed date? And why couldn't she just love Oliver?

            She made her way back to Jillian's room feeling mortified and sadder than ever. She would never, it seemed, feel anything real for anybody.