Someday Maybe (15 page)

“I was talking to the hostess,” Meghan continued. “She said their baked flan is major killer.” She elbowed Ryan. “No caffeine or trans fat, slugger.” She fluttered her fake seventies eyelashes at him. “Rad, scoot over here so we can share. Come on.”

Our entire table began chattering about dessert. I glanced at Oliver, he glanced back at me. What were we supposed to do now? To break the tension, I grimaced at him, showing my bottom teeth. “You like flan,” I whispered.

He chuckled under his breath and put a fist over the exposed side of his mouth to shield it from the rest of the table. “You know I hate it, Rachel. You also know I prefer the taste of Fruity Pebbles over everything.”

He pushed back from the table and took the spot next to Meghan. It might’ve been exactly like the Chinese restaurant after he’d helped me with my allergy attack and then left me without a word or even a look. But this time, every few seconds, I could feel Oliver’s eyes on me. And every time I met his gaze, he smiled.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Meghan?” My voice sounds like it is underwater. “I can’t see you, are you all right?” The clinging mist surrounding me begins to lift. I am back at the stone wall that I’ve yet to scale, though this time, I am finally atop. My breath catches when I see Meghan on the other side, lying on a rock, limbs contorted, not stirring. I spring from the wall. My legs cannot move me fast enough through the tall grass. “Wake up!” I’m screaming but afraid to touch her blue, bloodless face. “Meghan, please. Please don’t!”

“Don’t
what
?” The living and breathing Meghan hissed from the other bed. “You’re dreaming again, Rachel. Roll over and go back to sleep before Sarah gags you like we’ve been plotting for the last half hour.”

“It’s okay, Rach,” Sarah’s soft and sleepy voice lilted over. “Nightmare.”

“I know.” I listened to each bang of my heart as I stared at the ceiling until the sun shone through the hotel blinds.

“Here comes—”

Nick was about to say
yellow
, but he was cut off when a guy stepped from the sidelines of the designated running path and tossed a bucket of yellow-dyed cornstarch in his face.

“Bah-ha-ha.” I snorted, having to slow my jogging pace so I could double over. Blue, pink, green, and purple powder fell out of my hair like rainbow dust. We had one more kilometer to go and my once-white tank top and shorts were well on their way to being a spectacular kaleidoscope of colors.

Oliver jogged up to my side. He wore mirrored sunglasses and was completely coated in color. As he was about to pass, a cloud of yellow exploded over his head.

“Ooh,
nailed
.” I laughed.

He turned to me and, noticing my conspicuously-yellow-free ensemble, hooked an arm around my waist and swung me toward the sideline, directly in front of a guy with a full bucket of yellow.

I squealed, ready to block my face, but the whole idea of this 5K was to end the race without a speck of skin or clothing showing white. So I lifted my chin, extended my arms, and pranced through the cloud of yellow like it was a finish line.

Oliver’s arm stayed around me, so I both heard and felt him break into laughter. “There’s the good sport I know.”

I snorted a laugh, inhaling a nose full of cornstarch.

“You all right?”

“Do I have anything on my face?” I rotated inside his arm.

He brushed my cheek with his free hand.” Maybe one spot right here.”

At some point, we’d stopped jogging, and were face-to-face, with me held to his chest. It didn’t feel like my feet were touching the ground.

“You’re falling behind, yo.” Ryan trotted in place at our side.

“Dude, for the last time, there’s no falling behind,” Oliver replied. “This isn’t a timed race.” He still didn’t release his grip on me, even when we started to run again. If I could’ve seen behind his mirrored shades, I was sure I would’ve caught an expression of defiance.

Now was not the time to have our little talk, however, so I forced myself to step out of his arms. He kept a hand on my elbow for a second, then dropped it.

“How’s the new business going?” Ryan asked him, taking the spot between us.

“Good.” Oliver didn’t even sound winded. “Coming together, slowly.”

I thought Oliver worked for a big software company. “What new business?” I asked, trying to jog around Ryan. I couldn’t see Oliver’s eyes, and then I couldn’t see him at all when a huge group of women in pink tutus trotted between us singing “Breaking Up is Hard to Do” in four-part harmony.

“What’s he talking about?” I asked Ryan.

“He’s quitting his job.”

My footing stumbled. “What? Why?”

“So he can branch out on his own with this software idea—website support.” He wiped his forehead with his sweatband. “I was helping him at the beginning, getting started with a business plan.” He chuckled under his breath. “If you can call it a plan. He was kind of all over the place, still nailing down projections, marketing, branding—simple things like product names. Starting a new tech business in this economy, though. Pretty risky, if you ask me.”

I searched for Oliver in the crowd beside me, in front of me, but he was nowhere. “Why would he leave his job if it’s such a risk?”

Ryan shrugged. “Guy never seems content with what’s he’s doing, always looking for something better or what’s next. I think he has like one investor, but that’s it.”

“Can you start a business with only one investor?”

“No way, not with what he says he wants to do.”

“Does he have any other capital?”

“Dunno. Not that I know of.”

“Well…” I knew I was badgering Ryan with questions, but I wanted to understand. “Why then…why is he doing this without a business plan or financial backing?”

Ryan shrugged again and panted; he looked winded. “Have to ask him.”

I jumped over a crack in the sidewalk. “Yeah,” I muttered, not liking the sound of any of this.

We had a bit of catching up to do to reach the rest of the group, which was difficult enough with my heart pounding like I’d already crested Lombard Street.

Why would Oliver leave his awesome job? Okay, so I didn’t know how awesome his job was, but it seemed stable and he was always busy, and being relied upon because you’re responsible and good at what you do was a kind of awesome. So why? Didn’t he know eighty percent of small businesses failed in the first year? Why would he knowingly do something without a plan for the future or a…

Oh. My pounding heart took a dive.

Oliver was still that nineteen-year-old who didn’t have a care in the world. Pick a major, or don’t; it doesn’t really matter. Go to this school, go to that school. Quit your job, start a company. Move in with Rachel, let her walk away.

I pumped my arms faster, fueled by betrayal I knew was irrational and unfair, but it was still there.

“Where’d ya go?” Nick asked as I was about to sprint right past him.

“Oh, uh, yellow.” I displayed the front of my tank top as explanation for my lagging behind, and not that I’d allowed Oliver to put his arm around me and laugh with me and touch my face. What was my problem? I normally wasn’t a glutton for punishment, so why was I hell-bent on making the same mistake of wanting a guy who wasn’t right for me? And my best friend was totally into him, and I was trying to get over him, and I had this amazing guy—right here, right now—interested in me. Just because Oliver and I’d had another
moment
at the restaurant last night didn’t mean I should screw everything up.

“Ah, yes, yellow.” Nick smiled and we jogged in silence until we caught up with the others. Our group made its way through the center of the shady street of downtown Pasadena, nearing the finish line.

“I’m covering the LA/Dallas game Saturday night,” Nick said to me. “Should be a good matchup.”

Meghan jogged a few feet ahead of me beside Oliver, her ponytail looking like something out of Rainbow Brite. I kept my eyes glued on her, still unable to shake last night’s dream, how real it had felt. But then I thought about what Ryan had told me, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from roaming Oliver’s way. I didn’t know what to make of it or of him. My legs were tired and my burning lungs were ready to burst and I couldn’t think straight about anything.

“Yeah, should be a good game,” I replied to Nick, picking up my pace so we were directly behind them. I wanted to grab Oliver by the elbow and demand answers. But I couldn’t think of even one question.

Nick kept talking. “You lived in Dallas for a while.”

“Yeah.”

“You went to many Mavericks games?”

“Sure.” Whenever Meghan laughed, she bumped her shoulder against Oliver’s. She swatted his arm a lot, too, and she was constantly grabbing him. Was she always so touchy?

“Aren’t you an NBA fan?”

“Sure.” Oliver hooked an arm around Meghan’s shoulder as they laughed.

“You should come with me.”

Now Megs had her arm around
him
. I inhaled sharply, extremely winded, glad the finish line was only a few yards ahead.

“Yeah. Maybe.” I stared at Meghan’s bouncing ponytail and wondered if it was always so springy and stupid.

Nice, Rach. Way to be a friend. Now stop thinking about him. Just stop.

“Hey, slow pokes.” Sarah met us at the other end of the finish line. I think it was Sarah—she was so covered in colored cornstarch that I couldn’t make out her features. “We finished before half the runners, so the party’s not for another twenty. Want to check out the water hazard over there?”

“Totes!” Meghan jumped up and down, clapping. She was still so full of energy, it made me want to take a nap.

“That’s not a water hazard.” I followed behind the rest of the group, working out the stitch in my side. My feet, and parts of my heart, felt like they were full of led. “It’s a fountain, part of the campus. We’re not supposed to be over here. See the barricades?”

“It’s
glorious.
” Meghan sprinted ahead of us. “Isn’t this the most gorgeous weather? If it rains tonight, all my wishes will come true.” The cement ledge of the fountain was knee-high and looked like a large reflecting pool. Meghan jumped onto the ledge, lifted up on one sneakered toe, and twirled around. “Just look at those lovely clouds!” Her chin lifted as she whirled in another ballerina-type spin. “Rad? Didn’t you tell me this is how the sky looks in Hong Kong right before it rains?”

“Something like that,” he said, though I could only see the back of his head.

The closer I got, the fountain looked more like an Olympic-sized swimming pool. The thing was huge. It probably wasn’t very deep, but Meghan definitely shouldn’t be doing a Britney Spears dance routine on the high ledge.

“Megs, be careful.”

“What?”

“Rachel?” Nick was at my elbow again. Or had he been there the whole time. “Were you listening?”

“No, I wasn’t.” I half-turned his way while still watching Meghan’s little dance. I couldn’t help envying her fearless inhibition.

“Rachel.” Nick took my arm and slowed my pace. “I said I think you should come with me.”

I blinked a few times and looked at him, really looked at him. “Sorry. Where?”

“Dallas.” His hand cupped my elbow and we slowed again. “The game’s Saturday and you’ll be back in San Francisco Sunday night.” He lifted a small, intriguing grin. “Come with me. Two days, just you.”

Before I could reply, Oliver stopped dead in his tracks and spun around. I couldn’t tell which of us he was focused on because of his sunglasses, but when he whipped them off, it was pretty clear he was looking at me.

Mostly so I wouldn’t run him over, I stopped walking, too, and so did Nick. Oliver stared at me, Nick stared at him. I didn’t know where I was supposed to look.

“Rad?” Meghan’s lilting voice swirled around us. “Rad? I said, do you dare me?”

“Seriously, Rachel?” Oliver’s words sounded like a growl. “You’d go with him to Dallas before you even
talk
to me?”

The nerve. I growled right back. “Are you quitting your job?”

He blinked and blue powder drifted from his lashes. “What?”

“Are you?”

“Hey…do you dare me, Rad?”

Oliver put his hands on his hips. “I don’t know yet, Rachel. Probably.”

“Yeah.” I scoffed. “You do that.”

“What does it matter—”

“Have you thought it through at all? Or is this another thing you’ll decide when you feel like it?” When he didn’t respond, I added, “And yes, I’m going to Dallas.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed but didn’t move from mine.

Until the splash.

Meghan was at the bottom of the fountain.

Sarah screamed, Oliver swore, and we raced toward the water where Meghan had sunk like a stone. A moment later there was a second splash as Ryan jumped in after her. He disappeared immediately over the high ledge. The water looked about three feet deep, but when he pulled her to the surface, Meghan’s eyes were closed and her forehead was bleeding.

“She’s not breathing,” he panted.

“Pull her out!” I shouted, images of last night’s dream shrieking through my mind. “Hurry!”

“Pull her out!” Oliver’s voice echoed mine.

“No stairs.” Ryan grunted to his feet, holding Meghan in his arms. The water was getting deeper. “Edge is too high.” Without another word, he sloshed his way toward the other side where the ledge dipped down.

Oliver was shouting to 911 through his cell while a crowd of helpless, rainbow-colored onlookers headed our way. The bridge to the other side seemed too great a distance, especially with my leg muscles shaky and spent. By then, the medical crew from the race sprinted toward the fountain. It was better to wait where we were.

“He’s giving her mouth-to-mouth,” Nick reported. “He used to be a lifeguard.” Sarah came up behind me, wedging herself between Nick and me. Oliver put a hand on my elbow, then his arm went around my shoulders.

After what seemed like a million years, I heard the most wonderful sound of gasping. “Is she okay?” I called across the fountain.

“She’s breathing,” Ryan called back. He leaned over Meghan again. “Now she’s swearing like a sailor.”

I covered my mouth with both hands, stifling my combination laugh/sob. Just as I felt I was about to break into hysterics, Oliver’s other arm pulled me to his chest, holding me so close I almost couldn’t breathe.

“It’s okay.” He ran one hand down my back, his other hand cupping my head. “She’s okay, Rach.”

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed as hard as I could.