Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (5 page)

I smiled goofily as I stuffed my phone into my pocket. I walked the rest of the way to class, with a slight skip in my step.

I fingered the worn piece of paper in my hands. I wrote it over a year ago, the edges were torn, and the once white paper had faded to yellow. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to rewrite it. Maybe it was childish, but it felt special, and I didn’t want to replace it. It was my ticket to freedom, if only I would stop being so shy, and
do
the things I had written down.

All the things on my Live List, as I called it, were things I had always wanted to do. But most of them, I couldn’t, because of my father. He had controlled every aspect of my life, and I let him, because I was scared of displeasing him. All I had ever wanted was to make him proud. By the time I started high school, I knew that nothing I ever did, would please him. He was always striving for perfection, from himself, from me, from everyone and everything. But perfection doesn’t exist, no matter how hard or how long we search for it.

So, why was I still looking for it?

I read over each item on my list like I did every night. It had become a sort of calming routine for me. By now, I didn’t have to look at the list to know what was on it, but I did anyway.

Get drunk

Fly in a hot air balloon

Go to the carnival

Go to a concert (even if it’s

someone I’ve never heard of)

Go to a party

Lose my virginity

Dance in the rain

Go roller skating

See the ocean

Learn to paint

Get a dog…or a cat…or a rabbit. Any pet will do.

Sing in front of real people. Avery doesn’t count.

Make more friends

Shoot a gun

Smoke

Get a tattoo

Learn to pole dance

Go skinny dipping

Pierce my belly button

Fall in love

I knew some of the stuff I had written down was silly, but I still wanted to
try
them. It was all about the experience and the chance to do something forbidden.

There were so many things I hadn’t been allowed to do and I felt like I had missed out on a ‘normal’ childhood.

I wanted, desperately, to do these things. But I was starting to believe it would never happen. A whole year had passed since I made my Live List and I had only done four things.

True, four was more than zero, but it seemed pretty pathetic to me, compared to all that was left to do.

I read over the items, yet again, nibbling on my bottom lip.

My
need,
to do these things, was growing restless.

Something inside me was saying it was now…or never.

The dorm room door opened and I hastily stuffed the piece of paper back into my pocket.

Avery dropped her backpack on the floor and promptly pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

I grabbed my textbook off my bed, and placed it in my lap, pretending to be doing my homework so Avery wouldn’t start questioning me about what I had been doing.

I had never explained my list to anyone, let alone
shown
them, but I was beginning to think differently. Avery was my best friend but I certainly didn’t plan on showing her. She’d try to cross everything off in one night.

“Have you heard from Trace?” She asked, sagging into her desk chair, dejectedly. I guessed she’d had a hard time in class.

“He texted me,” I shrugged, like it was no big deal.

“Annnnd?” She prompted, perking up.

“We’re having dinner Friday,” I answered.

“Aww, my little Livie is growing up,” Avery cooed, batting her eyes, “and finding herself a man.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I rolled my eyes.

“What? It’s about time you dated, I was starting to think you were a lesbian, and I should stop changing in front of you,” she smirked.

I tossed my pillow at her but she easily deflected it.

“Or
maybe
,” she laughed, “you’re finally shedding that good girl preacher’s daughter image. Let your inner woman out, girl!” She exclaimed. “Let her
roar!
” She clawed dramatically at the air.

I cupped my face in my palm. “Do you think
before
you speak?”

“Rarely,” she grinned. “What do you think you’ll wear for your date?”

“First off,” I held up a finger, “it’s not a date. Secondly, do you only think about clothes?”

“Oh, it’s a date. And no, sex comes before clothes,” she grinned.

“Ugh,” I groaned. “You act like a horny teenage boy.”

“And someone sounds jealous,” Avery twirled around in her pink swivel chair.

“Of the fact that you’re practically a horny teenage boy? Hardly,” I snorted.

“But seriously,” she whined, still twirling, “what are you going to wear?”

She finally came to a stop and swayed dizzily.

“Probably jeans and a sweatshirt,” I shrugged.

Avery made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “
No!
You can’t wear that!”

“We’ll be in the park and it’s cold out,” I shrugged.

“You still can’t wear that! A sweatshirt is completely unsuitable!” She gawked at me like I had grown three heads.

“I want to be comfortable,” I reasoned.

“You can be comfortable when you’re dead!” She squawked.

“Avery,” I rolled my eyes, “don’t be dramatic.”

“I am
not
being dramatic,” she spun in her chair again. “I’m just telling you what everyone with a vagina knows about the rules of dating,” she scoffed. “Everyone, except you, that is,” she added.

“Why does there have to be rules?” I groaned. “It’s stupid,” I complained, falling back on my bed, the textbook on my lap falling to the side.

“There are rules for the sake of our sanity,” Avery answered, striding across the room, and sitting on the end of my bed. I kicked at her with my feet, trying to dislodge her.

“I’m wearing a sweatshirt,” I mumbled, “whether you like it or not. I don’t want to be cold.”

“Olivia,” she whined, “that’s the point, you’re supposed to get cold, so he can offer you his coat.”

I sat up, staring her down. “What is this? The colonial age? I swear, what handbook are you reading this from?” I grumbled.

“The one that’s been around since the dawn of time,” she reasoned with a wave of her manicured hands.

“And that’s exactly why it needs to be thrown away,” I pointed out. “Women should be able to stand on their own and not depend on a guy. Let alone these stupid rules that are the so-called guide to dating. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Avery grinned. “I don’t need to depend on a guy. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I just like to take a ride on their fun stick every now and then.”

“
Avery!
” I blushed. “You did
not
just say that!”

“I did,” she smirked, smoothing a finger over her red lips. “I love how when I say dirty things your little virgin ears turn red.”

I reached up, grabbing my ears. “They do not!”

“Oh, they do,” she nodded, grinning. “Back to the important matter at hand, these rules are a means to getting laid. To a guy, a sweatshirt is like practically wearing a chastity belt, telling him that these goods are not for sale.”

“Oh my God,” I buried my face in my hands, my hair falling around me. “When did this turn into a mission for me to get laid? Besides, my
goods
are definitely not for sale.”

“Girl, you’re a sophomore in college, who’s still a virgin. This has always been a mission to get you some sex, some
great
sex, and Trace is just the guy to do it. I can tell. It’s in the way he walks.”

I let my hands drop. “I’m not a virgin.”

“What? I thought you-”

“Remember last year, at that party you dragged me to?” I asked.

Avery’s mouth formed a perfect O. “No! Olivia! Not that guy! He looked like an ape!”

“He was pretty hairy,” I snorted.

Avery shuddered. “There’s no way that was a pleasant experience.”

“It wasn’t,” I shrugged. “Is it supposed to be?”

She looked at me like I had completely gone off my rocker this time. “Yes! It’s supposed to be amazing!”

“It lasted like two minutes, how is that amazing?” I asked, avoiding Avery’s gaze by scrunching the bottom of my shirt in my hands.

Avery’s eyes threatened to bug out of her head. “Two minutes? That’s it?!”

“Well, yeah,” I shrugged.

“Oh, girl, you can do sooooo much better than that,” Avery chuckled. “So much better,” she reiterated.

“What did you mean by, it’s in the way he walks?” I asked.

“What?” She asked, looking down at her hot pink nails.

“You said that you could tell Trace would be good in bed, that it’s in the way he walks,” I repeated her earlier statement.

“Oh!” She exclaimed. “Some guys have this
walk
they do. They don’t even know they’re doing it. If my experience speaks for anything, every guy that I’ve been with, that has
the walk,
knows exactly what he’s doing.” She rolled her hips and licked her lips to further drive home her point. “Trust me, Olivia, Trace can show you a good time.”

I hid my face behind my hands again. “I think I’ve reached my sex talk quota for the day.”

“Whatever,” Avery hopped up from my bed, scampering to her side of the room, “you suck.”

I turned my attention back to the homework I really needed to finish, and forced myself to stop thinking about Trace’s walk, and wondering if Avery was right.

I no u said Friday but do you think we could do something sooner?

I gazed down at the text message from Trace, wondering what I should do.

I had some free time before my next class and planned to drive to Starbucks. So…did I go on my own, like I had planned? Or did I invite Trace?

Finally, I sighed, and replied.

I’m getting Starbucks. Meet me there?