evaluating her puke potential.
“I just have seats reupholstered. Very expensive.” He wagged a finger. “You throw up, you pay.”
Olivia nodded and immediately felt dizzy from the effort. She let her head fall back against the seat and folded her arms over her face.
It had started as a bit of a slosh in her belly. And then the room had started to spin. She couldn’t remember exactly what she’d had to drink, after the first glass of wine at the officeparty, half of a beer, and the shots of something fruity she’d been offered on her way back from the bathroom, after…
Olivia cringed, a sudden flash of Soren’s lopsided smile onstage blurring in her mind’s eye. Then Calla falling into his lap as Graham counted backward from ten, her hands around Soren’s neck, leaning in for a midnight kiss.
A hollow feeling grew in the pit of her stomach, and Olivia fumbled for the window, opening it a crack. The crisp night air filtered in, drying the damp sweat on her forehead. As much as she’d hated it while she was there, she missed Willis, her old school and friends, the lame parties, the drunken jocks, the girls who were superficial and fake, fine, but at least they knew who she was.
Mostly, she missed Violet.
Olivia squeezed back hot tears too late, and a few escaped, falling heavily onto her dress.
This isn’t how it was supposed to be, she thought. Violet would never have let this happen. I want my sister. I want my sister. I want my sister.
“I just wish I had my sister back,” she whispered out loud, her hands over her eyes, pressing the tears against her wet cheeks.
It happened so fast that later on she’d wonder if she was hallucinating. But as soon as she’d opened her eyes, a strong, sturdy breeze whipped through the cracked window, carrying with it what looked, at first, like a lightning bug.
It swirled around the back of the cab, frantic and confused. Olivia quickly figured it was trying to get out, and reached across the seat to open the window. But instead of immediately flying through, the neon insect slowed the flapping of itswings, settling gently on Olivia’s knee before taking flight and disappearing back into the night sky.
The bug had only been still for a second, but it had been long enough for Olivia to realize it wasn’t a lightning bug at all. It was just as tiny, and just as bright, but its wings were wide and broad and swirled with silver and gold.
It was a butterfly.
7
O livia woke in the middle of the night with what felt like battery acid coating her mouth, gripped by a sudden, mind-numbing thirst.
Water.
She squinted one eye open, gathering up the strength to lift her heavy head from the pillow, and reached across to her bedside table. She fumbled for a glass of stale tap water and gulped it down, oblivious to the tiny particles of dust that had settled on the surface. Hauling herself onto her elbows, she gripped her head in her hands to lessen the intense pounding, which seemed to be reverberating all the way down to the ligaments in her ankles. Slowly, she opened her eyes, allowing them to drift to the floor, where a shadowy heap of dark material lay next to the foot of her bed.
The dress.
Olivia groaned out loud, the events of the night before rushing back like the incoming tide. Like it wasn’t bad enough she’d made a complete jerk of herself, wearing a ball gown toa toga party and stalking Soren by the bathroom, but she was hallucinating now, too? A fluorescent butterfly?
“Am I losing my mind?” she whispered out loud.
“Basically, but what else is new.” A crisp, mocking voice came from somewhere nearby.
Olivia whipped her head around, looking back toward the hulking headboard, then out through the gently blowing curtains.
“Hello?” she called quietly out into the darkness, feeling ridiculous.
Nothing.
“Awesome,” she muttered. “Now I’m hearing voices.”
“Oh, would you calm down?” the laughing voice ridiculed. “You may be crazy,
“I just have seats reupholstered. Very expensive.” He wagged a finger. “You throw up, you pay.”
Olivia nodded and immediately felt dizzy from the effort. She let her head fall back against the seat and folded her arms over her face.
It had started as a bit of a slosh in her belly. And then the room had started to spin. She couldn’t remember exactly what she’d had to drink, after the first glass of wine at the officeparty, half of a beer, and the shots of something fruity she’d been offered on her way back from the bathroom, after…
Olivia cringed, a sudden flash of Soren’s lopsided smile onstage blurring in her mind’s eye. Then Calla falling into his lap as Graham counted backward from ten, her hands around Soren’s neck, leaning in for a midnight kiss.
A hollow feeling grew in the pit of her stomach, and Olivia fumbled for the window, opening it a crack. The crisp night air filtered in, drying the damp sweat on her forehead. As much as she’d hated it while she was there, she missed Willis, her old school and friends, the lame parties, the drunken jocks, the girls who were superficial and fake, fine, but at least they knew who she was.
Mostly, she missed Violet.
Olivia squeezed back hot tears too late, and a few escaped, falling heavily onto her dress.
This isn’t how it was supposed to be, she thought. Violet would never have let this happen. I want my sister. I want my sister. I want my sister.
“I just wish I had my sister back,” she whispered out loud, her hands over her eyes, pressing the tears against her wet cheeks.
It happened so fast that later on she’d wonder if she was hallucinating. But as soon as she’d opened her eyes, a strong, sturdy breeze whipped through the cracked window, carrying with it what looked, at first, like a lightning bug.
It swirled around the back of the cab, frantic and confused. Olivia quickly figured it was trying to get out, and reached across the seat to open the window. But instead of immediately flying through, the neon insect slowed the flapping of itswings, settling gently on Olivia’s knee before taking flight and disappearing back into the night sky.
The bug had only been still for a second, but it had been long enough for Olivia to realize it wasn’t a lightning bug at all. It was just as tiny, and just as bright, but its wings were wide and broad and swirled with silver and gold.
It was a butterfly.
7
O livia woke in the middle of the night with what felt like battery acid coating her mouth, gripped by a sudden, mind-numbing thirst.
Water.
She squinted one eye open, gathering up the strength to lift her heavy head from the pillow, and reached across to her bedside table. She fumbled for a glass of stale tap water and gulped it down, oblivious to the tiny particles of dust that had settled on the surface. Hauling herself onto her elbows, she gripped her head in her hands to lessen the intense pounding, which seemed to be reverberating all the way down to the ligaments in her ankles. Slowly, she opened her eyes, allowing them to drift to the floor, where a shadowy heap of dark material lay next to the foot of her bed.
The dress.
Olivia groaned out loud, the events of the night before rushing back like the incoming tide. Like it wasn’t bad enough she’d made a complete jerk of herself, wearing a ball gown toa toga party and stalking Soren by the bathroom, but she was hallucinating now, too? A fluorescent butterfly?
“Am I losing my mind?” she whispered out loud.
“Basically, but what else is new.” A crisp, mocking voice came from somewhere nearby.
Olivia whipped her head around, looking back toward the hulking headboard, then out through the gently blowing curtains.
“Hello?” she called quietly out into the darkness, feeling ridiculous.
Nothing.
“Awesome,” she muttered. “Now I’m hearing voices.”
“Oh, would you calm down?” the laughing voice ridiculed. “You may be crazy,
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