Finding Olivia

Chapter 24

School started back up which meant Avery and I were back in the dorms. The Callahan's promised that my mom wasn't a bother and could stay as long as she needed. In fact, Resa and my mom, had grown quite close, and Resa was helping her to find a job. Nick, thankfully, had to go back to Virginia Tech, so I didn't have to worry about him hitting on my mom anymore.

I didn't tell my mom, but I still worried that Aaron might show up. He was a bully...but a wimp at the same time, so he probably wouldn't, but I also knew, he wasn't the kind of person you should underestimate. He had nothing to lose, while we had everything.

I guess I was of the mentality that all good things must come to an end.

I hoped that wasn't the case, but...

"Where are we going?" I asked Trace, holding tightly to his hand, as we ran down the sidewalk of the old walking mall. I forced my worried thoughts from my mind. I needed to have fun. My braid thumped against my shoulder and snow flurried around us. The late January weather in Virginia was unpredictable. Some days were warmer, with temperatures in the fifties. While other days, like today, were cold enough for snow.

"I promise, it has nothing to do with your list," he called over his shoulder, dragging me along.

I released his hand and stopped in my tracks. He turned around and jogged towards me.

"What are you looking at?" He tilted his head as he looked at me.

I pointed to the store window, where there was a red shirt displayed that said, I Love Ketchup. "I'm buying that for you," I declared, heading straight into the store, not caring if he followed.

Trace grumbled about us being late, but I didn't care. I grabbed the shirt and paid for it. Under normal circumstances, I would've taken the time to look around, but since Trace was on a time constraint to get...wherever it was he needed to be, I didn't.

"Put it on," I handed him the bag.

"Olivia," he groaned, looking around the store at the people browsing.

"Trace," I eyed him sternly. "You're always pushing me out of my comfort zone. Put. On. The. Shirt."

A challenge ignited in his green eyes.

"Fine," he grinned cockily. He removed his jacket and long-sleeved plaid shirt. Then, with a giant smirk, he pulled his black V-neck t-shirt over his head. "Hi," he waved at the teenage girl working the cash register. The poor girl's mouth was hanging open as she stared at Trace. Someone needed to get a mop, because the amount of drool she was producing could cause someone to slip.

Trace took the bag from me and pulled out the bright red shirt. He ripped the tag off, and pulled the shirt on, tugging it down so that it covered his tightly sculpted abs.

"Happy now?" He asked, turning so I could assess the shirt.

"Ecstatic," I smiled, putting the shirts he'd been wearing before, into the bag.

He grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on. "Now that you've had your fun, we really have to go."

"Red's a good color on you," I laughed as we walked out of the store.

"Every color is a good color on me," he chuckled. "Especially, when said shirt," he plucked at the garment, "reflects my never-ending love of ketchup."

I shook my head, laughing under my breath at him.

"Ah, here we are," Trace held the door to a coffee shop open for me. The sign hanging above the door was in the shape of a coffee cup and declared the place as Griffin's.