A gentle jostling woke Olive. Bright streetlights burned her eyes. She turned over, forgetting where she was until the seat belt shoulder strap slashed her neck. Stella had taken off her sweater and was now wearing only a thin V-neck T-shirt.
The corners of Stella’s mouth flicked upward. “You were really tired.”
“Did I—”
“Snore? Only a little. The car isn’t the most ideal place to sleep before a race. You didn’t even stir when I stopped. You sleep like the dead.”
“You stopped?”
“There was a grocery store near the gas station. I googled the best foods to eat before a race, and the running website said peanut butter and a banana, so I got that. And a few water bottles since prehydration is important. It’s been a long time since I’ve run a long race like this. We made good time. No traffic. The banana and peanut butter sandwich stuff are in the back seat because I didn’t know if you had food allergies, and honestly, the last thing I wanted to do was to watch another allergic reaction. I can pull over in a parking lot for you to eat a snack outside the rental.” She pointed to the window.
“Wait, wait. You watched what happened? How?” Olive ran her hand through her hair. Her teeth and mouth felt and tasted gross after sleeping so long. “There are cameras in the back of the plane?”
“No … but you don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“I assumed that was part of what you were upset about?” Stella kept her eyes firmly fixed on the road.
“Upset about … when?”
“At the airport.”
Olive angled her body toward Stella. The seat belt suddenly felt like it was strangling her. “I was upset about missing the race. What else would I be upset about?”
“Oh, well…” Stella’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles blanching. “You went viral.”
“I went—what?”
“Going viral, like the video of you is being shared by—”
“I know what going viral means. Shit. Shit.” She grabbed the phone from where it had been charging. As soon as it was on and unlocked, alert messages exploded on the screen.
Was it you?
Saw you on the news?!
Where are you?
Gosh, you and your brother.
Most of the messages were from cousins and friends at the hospital. Nothing from her parents or Heather at a glance. Of course not.
Olive had forty voice mails, which meant her inbox was probably full. Her Instagram notifications had exploded. She closed it without scanning any of the DMs or messages. Thousands of new followers.
Palpitations skipped in her chest.
She swiped to text messages and scanned over the ones from her best friend, Derek. There was also a voice mail from Jake’s hospital that had probably come in during the flight. Shit. She’d have to call them back later. Olive swore several more times and then squeezed her eyes shut, knuckles digging into her forehead as she leaned her weight onto her knees.
“Are you okay?”
“Going viral … my brother had it happen a little while ago. It…” Olive wasn’t sure how to verbalize what had happened right now without letting the entire story spill out. Without turning—once again—into a tears and snot faucet. How many times were you allowed to fall apart in front of someone you’d just met without transitioning from “just had a traumatic experience” and into the “weird and dramatic, give her a fake number and flee” category?
YOU ARE READING
Fly with Me: a novel by Andie Burke
Romance(Books you want to read but don't want to buy) A sparkling and steamy Sapphic romance, Fly with Me by Andie Burke is filled with sharp banter and that sweet, swooping feeling of finding "the one" when and where you least expect it. A one-way ticket...
