She lets out a deep breath. "I'll do it."
"You sure? Cause I can do it if you want."
"No, I'll do it," she insists with a reassuring smile. "I got to start practicing sometime."
I return her smile. "M'lady," I state, carefully offering her the blade.
She grips the scalpel securely in her hand just as Tracy starts giving instructions. With immaculate focus and precision, Olivia begins cutting. She slices slow and steady, doing just as Tracy instructs. When she's finished, she sits up straight, breathing out a sigh of relief and admiring her work.
"Great job, Finch," I praise. "Now the worst part is over."
Tracy makes laps around the room, observing and helping groups when needed. She lends most of her help to Adrianna's table, her and her friends too repulsed to even touch the rat. "Very good job," she compliments over Olivia's shoulder as she stops by our table to observe our work. "Good," she tosses out a quick approval to Delilah, who did the cutting, and rat boy.
For the next hour, we poke around inside the rats, identifying different organs and learning their functions. Not exactly how I'd like to spend my time with Olivia, but I have to admit, I can't wait for our unofficial lunch date—even though my appetite isn't what it normally is, after digging around in a rat for nearly an hour.
"Don't forget, you will be quizzed over what we learned today next week! So remember to study, and if you guys need any help there is open lab on Tuesdays and Thursdays where you can stop by and ask me questions, as well as study," Tracy yells out before dismissing the class.
As we peel off our gloves and gather up our things, I begin to ask Olivia, "Ready for lun—"
"Hey," Delilah says loudly, suddenly cutting me off. "We'll catch you later, Liv." She shrugs on her backpack, walking away slowly and looking expectantly at rat boy, seemingly waiting for him to follow. "Have fun at your lunch meeting with Mrs. Cooper," she says, and she shoots me a look I can't quite decipher. "Let's go, Quinton," she says, guiding him out of the room.
"You have a meeting with Mrs. Cooper?" I ask when they walk out, suddenly feeling disappointed.
She lets out a nervous laugh, freeing her long hair from her ponytail. "No, not exactly. I'm still game for having lunch together if you are. I do have to drop some papers off in Mrs. Cooper's mailbox though first, if you don't mind."
"Not at all." I extend my arm towards the door, gesturing for her to lead the way.
We walk down the hallway to the main office together, and Olivia ducks in to slip some papers into a mail slot for Mrs. Copper, politely sharing friendly greetings with the secretary.
"Ready?" I ask once she exits.
"Ready."
We walk across campus to one of the many dining halls. I decide not to take her to the one I usually go to with my teammates, afraid they'll give me too much shit about having lunch with a girl and scare her off.
"So," I start, unable to hold back my curiosity, hooking my thumbs beneath the straps of my backpack as we walk. "What was that whole situation about?"
"What situation?" Olivia asks, doing that cute thing where she pinches her brows together and slightly tilts her head to the side in confusion.
"The one at the end of lab. Delilah was acting weird, and then she said you had a meeting with Mrs. Cooper. Why did she think that?" I ask, not in an accusatory way, but casually. I know Delilah knew about our lunch plans, since she was right there when I made them with Olivia. So it doesn't make since why she would think Olivia had other plans, or why Olivia would tell her otherwise.
Olivia flushes and cringes in embarrassment. "She didn't... It was her idea to say that I had a lunch meeting with Mrs. Cooper instead, actually."
"Alright, I'm going to need you to explain."
"Well," Olivia drawls, looking pensive. She exhales, her lips vibrating together. "I guess you could say Delilah and I sort of made up a plan to act like I had a meeting with Mrs. Cooper."
Now it's my turn to pinch my brows together in confusion. "I'm still not following."
She sighs, her shoulder slumping as she looks guilt-ridden. "We both kind of lied so I could have lunch with you. Alone."
"Oh." It's starting to make sense.
Olivia groans, hiding her face behind her hands in a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "I'm sorry. I was just afraid if Quinton knew... he'd probably want to tag along, and I don't know. I just had a feeling it wouldn't be as pleasant if it wasn't just the two of us, because I know he can be a bit... unpleasant sometimes."
I huff out a laugh. "I've caught on."
She shoots me an apologetic look, and I hold open the door to the cafeteria for her, the cool air-conditioning welcoming us as we step inside.
We both grab some food and pay, sitting at a vacant table with our trays.
"So, is—" I blank, almost slipping up and calling rat boy by his nickname. I scramble to think of his real name. "Quinton. Is Quinton your boyfriend?" I ask, unable to bite back my further curiosity.
I can only assume there's no romantic relationship between them, but I have to ask. The question has been gnawing at me since the other day. She doesn't seem to be interested in him—at least not as interested as he is in her. But who knows, she could be attracted to him. Some girls tend to like that whole pale as hell, dying, creepy, vampire look.
Olivia chokes on a sip of her water, quickly pulling the bottle away from her lips and capping it. She clears her throat before answering. "No. No, definitely not."
Relief floods my chest. "Was he ever your boyfriend?"
"No, never." She shakes her head. "He, Delilah, and I all met freshman year. Initially, we were all assigned as lab partners in one of our science classes, and then with our degrees being the same, we had all the same classes throughout the years. Naturally, we grew close and became friends. But Quinton... Quinton's a very closed off person. He never really makes the effort to make new friends. I think Dee and I are the only friends he has here," she says, her voice softening with pity.
I nod. "He's got it bad for you, though," I state the obvious.
She lets out a groan, looking at me with agony. "That's what Delilah says."
"But you don't have feelings for him?" I confirm.
She bows her head in shame, shaking it.
"Does he know that?"
"Yeah, I told him once a long time ago that I didn't have feelings for him. He took it... hard," she confesses. "I just feel so bad. I didn't want to be mean to him or embarrass him further, so I told him we could still be friends. But I'm scared I'm leading him on by still being friends."
I shake my head, reaching over the table to place my hand on top of hers, my heart aching for her. She looks wrecked over it. "You have nothing to be guilty about. You should never feel bad for not reciprocating someone else's feelings. You were honest with him, and that's what matters. No one can fault you for being honest. Especially when you were nice to him about it. If he's the one struggling with just being friends, then it's his job to walk. He shouldn't stick around, hoping you'll change your mind when it's clearly made up."
She looks up at me, a look of appreciation in her eyes, but I can still detect the sadness that lingers behind them over the sore subject.
We sit in silence for a moment, my hand still resting on top of hers for comfort. I catch her gaze slid down to our hands, mine following. A form of intimacy hums between us, even in the middle of a bustling cafeteria.
"Do you have feelings for anyone?" I ask, hoping she might insinuate she has mutual feelings for me... or that she has a boyfriend. Hopefully it's not the latter.
Her brows pinch and her head tilts to the side. "What do you mean?"
"Do you have a boyfriend?" I ask, suddenly dying to know the answer.
She shakes her head, a small blush blooming across her cheeks. "No."
A silence floats between us, and I brush the pad of my thumb over the back of her fingers.
"Do you have feelings... for me?" I ask, suddenly feeling confident after our little moment. She may not have felt it as strongly as I did, but I know she at least feels something—whatever it is—undeniably flowing between us.
Her warm brown eyes snap up to mine, her cheeks burning red. She bites the inside of her cheek, deliberating, slowly pulling her hand from mine and sitting up straight. "I don't know if that's an appropriate question for me to answer when your girlfriend is a few feet away," she says, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, looking over my shoulder.
My face contorts in confusion. "Girlfriend?"
What the hell is she talking about?
Following her gaze, I look over my shoulder to find Adrianna sitting a few tables away, her piercing green eyes shooting daggers.
I let out groan, laughing after, frustrated. "She is definitely not my girlfriend," I say.
Olivia looks at me skeptically.
I let out a sigh, deciphering how I gently break down my relationship with Adrianna to Olivia without me sounding like a complete asshole and sleazebag.
"Adrianna is like my Quinton," I decide. "She likes me and wants me to be her boyfriend, but she knows I can't make that type of commitment with her."
Olivia's eyes soften in understanding and she nods, looking a bit embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed with how..." she trails off, unsure of how to describe Adrianna's multiple bold, possessive actions towards me. "Comfortable she is with you."
"No, I understand how you might have misunderstood. Adrianna can be a bit... unpleasant sometimes, too," I say, quoting her earlier statement, when she was describing rat boy.
Olivia lets out a small laugh, some brightness coming back to her eyes, and any lingering tension dissipates.
We carry on with our lunch, conversation flowing easily and naturally. When I'm finished with my tray, I push it aside and she lends me her notes to copy what I missed from lecture the other day, as promised. Afterwards, we walk to English together, going over some new poems Mrs. Hobb's assigned.