Finding Olivia

Chapter Five

Friday night, I reluctantly let Avery dress me for my 'date' with Trace. I was starting to think I was her personal Barbie doll or something. She let me wear my jeans but paired it with one of her sweaters. Calling it a sweater was kind of pointless though; it was so lightweight it would do nothing to protect me from the cold. It was orange with a pink heart on the front and one on each sleeve. It was cute, but not suitable for the weather. I was going to end up a Popsicle by the time the night was over.

"Sit down," she ordered, pushing me into her rolly chair.

"Can't you ask me nicely?" I grumbled as she pulled on my hair.

"I wasn't asking," She chuckled, braiding the front pieces of my wavy hair before gathering it into a side bun.

Thankfully, I had already done my makeup before she came storming into our dorm room, like a woman on a mission.

"You're good to go," she gave the chair a nudge. "Oh, wait! Don't forget these!" She tossed the deathtrap bootie heels at me, the ones I wore when I fell on top of Trace.

"I'll fall," I grumbled, purposely leaving out the part where I'd be falling again. I hadn't told Avery that I fell on top of Trace. She'd find it hysterical and then claim that it was a sign from the sex gods that I was meant to 'fuck' Trace.

"No, you won't. Don't be a baby," she grabbed her phone off the desk.

I mumbled something unintelligible, sitting down at my own desk chair, to put the shoes on and ditch my Converse's.

Avery looked me up and down before nodding her consent. "Those shoes make any outfit look ten times hotter."

She was definitely right, but I'd never tell her that.

"Get out of here, you're already late," she scolded.

"Oh, crap," I looked at the clock on the small nightstand next to my bed.

"I'll see you later," I told her, heading for the door.

"Stay out all night, I don't care," she laughed and I turned in time to catch her wink.

Rolling my eyes, I left.

I held onto the stair railing like it was my life support as I made my way downstairs.

Outside, I spotted Trace's familiar black car.

I took a deep breath before heading his way.

He eased out of the car and rested his crossed arms over the hood. "Hey," he grinned, "I thought we could walk to the park but with those," he eyed my shoes, "my guess is you're going to say, no way."

"You've got that right," I replied.

"I've got it," Trace grinned, coming around the front of the car to open the passenger door before I could get there.

"Thanks," I smiled up at him as I lowered myself into the car.

"No problem," he mumbled, closing the door.

He slid inside, the car rumbling to life with a roar.

He exited the campus, turning right, and then right again, at the stoplight.

He drove the short distance, turning into the park's entrance, and then into the parking lot.

"I hope you're hungry," he commented, reaching into the back of the car for a large paper bag.

"Starving," I inhaled the scent of pasta, wafting from the top of the bag.

"Good," he slid from the car, bag in hand, "because I made enough to feed your entire dorm."