Olivia's Curse

Chapter Fourteen

The three of us walked inside together, with Liam splitting off to buy the tickets as he ushered me and Ryan into the snack queue. It seemed he hadn't quite given up on his joke: that he thought Ryan fancied me.

When we were alone, Ryan surprised me by pressing his hand into the small of my back. Unconsciously, I leaned into his touch.

"Are you okay?" he said lowly, without looking in my direction.

Attempting to ignore the effect his touch had on my heart rate, I smiled. "Yeah, thanks."

I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye, and he withdrew his hand. The skin there froze over without his touch.

We reached the front of the snack queue. Ryan followed my lead and ordered nachos. When my eyes flickered toward him in surprise, he smirked and told me: "I thought I should see what all the fuss is about."

Clearly his touch had drugged me, because I laughed at one of his jokes.

My laughter evaporated as we entered the cinema screen and encountered the next trial in my extremely testing day.

Surprised filled me when I saw Daniella and her cronies sat in the screen ready to watch a film, given that her father was across town giving a speech. She examined her nails with disinterest, sat between her two closest friends Prue and Elise as they waited for the film to start.

"I heard you made a surprise appearance at the ceremony today," Daniella said. "It's nice to see you making an effort with the town's traditions."

"It looks like you didn't," I replied without skipping a beat.

Daniella picked at her nails as she spoke. "Those occasions bore me. Daddy gets so many awards that I'm starting to lose count."

I chose not to respond. I wanted to ask her about the church last night. Had she done what I thought she had? But I knew that even if she was the one responsible, she wouldn't be stupid enough to admit it.

"I heard about the church," she called out suddenly. "I can't believe someone would do that."

Her words carried through the air, away from her smirk and toward my disbelieving ears.

I paused in my steps and heard the boys mirror my actions. "Excuse me?" My voice lowered into a dangerous growl, but my tone didn't deter her.

"Well, it's just awful, isn't it? I know religion isn't everyone's cup of tea, but to desecrate a church like that..." Daniella lips curved around her words lovingly, as if she enjoyed saying them, and I almost lost my cool.

I made to stalk towards her, but barely took two steps before someone grabbed my arm and pulled me back. Surprisingly, it was Ryan that came between me and my nemesis, and I felt my treacherous body soothe at his touch.

"She's not worth it," he whispered. "You don't even know for sure that she did it."

I shook him off but heeded his advice. Instead of marching up to her and causing a scene, I turned my back and continued the journey to our seats. The boys sat either side of me as if they had mutually decided to block me in. I couldn't help but smile at the thought.

The film started shortly after the encounter, and every so often a piece of popcorn struck my head from behind. Daniella and her friends chucked kernels toward me, trying to get a reaction. Although I was seething silently, I repeated Ryan's words in my head to calm me down.

She's not worth it. She's not worth it. She's not worth it.

It was Halloween, so we were watching a weird indie-horror film, and every time a zombie jumped out at a character, Liam would vault from his seat and grab my hand. He hated horror films, and he only suggested the movie because he knew how much I loved them as an attempt to cheer me up, at great expense to himself. As sweet as the gesture was, I struggled to concentrate on the film. Liam sat on my left side—the same side as my injured arm—and I worried that the next time a zombie tore into someone's flesh, he would accidentally feel the bandages through my jumper.

My worries came to pass.

A zombie ran across the screen, launched itself at an unsuspecting character, then sunk its teeth into their succulent neck. When Liam screamed and grasped my arm tightly, I hissed at the pain, and he turned to look at me. His eyes widened.

"Olivia," he whispered. Ryan turned to face us, embarrassed that we were talking during the movie. "Why is your sleeve wet?"

It was worse than I imagined—the blood pouring from my arm must have saturated the gauze.

"Um," I floundered for a reply. "I don't know. I'll go to the bathroom and check."

Not giving Liam time to respond, I leapt to my feet and grabbed my bag, running from the room. He didn't call after me; Liam's general awkwardness prevented him from angering someone inside the cinema screen by shouting.

I rushed to the bathroom and locked myself inside one of the cubicles. Uncaring that I was in public, I ripped my jumper and long-sleeved top from my body to assess the damage. The entire bandage glowed a haunting shade of red. My stomach churned and lurched into my chest.

"Crap," I muttered to myself. Instantly, I berated myself for speaking in case it drew attention to myself.

"Is everything okay in there Dear?" I heard a lady ask from by the sinks.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Thanks!"

I waited in silence for her to leave, and when I finally heard the bathroom door open and close, I let out a deep, shuddering breath.

Searching for the spare bandages I packed earlier, I tore into my bag. My fingers brushed against ragged material, and I clutched the gauze in my hands. My shoulders sagged in relief.

I tried to ignore the searing pain in my arm as I ripped the gauze from the seeping wound. I gagged when the beginnings of the scab were revealed and forced myself to replace the bandage. I barely held in my scream when the pressure forced the scab to break.

Finally, I was done, but I wasn't quite ready to go back inside. I sat there, on the toilet, for a good few minutes before I heard the bathroom door open and close again.