act one, chapter eight. helpless.
charlie was going home. he was such a lovely guy, and he was a hamilton fan? who could ask for more. olive smiled at the thought, and climbed back up the stairs after bidding her mother goodnight.
"have a good time?"
tommy was sat on his window ledge. this was a common occurrence, and typically how they talked if they didn't want to text to actually go over to the other's house.
it had been a few weeks since the last time they did this.
"i did, thanks." olive said, oblivious to anything tommy was trying to hint at.
"i didn't think you were serious about dating charlie springsteen," tommy laughed, awkwardness dripping through his tone. "i mean, really? never thought he was your type."
you're my type, olive bit back the thought.
"well i didn't think you were serious about dating catherine kasey," olive parroted. "and charlie and i are not dating, for your information."
she climbed on the ledge of her window, the two now only about a few feet apart.
"well, catherine and i aren't dating either." tommy brought himself even closer, as if he couldn't hear her. he now sat on a thick tree branch between the houses.
they seem quite close - olive furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "you act like it."
"well we're not."
"do you want to be?"
"i don't know," tommy breathed shakily, it was cold out, but he had a red sweatshirt on. "do you want to be dating charlie springsteen?"
olive rolled her eyes and sat next to tommy on the branch. "why do you keep asking about him?"
"why do you keep asking about catherine?"
it was silent for a few minutes, until olive spoke once more. though neither of them truly knew if it was awkward silence or comfortable silence.
"i think i'm going to dye my hair," she said. "i don't like brown very much."
"i think it looks good on you."
"okay."
and another five minutes passed. the only sound were the kids the next block over playing sports outside, and the ticking of olive's watch.
tommy opened his mouth a few times as if he was going to say something, but shut it quickly.
"olive, do you like england more than america?"
the sound of her full name coming out of his mouth threw her off guard. "i don't remember america that much."
"you should visit one day."
"yeah."
a bird flew down next to where olive was sitting.
"i had a bird like this when i was younger. her name was crispy."
"what an interesting name for a bird," tommy laughed softly. "how old were you when you got her?" he asked, as if he hadn't known the girl next to him for the past seven years.
"i was eight."
and eight minutes passed before tommy spoke once more.
"olive, why do you like the song 'helpless' from hamilton so much?" tommy recalled it from their favorite musical. eliza sang it about hamilton when she was talking about their relationship.
"because it reminds me of you."
"why?"
"because i'm helpless,
"for you."
- olive !
me mentioning hamilton 600x
in this book is so funny because
uhhh yeah