If I didn't know any better, I'd think that Olivia was intentionally staying home just to avoid me, but that couldn't be true. The first reason being that Olivia had actually wanted to tell me her secret (or whatever it was) and the second that past experiences with her mother showed me that the story about her not being allowed to use her phone wasn't all that far-fetched. She was... strict in a weird way.
And just when I had decided to go visit her—the curiosity absolutely killing me—she was already back at school.
How convenient!
Floyd didn't think the same way. Once he noticed her standing by her locker, he immediately stomped up to her and started talking to her with wild, anxious and angry gestures. I stared at them for only a short moment, before simply turning back around and walking over to my other friends.
I didn't think they'd be very nice to me if I interrupted them now. Floyd seemed genuinely upset and I had no idea in what kind of mood Olivia was today. For all I knew, she was a grumpy bitch after being sick. She wasn't sick often, so I really wouldn't know.
Soon, I found Dylan and Rafael on their way to the classrooms and I tapped Dylan's shoulder and murmured, "Olivia's back."
"Ah, let me guess, Floyd cornered her?"
"What is even going on with Floyd?" Rafael asked. "I swear, he suddenly turned into a completely different person."
"I'd tell you if I knew, Raffe," I sighed.
"If you really wanna know what Olivia was going to tell you, Hugo," said Dylan, "I'd make sure she has a better reason to do that than keep it secret for Floyd, because you know he can be quite persuasive if he wants to be."
"Well, I think it's only fair she tells me after fucking blackmailing us," I grumble, kicking a paper ball on the ground away from me.
Rafael and I made our way into our History classroom, while Dylan walked to wherever he had his next class, and I was immediately thrown off by being stared at by Mr. Rosenberg. I was pretty sure he had something to tell me. With a gaze this intent, there was no question about it. And was that fear in his eyes?
What the hell was it with this guy?
He proceeded to give the messiest class he'd ever given, thoughts all over the place, messing up all the facts, switching names of students. He even sat down on his glasses, breaking one of the lenses. When the bell finally rang, he instantly slammed his book closed, hastily told everyone that his class was over—not even thinking of giving us any homework, which he normally always did—and squeaked, "Mr. Bridges, can I have a word?"
He was lucky I was in the front row.
When I'd closed the door, he groaned, "Hugo, help."
"What is it now?"
"Her mother found out."
I took some time to process this information.
"Oh." I frowned and sucked in some air. "Yeah, that's not good. At least, I'm assuming it's not good, since you seem very upset."
"She started screaming at me in French!"
"That's pretty normal."
"Hugo, this is not funny! Olivia was not even allowed to come to school because I'm here. I don't think her mother likes me very much!"
"Oh, so she wasn't sick?"
"No, of course she wasn't sick! Well, she was, at first, but this happened after that." He sighed, starting to pace around the room with a hand on his forehead.
"So she found out a few days ago? What happened exactly?"
"We went to town and I was supposed to bring her home before her mother was there, but it was too late already."
"But then how did she find out you're a teacher?"
"When she asked who I was, Olivia made up a lie that I was... I don't even know. A friendly teacher that started tutoring her, or something? But her mother had seen us kissing outside."
I frowned at the window with a sigh. Not a very smart thing to say, Olivia... Always so clever and cunning, but inevitably, even the great Olivia could mess up sometimes.
"What time is it?" My history teacher angrily tossed his useless glasses to the back of the classroom. "I can't see shit."
"My class started four minutes ago."
"Oh, shit. I guess I'll give you a pass. Sorry for keeping you from your classes. I needed someone to rant to and you're the only one that knows about it." He ran his hands down his face. "Pfft, look at me pouring me heart out to a student. Sorry."
"I don't mind you keeping me from my classes."
He gave me a disapproving look and started writing my late pass, before handing it to me with a crooked smile. "I hope your teacher can read it."
"Thank you, sir— Uh, I mean, Fred. Hey, uh... you know, maybe you should take the rest of the day off. Your classes aren't exactly... up to their usual standard." I glanced at the miserable, broken glasses on the floor. He'd be messing up even more names without them.
"I already stayed home for too long," he said. "I'll just have to get myself together and pull through."
"Okay." If he thought that was best, who was I to tell him otherwise? I was only a high school student anyway. I made a move towards the classroom door.
"Wait, Hugo, I have one more question."
I stopped.
"Will Olivia's mother... tell anyone? Will she get me in trouble?"
I sighed again and slowly turned around. "No, I don't think she will. She might seem like a scary lady, but... she's actually really sweet. If she hasn't told anyone already, she won't."
He let out a shaky, relieved breath. "Okay, that's good."
"If you don't mind me asking, F-Fred... Do you think it's a good idea to keep seeing Olivia?"
"It is definitely not a good idea."
I nodded. I could clearly hear the 'but', even if he hadn't said it. He knew it was stupid and doomed to fail, but he didn't want to stop seeing her and I could perfectly understand what that felt like.
"You're a sensible young man, Hugo," he said suddenly.
"Not really," I huffed. I was just a scared, little pansy, always afraid of the consequences of everything I did or said.
Even now, ever since Dylan had brought it up, the idea of 'polyamory' was dangerously swimming through my head, and if there was even a tiny chance at making it happen, I knew I would never have the guts to actually do it. I knew I wouldn't be able to deal with how appalled everyone would be, if they found out.
What better way to avoid judgment than to refrain from giving people something to judge?
"Thanks anyway," said Fred.
I opened the door to his classroom, murmuring, "No problem."
When I finally saw Olivia in our lunch break, I could see that she was on the verge of bursting into tears, though I gotta admit she was hiding it very well. I set my food on the table, took the seat beside her and wrapped my arms around her frail body. I knew she needed a hug.
And that's when the floodgates opened.
Everyone else at our table stared in shock—Olivia never cried, not even when she'd physically hurt herself—and I had to shake my head at them to keep them from questioning it. It would be better for them not to. We couldn't tell anyone. Not about this.
And I knew she'd be mad at herself for crying in the middle of the cafeteria later, but right now, she needed someone's comfort and I was the only one that knew, so I stroked her hair and let her wet my clothes with her tears, and she held onto me for dear life.
"Come home with me after school, okay?" I whispered to her.
Dylan or Floyd or anyone else that wanted my attention could fuck off, because this was more important than anything else right now. I really wanted to help her with this, but I couldn't do anything unless Olivia told me the whole story. She could tell me a lot more about her mother than what Fred had told me.
And she did.
It was clear that Mrs. Archambault was... severely conflicted. She didn't know what to do about Olivia being in a relationship with a teacher. She obviously wanted to be a good mother for her daughter, but she didn't know which side she should be taking in a matter like this. I couldn't really blame her. I was feeling the exact same.
"She knows that I love him," Olivia said. "She knows that he loves me. But she also knows very well that it is illegal for a teacher to have a relationship with a student."
So she had interrogated her daughter for days. She probably didn't even sleep. All her time was spent thinking about this. She was mad at Olivia, but she couldn't help wanting to help her. She'd made very clear that she should be happy her father wasn't home. If he hadn't been away on this business trip, he wouldn't have hesitated to drag Fred to the police and then come straight back to take away any privileges Olivia had and make sure she knew very well not to do anything like this ever again.
No, her mother was not the scary one.
Eventually, she was allowed to go back to school, as long as she didn't have contact with Fred, but she was not allowed to use her phone or the TV or anything else until Mrs. Archambault knew what to do. So I let Olivia borrow my phone to talk with Fred and to tell her mother that she was with me—this involved a lot of persuasion—and she promised that she'd be back home in an hour.
"Olivia, I'm so sorry you're in this situation," I said after she hung up.
"No, it's my own fault," she sighed, angrily rubbing at her tired, red eyes. "It was stupid of me to start a relationship with him. I knew that if I started, I would never be able to turn back, but I still did it."
"He's a mess, you know?"
"I know. He said he broke his glasses."
"He sat on them."
She shook her head with a chuckle. "He looks better without them anyway."
I laughed. "He does."
She sighed and glanced at my clock. "Well, we have only a short while left, so let's just talk about something else now. Oh, wait—I remember, I was going to tell you something."
For a second, I didn't even know what she was talking about, completely having forgotten about anything but Olivia's currently messy life, but then it all came back to me. The thing I'd hate and love. The secret that Floyd told me not to believe.
I snapped my head around in shock.
"Floyd got mad, wo-hoa! He doesn't want me to tell you."
"I know," he said. "He begged me not to listen to you."
"If he was afraid of me telling you, he should not have told me in the first place," she said matter-of-factly. "But alas, it was me he ran into and spilled his problems to in the mall."
"I don't know, Olivia," I hesitated. "He seemed really upset. Maybe you shouldn't just tell his secrets like that."
"Listen, Hugo. This is something that you should know and the only reason he isn't telling you himself is because he's embarrassed about it. He should have said this a long time ago."
Now the curiosity was getting too much. I just had to know, even if I felt bad about going behind his back. No matter how regretful I was feeling already, I nodded. "Tell me."
"Okay, well, Floyd has..." She paused for dramatic effect, a grin stretching from ear to ear. "A crush on you—" My eyes widened. "—and on Dylan! Is that not truly astounding!"
I fell off the bed.
I really did. I had such a weird, spastic convulsion that I slid off the bed and fell on the ground. Then, after I landed, as much as it hurt, I just continued rolling and slammed my hands on the floor.
"What are you doing?!" Olivia screamed
I only groaned in response. Olivia threw her body on top of mine to stop me from spazzing out on the floor and shouted, "Hugo!"
"You're pulling a prank on me right now, right?!"
"No, I'm not."
I'm pretty sure I started hyperventilating.
"Whoa, I thought you would be surprised—maybe even happy—but not that you would go crazy!"
I screeched. "You have no idea how fucked up this is!"
"How is—"
With a bang, my bedroom door got thrown open. Eve appeared in the doorway with a scowl, and I stopped to stare at her. "What the fuck are you doing?" she growled.
"I think Hugo just went ballistic," replied Olivia.
"Why this time?"
"Hey!" I called out, pushing Olivia off me. "Go away, Eve. I'm having an existential crisis."
"Have your existential crisis silently," she warned, squinting and pointing her finger at me, before quickly retreating.
"No, but seriously, Hugo," Olivia said as she helped pull me off the floor, back onto the bed. "Why are you freaking out so much?"
"Okay, don't judge."
"Do you see me judging?"
"And don't tell anyone," I continued.
"For not telling anyone about Fred, I think you deserve it."
"Well..." I took a deep breath. "There might, perhaps, possibly, be a chance that maybe, Dylan and I talked about... both wanting to be with... Floyd. Like, together. Like a..."
"Ménage à trois," she finished.
I nodded, biting my lip in embarrassment.
"That's hot."
"Oh my God, Olivia," I groaned. "Don't say stuff like that."
"Would you rather I say 'ew'?"
"No, but..."
"Are you going to ask Floyd?"
"No!" I scoffed immediately.
"Pourquoi pas?!" she exclaimed. "I mean, why not?"
"Because people don't date two people at the same time, Olivia! It's not acceptable."
"I don't see a problem with it," she said, shrugging.
"I doubt Floyd even meant that when he told you he likes us."
It felt weird to say that. Again, Olivia just shrugged.
"I'll see what I'll do, I guess..."
In any case, Dylan should know.