One Night

The One Where I Pretend To Be Olivia Campbell

There are moments in life that define you, that shape you for the rest of your life. It's like that Gwyneth Paltrow movie, where her destiny is chosen by whether or not she gets on a train. If she gets on it, she arrives home on time, finds her boyfriend cheating on her, breaks up with him, finds a better guy and lives happily ever after. If she doesn't get on the train, she has to put up with her boyfriend's constant lies and cheating, eventually breaks up with him upon finding him at his mistress' house, and subsequently meets a better guy, where I guess they live happily ever after.

This is my dilemma.

To be Olivia Campbell, or not to be Olivia Campbell?

This moment, right here, right now, sitting before Elliott Anthony, this is my get on the train, or don't on the train moment.

If I'm not Olivia Campbell, I'm just me. The withdrawn shell of Peyton Ellis, who is still utterly heartbroken about her boyfriend walking away from her. The girl who's been a ghost for the better part of six months. The girl who will never let herself love, or be loved, by anyone else.

If I am Olivia Campbell, then who knows what, or who, I'll become? I could be anyone. I could be carefree. I could be happy. I could be the total opposite of what I am now.

Could I be Olivia Campbell?

I look up and see Elliott's green eyes burning into mine, waiting for my answer. His lips are drawn into an almost perfect line, his brows furrowed in concentration and his hands wrapped tightly around his coffee mug.

I've heard what people say about Elliott Anthony, and not all of it is good. He's a player, obviously that much I knew. Don't let the fact that he goes to a Catholic school fool you. Rumor has it that he has a different girl in his bed on a weekly basis and he's not the type to call you in the morning. He has a close knit group of friends that no one can get close to, and you'll never see Elliott talking to strangers. It's a miracle he gets girls, but I think with girls, the least amount of talking done, the better. They must like his strong silent character and all it really takes is one look from him and their panties automatically drop.

Yet, despite knowing that I could potentially just be another girl to have fallen under Elliott's charms, I still find myself nodding along to his question.

"Yes," my shaky voice comes out weak. "I am Olivia Campbell."

I kept my gaze on him. If I hadn't, I might have missed the way Elliott's lips tugged up slightly at the corners. His green eyes sparkled under the soft lighting where we sat, and he bobbed his head slowly while turning his attention back to his hot chocolate. He took a sip of the warm liquid, closed his eyes in appreciation, and then looked out the coffee shop window onto the street outside.

It was mid-December, only two weeks before Christmas, and there was a light dusting of snow covering the sidewalk. The streets around Easton had been cleared during the day, but as night fell, so did a new flurry of fine snow. Seasonal lights covered the many buildings, illuminating the otherwise darkened streets, and they twinkled in dancing movements.

From where I sat, I could see the large Fir tree that dominated the town square, the twinkling lights flashing like stars. An angel sat on her perch, gazing over Easton like a Guardian Angel, watching and waiting. There were several colorfully decorated boxes sitting under the tree, empty, naturally, but they symbolized a promise of what would come in just fourteen days' time. Children loved to crowd around the tree, whispering to each other what they had wished for for Christmas. Soon enough, the carol singers will be out in force, singing their melodic tunes.