Under the Bridge

chapter sixty one-"shot in HD"

L I A M

SHE LOOKS LIKE A GHOST, her frail figure a wisp compared to the usual flush of life all over her face. A renaissance painting. No makeup, hair long and wild and everywhere. Skin clear save for the natural freckles. Eyes that twinkle under fluttering, golden lashes. I set a hand over hers on top of the table, lending a small smile her way. 

Olivia breaks eye contact immediately. "Sorry, about not being my best today." 

I draw a small circle on her hand with my thumb. "After what you've been through, I don't think you need to justify your emotions," I reply. 

She shifts in her seat, my crewneck moving with her. It's one of the nicer tops I own, regardless of how casual it is, it makes her look like she's pulling a fashion statement, not borrowing my clothes since she's temporarily ran away from home. It's light grey, with a picture of one of those Salvador Dali melting clocks on the back and the brand name on the front pocket. I remember when my sister convinced me to get it, saying it was street style or whatever. 

I think it looks better on my girlfriend, but then again, everything does. 

"What are you thinking about?" I ask, noticing that her face has become still, her focus has been directed elsewhere, as though she's drifted away. 

She brings her eyes back to mine, and I see storms in her grey-blue eyes. "I don't really know who I am anymore," she admits. 

I lean forward, squeezing her hand and watching her eyelashes flutter as her gaze moves back down to our palms. "Let's play questions. I ask you something, you ask me something. That way, we can both figure out who we are based on our answers." 

"Alright." 

I think about what I'm going to ask, and it hits me in a second. "If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?" 

She presses her lips together into a soft line vaguely reminiscent of a smile. "That's cliche." 

"So is our relationship, and here we are," I reply. 

Olivia thinks for a second, pressing her brows together and letting out a breath of air when she's come to her decision. "That beach where we ran off together. When the weather was nice and the stars were beautiful." 

I smile. "I can't look up at the sky without wondering which stars are missing because of the light pollution anymore. California was a nice reminder that they're still there, just hiding. Your question, beautiful." 

Another flicker of concentration crosses her expression. "If you got a record deal for your music, would you take it?" 

I pause. "Maybe, if it were the band and short term, it could kickstart everyone into success. If it were just me, then no. I don't think I could handle being a musician as a career. Too much travel and too many gimmicks." 

Olivia nods, as though she is analyzing my speech word for word, like she's writing an essay on it. I watch her think about my words, how her own answer would be, and I ponder my question. 

"What's the best class you ever took?" 

"Easy, Principles of Biomedical Science or AP Bio."