“Blankly staring at the screen.”

“Nothing new, huh?”

“Nope. I start writing a few pages, but then I go back and delete everything I wrote. I think I might be a one-hit wonder. It’s like all my creative juices just dried up. Or maybe I was never creative in the first place, and the one I wrote was just a fluke.”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way, Olive,” Char said as she started massaging her temples.

“Headache?”

“Yeah. I haven’t been feeling well ever since I opened my eyes.”

“You want me to cook some chicken soup for you?”

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks though. Do you have any idea of what you want to write, or you just can’t find the first words?”

“Oh, I’m finding the first words, alright, but I can’t get into the story and end up just tossing the whole thing.”

She looked at me with her bright blue eyes. “Then it isn’t the right story for you to write. You’ll know when it’s the right one.”

“I’m not so sure about that. My fingers are itching to write, but I have absolutely nothing. Nada.”

“Let me know if I can help you with anything. Plotting or otherwise.”

I put my laptop down on the floor and got up. “I’m going to make you tea.” I said over my shoulder. “Your voice is starting to crack.”

She groaned and reached for my laptop.

“Did Jason call about the photos yet?”

“Nope.” I filled the kettle with water and while waiting for it to boil, I opened the cupboard to choose from the teas we had. “Do you want herbal tea or just regular black tea?”

“I’ll have herbal tea, please.” She whistled softly. “You should see the comments on these photos.”

I looked up to see Char scrolling through the photos again. Taking down two mugs, I put the tea bags in them. “They’re talking shit?”

“No,” she replied, looking over her shoulder. “Actually they think you guys look adorable together. More than a few say you are his new girlfriend, a new actress or something.”

I snorted. “I’m adding honey to your tea and I don’t want to hear any complaints about it.” Char hated honey with a passion; whenever she got sick we had to practically force it down her throat. I reached for the boiling water and poured it in our mugs.

“Thanks, mother Olive.”

“You’re welcome, beautiful child of mine.” Grabbing the mugs, I walked back to the couch and handed her the herbal tea.

The laptop still on her lap, she extended her neck and sniffed at my tea. “What are you having? It smells better than mine.”

“Just black tea, Earl Grey.” Sitting next to her, I glanced at the screen.

“This one is my favorite,” said Char, scrolling down to another picture, the one where Jason’s hand was out of sight and under my shirt. “You both look lost in each other.”

“Well, we weren’t lost anywhere, I had weird hot smoothie spilled all over me and he was just making sure I was okay. I don’t know what kind of a creep took our photos, but they somehow managed to capture something that wasn’t even there. They are a good stalker, I’ll give them that.”

“I think I’m with Lucy on this one,” she admitted, and I sharply turned to look at her, almost spilling hot tea all over myself, again. “Ok, don’t kill me yet,” she said, lifting her hands as if to ward me off. “I just don’t think you could capture something like this if there was absolutely nothing there. I mean, it’s not like you are still in love with Marcus, right?”

“Of course not. And well, we already know that I’m still in love with Jason so both Lucy and you are seeing that.”

“Olive.” She closed the laptop and placed it next to her. “You probably don’t want to give yourself false hope, but…”

“But…? But, what?”

“Jason isn’t really looking at you as if you are just his best friend’s little sister. At least not in these photos.” She gestured toward the laptop. “Of course I have no idea how he is treating you when you guys are together.”

I waved her off and took a sip of my tea. “He is just—”

My phone starting ringing and Char lifted an eyebrow as I looked at her in panic.

“Where is your phone?” she asked.

“I don’t know, in my room?”

The phone kept ringing.

She tilted her head. “Well, aren’t you gonna get it?”

I shook my head vehemently. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

The damn phone stopped ringing and started back up again.

“It could be Dylan. I can’t deal with him right now. God knows what he’ll say. When we were kids, he didn’t like me running around Jason that much so he sure as hell won’t be happy about those photos if he sees them.”

“What if it’s Jason?” she asked.

That was even worse. “Well, if it’s him, what if he’s angry?”

“At you?” She frowned.

“Doesn’t matter at who.”

Thrusting her mug at me, she rose up. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Both mugs in my hand, I yelled after her. “Char, don’t look! I don’t want to know. Please.”

“Too late,” she said. Keeping her eyes on me, she leaned against the door frame and answered my phone.

“Hi, Jason. No, I’m Olive’s friend, Charlotte.”

Making a sad face at her, I shook my head and whispered, “I’m not here. Out! Out! I’m gone. Say I vanished.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. Yes, she is right here. Of course. Take care of yourself.”

I groaned loudly.

She dropped the phone next to me and grabbed her mug from my hand.

“I’m gonna go and try to sleep this headache off. Thanks for the tea. Talk to you later.”

“Traitor,” I announced. “The minute you trust someone, they turn into a traitor. All of you people are traitors!”

She closed her door without a second glance.

Sighing, I steeled myself and reached for my phone.

“Hello?”

“Who is the traitor?” Jason asked in an amused tone.

“All my friends,” I replied tiredly. I closed my eyes, letting my heart do its own thing and flutter at the sound of his soft yet still rumbly voice.

He chuckled. “How are you doing, Olive?”

“Still breathing, so that’s something.”

“You weren’t that drunk yesterday. Still got a hangover?”

“No, no, I’m fine. It’s nothing, really. I’m just having trouble writing.”

“Hmmm. Did you see the photos? Is that why you can’t write?”

I thought about pretending I had no idea what he was talking about, but in the end, I didn’t think I could wing it.

“Yeah, Lucy showed them to me this morning,” I admitted.

“Are you angry at me?”

I frowned and took a sip of my tea. “Why would I be angry at you?”

“For the things they wrote in the article, and well, getting photographed with me. It’s become a part of my life so I’m used to not having any privacy, but you didn’t ask to be plastered all over the internet. Did you talk to your parents? Did they see them?”

“Yeah, no. I’m hoping they won’t come across them. And if they do…well, it was nothing after all, right? I’m sure they already know that. It’s not like we are having a secret relationship like they are saying.”

“Right.”

Drawing my legs up, I rested the mug on my knee. “And, hey, at least they said I was beautiful in the article. That has to be good for my ego, right?” I laughed awkwardly. After all, it had felt good to be called beautiful, especially when standing next to Jason.

“Of course you are beautiful, Olive. You don’t need to hear it from the tabloids to believe that.”

I pretty much melted and became one with the couch.

“Thank you,” I mumbled when I could form words. “Are you angry at me?” I asked when there was a gap of silence.

“Angry at you? Why the hell would I be angry at you?”

“I don’t know.” I leaned forward and put the mug on the small coffee table. “After all that other…stuff that came out, maybe you didn’t want to be seen with…hell, I don’t know.” Silently, I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand…and then hit it again.

“No, sweetheart, I’m not angry at you.”