26 Buried Feelings
Olivia：POV
Victoria's message burned on my screen. I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the keyboard, before finally typing: [We're not together. And he doesn't like me that way.]
I set my phone down on the nightstand and took another sip of wine, trying to convince myself I'd responded casually enough. But my phone immediately lit up again with an incoming call—Victoria's name flashing on the screen.
"That was fast," I muttered, answering with a sigh. "Yes?"
"How can you possibly say he doesn't like you?" Victoria demanded without preamble. "I've been a bartender for years, Olivia. I know what attraction looks like, and that man has it bad for you."
"You're imagining things," I said, pulling my robe tighter around myself. "We grew up together. That's all."
"Oh please," she scoffed. "The way he looks at you? The heroic rescue at the stables today? I'm not buying the 'just friends' act."
I walked to my bedroom window, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. "He would've done that for anyone. Blake's always been... protective."
"Right," Victoria drawled. "And I suppose the way he practically devoured you with his eyes all afternoon was just friendly concern?"
"Can we please change the subject?" I groaned, feeling heat creep up my neck.
"Fine. Let's talk about you, then." Her voice took on that teasing tone that always made me nervous. "Are you seriously telling me you've never had feelings for him? Not even a tiny crush? Because he's objectively hot, Liv. Good body, nice face, seems decent enough. I refuse to believe you've never thought about it."
I hesitated a moment too long.
"Ha! I knew it!" Victoria crowed triumphantly. "Spill. Now."
"God, you're insufferable," I muttered, but found myself smiling despite my embarrassment. "Fine. Maybe there was a moment. Once. A long time ago."
"I'm listening," Victoria said, and I could practically hear her leaning forward.
I sank down onto my bed, memories washing over me. "It was sophomore year of middle school. There was this group of girls who absolutely hated me because I beat out their ringleader for class president."
"Classic school drama," Victoria commented.
"They started spreading these awful rumors about me," I continued, the old hurt bubbling up. "Saying I cheated on tests, that I bought votes for the election. Then they took it further—someone broke into my locker and planted cheat sheets for our upcoming finals."
"Bitches," Victoria muttered.
"Yeah. And the worst part was, they timed it perfectly. The teacher was doing random locker checks that day. If I'd been caught with those papers..."
I trailed off, remembering the sick feeling in my stomach when I'd opened my locker that day.
"What happened?" Victoria prompted.
"Blake happened. He was at his locker right next to mine when I found the cheat sheets. I must have looked terrified because he immediately asked what was wrong. When I showed him, he took the papers and ripped them up, then told me to go to class while he handled it."
I smiled at the memory. "He confronted Melissa Jenkins—the ringleader—right in the middle of the hallway. Told her he knew she'd planted the papers and that he had proof. Which was a complete bluff, but she totally bought it."
"Bold move," Victoria said appreciatively.
"When Melissa tried to deny it, Blake was so convincing that she actually started crying and begging him not to tell anyone. He'd risked getting in serious trouble himself to protect me."
"Wait, so he put himself on the line for you? That's some knight in shining armor shit right there."
I felt my cheeks warm. "I know. When he told me later what he'd done... the way he looked at me, like it had been the easiest decision in the world. No one had ever stood up for me like that before."
"And that's when you fell for him," Victoria concluded softly.
"Yeah," I admitted quietly. "Hard."
"So what happened? You obviously didn't act on it."
My stomach twisted with the old pain. "Sophia happened. You know, the girl Blake defended from those other bullies?"
"After Blake stood up for her too, she started hanging around us more. We became friends, the three of us. But then one day, she pulled me aside with this huge smile on her face."
I could still picture Sophia's excited expression. "She told me Blake had confessed his feelings for her. She was practically glowing, asking for my advice on whether she should say yes when he asked her out."
"Oh, Liv..." Victoria's voice was gentle.
"So whatever I'd started feeling, I buried it. Deep. I smiled and told her she should go for it, that they'd be perfect together." I swallowed hard. "I convinced myself I'd imagined the connection between Blake and me. That I'd misread everything."
Victoria was quiet for a moment. "You know... you might have gotten it wrong."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I wasn't there, so I don't know exactly what happened. But based on how that man looks at you now, I'd say you misread the situation back then."
I frowned. "Misread how? Sophia literally said Blake confessed to her."
"People say a lot of things, Olivia," Victoria said carefully. "Especially insecure teenagers with crushes. Maybe Sophia saw how Blake looked at you and decided to... intervene."
The possibility hit me like a punch to the gut. "You think she lied?"
"I think teenage girls can be ruthless when they want something. And I think you should trust what you see with your own eyes now, not what someone told you a decade ago."
After we hung up, I couldn't stop thinking about Victoria's words. Had Sophia manipulated the situation? I tried to recall Blake's behavior around that time, but the memories were clouded by years of telling myself I'd imagined his interest.
What wasn't unclear was how Blake had been acting lately. The intensity in his eyes at dinner. The way he'd caught me when I fell from the horse. His question that still echoed in my mind: "Do you think friends can become lovers, Olivia?"
I crawled into bed, my heart racing with possibility and old fears. As I drifted off to sleep, one thought kept circling: What if I'd been wrong about everything?
Then I had a dream. The dream felt startlingly real.