Dangerous Boys
Page 17
I thought I saw a look of amusement on his face, then we all bent our heads again. ‘Dear Lord,’ Oliver began, ‘we thank you for the blessings we enjoy, for the food on this table, so lovingly prepared.’
I peeked out from under my eyelashes. He was staring straight at me, his blue eyes burning into mine.
I stared back, caught. ‘For family, and especially for new friends,’ Oliver continued, not breaking the gaze. ‘We thank you. Amen.’
Slowly, he winked.
I looked away quickly. The rest of them murmured ‘amen’, and then the moment was broken, and the bustle of cutlery on china and reaching hands quickly filled the strange space our gaze had just occupied.
What was that?
I shivered.
‘So what’s happening at Yale?’ Ethan asked, helping himself to pot roast and passing the plate on. ‘Do you have a break? I thought they worked you pretty hard.’
‘I quit.’ Oliver answered so calmly, it took a moment for the news to sink in. I watched Annette’s head jerk up in surprise, as Oliver held a dish across to me. ‘Potato?’ he offered with a smile.
‘What do you mean, you quit?’ Ethan asked. ‘Like, you just walked out?’
‘Pretty much.’ Oliver shrugged. He was still holding out the dish, so I took it, trying to ignore the look of panic passing between his parents.
‘But I don’t understand, sweetheart.’ Annette blinked at Oliver. ‘You’ve been doing so well. You aced all your mid-terms, and didn’t you say you were ranked top in your class?’
‘Fifth.’ Oliver corrected her. ‘And only because I refused to jump through their stupid hoops. All those lectures and study groups and God-awful group presentations,’ he added, ‘Why should I have to tick their stupid boxes? I’m smarter than half my professors, it’s a waste of my time.’
He sat back, perfectly at ease.
‘But honey, you only have another year left.’ Annette sent a pleading look towards Derek, who cleared his throat uneasily.
‘Let’s talk about this later, after dinner. I’m sure we’ll figure something out. I remember, the stress got to me too, back in the day. Maybe a weekend break away from it all is just what the doctor ordered, eh?’ He slapped Oliver on the arm.
‘I’m not stressed, I’m bored out of my goddamn mind,’ Oliver replied evenly. ‘And now the problem is solved.’
‘But what will you do?’ Annette asked, her voice lifting with concern.
‘I don’t know.’ Oliver shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ll stay here for a while, hang out with Dad and Ethan. There is room for me, right?’
Annette blinked. ‘Of course there is. The guest room is yours, you know that.’
‘My mother, the perfect hostess.’ Oliver smiled at her across the table. Annette looked away.
I watched silently, still trying to decipher the scene. Oliver’s college bombshell had sent ripples through the cosy room; Annette was fretting, his father confused. Ethan seemed to be the only one unaffected – or oblivious – as he winked at me and dug into the food. But Oliver stayed at the head of the table, chatting about classmates and Christmas vacation plans like nothing was wrong.
‘A group of us are thinking about going to Aspen for New Year’s,’ he said, helping himself to more salad. ‘Someone’s family has a cabin there. Although, these guys, a cabin probably means a ski lodge with private chef on call,’ he added, with a brief flicker of his eyes to the ceiling.
‘Are they really that wealthy?’ I asked, curious. I didn’t think of myself as some naive country kid, but Oliver had been mixing in circles I had never known.
‘Disgustingly,’ Oliver replied cheerfully. ‘Remember my roommate freshman year?’ He nudged Ethan. ‘The guy was heir to some oil fortune, out in Eastern Europe. I would have hated him for it, except he always picked up the check.’ Oliver grinned.
I laughed. ‘Doesn’t sound too bad to me.’
‘It wasn’t.’
‘So why leave now?’ Annette spoke up. ‘Darling, surely if you just finished out the year and graduated . . . ’
Oliver’s smile slipped. ‘Mom, please, we’ve got company. You’re making Chloe uncomfortable.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said, self-conscious.
‘Look, she’s practically bolting from the table,’ Oliver continued.
Annette looked away. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry.’ She cleared her throat, as if he’d been the one scolding her. ‘Now, who wants pie?’
After dinner was done, Annette and Derek retreated into the den, leaving ‘us kids’ to clean up while they closed the door on fervent whispers.
‘What do you think they’ll try this time?’ Oliver asked Ethan, lounging back against the kitchen counter as we did the dishes with a practised rhythm: him washing, me on drier duty. ‘A new car? Flat-screen TV? My parents are big believers in positive reinforcement,’ he added, explaining to me. ‘They prefer to smother you with bribes until you fold.’
‘Dude, you didn’t have to break it like that,’ Ethan told him, looking up. ‘Out of nowhere, no warning . . . ’
‘What kind of warning do they need?’ Oliver idly picked at the dessert leftovers. ‘I’m twenty-one now; it’s my life, not theirs.’
‘It’s their tuition money,’ Ethan pointed out.
‘Baby brother doesn’t like to disobey,’ Oliver told me, with a wry look. ‘He’s a people pleaser. But then, you probably knew that already.’
Before I could respond, Ethan spoke up. ‘I told you, don’t call me that.’
‘What, baby brother?’ Oliver drawled it with a grin.
‘I’m not a kid any more.’
‘But you’ll always be my baby brother,’ Oliver said, faux-serious. ‘We’ll be drooling old bachelors on our La-Z boy recliners, and you’ll still be younger than me.’
‘You know what I mean.’ Ethan turned, his jaw set with frustration.
I quickly stepped between them. ‘Let’s go upstairs,’ I told Ethan, placing a hand on his arm. ‘Oliver can finish up here.’
‘Can I now?’ Oliver looked amused.
I tugged gently on Ethan’s arm. ‘Coming?’
‘Sure.’ He hurled the wet dishcloth at Oliver, hitting him squarely in the chest. ‘All yours, big brother.’
I peeked out from under my eyelashes. He was staring straight at me, his blue eyes burning into mine.
I stared back, caught. ‘For family, and especially for new friends,’ Oliver continued, not breaking the gaze. ‘We thank you. Amen.’
Slowly, he winked.
I looked away quickly. The rest of them murmured ‘amen’, and then the moment was broken, and the bustle of cutlery on china and reaching hands quickly filled the strange space our gaze had just occupied.
What was that?
I shivered.
‘So what’s happening at Yale?’ Ethan asked, helping himself to pot roast and passing the plate on. ‘Do you have a break? I thought they worked you pretty hard.’
‘I quit.’ Oliver answered so calmly, it took a moment for the news to sink in. I watched Annette’s head jerk up in surprise, as Oliver held a dish across to me. ‘Potato?’ he offered with a smile.
‘What do you mean, you quit?’ Ethan asked. ‘Like, you just walked out?’
‘Pretty much.’ Oliver shrugged. He was still holding out the dish, so I took it, trying to ignore the look of panic passing between his parents.
‘But I don’t understand, sweetheart.’ Annette blinked at Oliver. ‘You’ve been doing so well. You aced all your mid-terms, and didn’t you say you were ranked top in your class?’
‘Fifth.’ Oliver corrected her. ‘And only because I refused to jump through their stupid hoops. All those lectures and study groups and God-awful group presentations,’ he added, ‘Why should I have to tick their stupid boxes? I’m smarter than half my professors, it’s a waste of my time.’
He sat back, perfectly at ease.
‘But honey, you only have another year left.’ Annette sent a pleading look towards Derek, who cleared his throat uneasily.
‘Let’s talk about this later, after dinner. I’m sure we’ll figure something out. I remember, the stress got to me too, back in the day. Maybe a weekend break away from it all is just what the doctor ordered, eh?’ He slapped Oliver on the arm.
‘I’m not stressed, I’m bored out of my goddamn mind,’ Oliver replied evenly. ‘And now the problem is solved.’
‘But what will you do?’ Annette asked, her voice lifting with concern.
‘I don’t know.’ Oliver shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ll stay here for a while, hang out with Dad and Ethan. There is room for me, right?’
Annette blinked. ‘Of course there is. The guest room is yours, you know that.’
‘My mother, the perfect hostess.’ Oliver smiled at her across the table. Annette looked away.
I watched silently, still trying to decipher the scene. Oliver’s college bombshell had sent ripples through the cosy room; Annette was fretting, his father confused. Ethan seemed to be the only one unaffected – or oblivious – as he winked at me and dug into the food. But Oliver stayed at the head of the table, chatting about classmates and Christmas vacation plans like nothing was wrong.
‘A group of us are thinking about going to Aspen for New Year’s,’ he said, helping himself to more salad. ‘Someone’s family has a cabin there. Although, these guys, a cabin probably means a ski lodge with private chef on call,’ he added, with a brief flicker of his eyes to the ceiling.
‘Are they really that wealthy?’ I asked, curious. I didn’t think of myself as some naive country kid, but Oliver had been mixing in circles I had never known.
‘Disgustingly,’ Oliver replied cheerfully. ‘Remember my roommate freshman year?’ He nudged Ethan. ‘The guy was heir to some oil fortune, out in Eastern Europe. I would have hated him for it, except he always picked up the check.’ Oliver grinned.
I laughed. ‘Doesn’t sound too bad to me.’
‘It wasn’t.’
‘So why leave now?’ Annette spoke up. ‘Darling, surely if you just finished out the year and graduated . . . ’
Oliver’s smile slipped. ‘Mom, please, we’ve got company. You’re making Chloe uncomfortable.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said, self-conscious.
‘Look, she’s practically bolting from the table,’ Oliver continued.
Annette looked away. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry.’ She cleared her throat, as if he’d been the one scolding her. ‘Now, who wants pie?’
After dinner was done, Annette and Derek retreated into the den, leaving ‘us kids’ to clean up while they closed the door on fervent whispers.
‘What do you think they’ll try this time?’ Oliver asked Ethan, lounging back against the kitchen counter as we did the dishes with a practised rhythm: him washing, me on drier duty. ‘A new car? Flat-screen TV? My parents are big believers in positive reinforcement,’ he added, explaining to me. ‘They prefer to smother you with bribes until you fold.’
‘Dude, you didn’t have to break it like that,’ Ethan told him, looking up. ‘Out of nowhere, no warning . . . ’
‘What kind of warning do they need?’ Oliver idly picked at the dessert leftovers. ‘I’m twenty-one now; it’s my life, not theirs.’
‘It’s their tuition money,’ Ethan pointed out.
‘Baby brother doesn’t like to disobey,’ Oliver told me, with a wry look. ‘He’s a people pleaser. But then, you probably knew that already.’
Before I could respond, Ethan spoke up. ‘I told you, don’t call me that.’
‘What, baby brother?’ Oliver drawled it with a grin.
‘I’m not a kid any more.’
‘But you’ll always be my baby brother,’ Oliver said, faux-serious. ‘We’ll be drooling old bachelors on our La-Z boy recliners, and you’ll still be younger than me.’
‘You know what I mean.’ Ethan turned, his jaw set with frustration.
I quickly stepped between them. ‘Let’s go upstairs,’ I told Ethan, placing a hand on his arm. ‘Oliver can finish up here.’
‘Can I now?’ Oliver looked amused.
I tugged gently on Ethan’s arm. ‘Coming?’
‘Sure.’ He hurled the wet dishcloth at Oliver, hitting him squarely in the chest. ‘All yours, big brother.’
