MoboReader > Short stories > Saving Olivia

   Chapter 5 Juice Under The Couch

Saving Olivia By LadyRosabella Characters: 9368

Updated: 2017-12-20 17:23

"Don't forget your scarf." She said as she lifted it from her end stand in the living room. She smiled a bit as she held it out to Mason.

"See? You do care about me." Mason teased as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. "You don't want me to catch cold."

"I never said that." The girl protested even as she stared guiltily at the floor. "I just don't want your junk cluttering my apartment." She muttered.

Mason chuckled as he glanced around the living room again. No chance of this room being cluttered, he thought to himself. He was wise enough to keep that comment unspoken. Instead, he turned his eyes back to the woman child before him. She still kept her eyes trained on the floor, her cheeks looked warm with a rosy blush. "Are you going to tell me your name, darlin'?"

"It doesn't matter." She said finally glancing up to look at Mason. "It's not likely we'll ever meet again."

Mason laughed. "Honey, I'm coming to your place for dinner tomorrow night whether you tell me your name or not."

The girl's head flew up even as she took several steps forward. "You can't!" She gasped.

"Sure I can. I know where you live."

"Lydia is coming tomorrow night. I was supposed to bake a cake for her tonight." She groaned as she ran her fingers roughly through her hair. Mason had the feeling she did that a lot. A nervous gesture perhaps?

"Wonderful! That's your sister?"


Mason raised a brow when she didn't bother with an explanation. "Well? Who is she then? Your probation officer?" Mason was not expecting the flash of anger that lit her eyes making them appear as blue fire.

"Get out." She growled as she lunged forward pushing with all her might to get him through the door.

"Hey! Hey, calm down, kitten." Mason said standing his ground.

"Don't call me kitten!"

Mason smirked as he took a quick step back causing the girl to stumble and fall. She glared up at him from her position on the floor. "Sorry, sugar. Until you give me your name I'll just keep calling you kitten." Chuckling to himself, he twisted the door handle and let himself out. "Good night, kitten. Sleep tight." His laughter followed him down the hall.

The girl remained on the floor glaring at the door in frustration, admiration, and confusion. Did any of that really happen? He was so annoying. She shook her head. Maybe this was all just some wildly crazy nightmare.


I picked myself up off the ground and walked into the kitchen. I still had to make a cake for Lydia. We were having an anniversary dinner. Tomorrow Lydia and I will have been together for five years. Those were the best years of my life. Even though I no longer live with Lydia we are still close. I love her like she's my mother. She has always treated me like a daughter. I open the freezer and take out the flour, sugar, and butter.

Where did I put the baking powder and vanilla flavoring? I lean against the counter as I try to remembers here I stashed last weeks groceries. Crackers are in the side table drawer. Bread is in the bathroom closet. Canned soup is stacked up in my closet. Baking power is in my raincoat pocket. Hurrying to my closet I searched through the clothes until I found the right coat. Sure enough, the baking powder was there. Which means.... I reached into the other pocket withdrawing a small bottle of imitation vanilla. Perfect. Now I can bake. Carrying my ingredients back into the kitchen I retrieved a glass mixing bowl and began measuring and mixing. One hour and thirty minutes later I pulled two perfectly baked cakes from the oven. I smiled at my efforts. Except for the fork mark in the center, the cakes were perfect. I set them on the stove top and draped a clean dish towel over them. Now they can cool while I sleep.

After brushing my teeth, I pulled out my my couch bed and swiftly set it to rights. I am so tired. Today was quite a day. I pull back the blue and green patch quilt and snuggle down into the mattress. My eyes drifted shut but my mind continued to linger on the brown eyed boy who was determined to insert himself into my life. He was kinda nice. Too bad he was a stranger. Rolling over, I punched my pillow a couple of times before laying my head on it and closing my eyes.

Beep beep beep

I groaned as my alarm clock beeped noisily in my ear. Why didn't I put it across the room? Oh right. It's easier to push the snooze button from here. I slapped my hand on the side table until I hit the offending clock. Ahh, silence at last. I closed my eyes and relaxed for a couple more minutes.

Wait. What day is today? Oh! I throw back the blankets and hop out of bed. It's Saturday! Lydia will be coming ov

er soon for our Saturday movie marathon. I quickly fold up my bed, changing it back into my couch. I hurry into the closet and roll out my tv stand. It's just a tv/DVD combo. Nothing special but it works well. Plus I got a good bargain on it. There, I survey the living room and kitchen. All I have to do is shower and dress. Then I can finish off the cake and I will be ready.

Shower and dressing finished, I stand in the kitchen wearing blue skinny jeans and an oversized pink sweatshirt. I pull the towel off the cakes and smile at the beautiful result. This cake will be great! I frosted the bottom layer then carefully pick up the second layer and set it on top. The frosting holds it well. The doorbell chimes as I begin to frost my beautiful two layer cake. "Come in!" I call out thinking it is Lydia.

"It's not safe letting people walk into you home like that, kitty."

"OH!" I squeal spinning around to find myself face to face with the man from last night. "Mason."


My eyes went wide. How in the world did he learn my name?

"I ran into one of your neighbors on my way up. Ahh, you made a cake. You must've been expecting me."

"No. " I turn back around to finish my cake, though honestly I'm protecting it from him. He looks like he wants to eat it. I can't believe he actually came back. He must want something. What could he possibly want? Besides my cake, I mean.

"Ahh honey. Let's start over. I want to be friends."

Surprise froze me. "Why?" I ask not turning around. This is it. He'll soon tell me what he wants and why he is here. I hope.

"Because you're unique. And I need a friend."

That was honest. Too honest. I didn't expect that answer. What is his game? I slowly turn around to look at him, I wanted to know what facial expressions he was making. How would I know if he was telling the truth if I didn't look at him. "Don't you have a lot of friends?"

"Hey, let's not have a soap opera here." He said, his smile seemed forced though. "Will you let me hang out today? I'm not working, my mom is with her caretaker all day and I'm bored."

Oh yeah. Guys don't like drama. Drama aside, what can I really say? 'No, I don't want to hang out with you. Go home and watch your mom take her pills'. I sighed. The truth is the guy fascinated me in an odd messed up sort of way. He seemed like the type who would be wildly popular with guys and girls alike and yet here he is wanting to hang out with me, a awkward girl without a place in this world. All of those thoughts are what lead me to say: "Okay. There's juice under the couch. Can you pour three glasses and add ice?"

Thankfully he didn't ask why I don't keep the juice in the kitchen. I didn't feel like explaining and then having him look at me like I'm some sort of a fruitcake. I finished the cake and then walked into the living room. Letting him stay may have been a big mistake. Or maybe it was one of my best decisions. Either way, Lydia was going to be very surprised when she found out it was a movie group of three.

Mason poured the grape juice into the three glasses and added some ice. I stood watching him, thankfully he wasn't aware of my presence. He was a nice looking man. His eyes were a deep brown, warm and appealing. His hair bordered a dark blonde- light brown line. It seemed to have a mind of its own as it flopped whichever way and he seemed to make no effort to tame it. The entire look combined with his casual jeans and T-shirt served to give him the 'cute' boy look. The deep dimple in his left cheek only added to that impression.

Girls would love his looks. Guys would like his personality. Why is he in my apartment?

Trying to brush off the questions in my mind I went to the side table and opened the drawer. Mason looked up at me and smiled. "So what are we watching today?" He asked.

"Hmm..." I pretended to think. "What movies do you hate?"

"All chick-flicks."

"Ahh. Too bad. That's all we're watching." I grinned and I pulled out three of our favorites.

Mason chuckled. "I figured you'd say something like that. That's why I lied." He ruffled my hair before carrying the juice into the kitchen.

I stared after him in surprise. He lied. Wait. Does that mean he likes chick-flicks? Hey! He's taking the juice into the kitchen!








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