Chapter 15 - Bad Morning ♡︎

The sunlight slipped through the thin curtains of Olive's room, making her groan and bury her face deeper into the pillow. Her head was pounding like a drumline, her stomach churned, and her mouth felt dry as paper. She blinked slowly, trying to orient herself, her brain foggy and sluggish. So this... this was what a hangover felt like.

A soft knock came at the door, and Olive winced at the sound, rolling over with a whimper. "C–Come in," she croaked, her voice weak and scratchy.

The door creaked open, and Jackie stepped inside. She had a mug of tea in one hand and a small smile on her face, though her eyes still carried the exhaustion of last night. "Morning, Ollie," she said gently, setting the mug down on the nightstand. "How are we feeling?"

Olive groaned dramatically, covering her eyes with the blanket. "Like I got run over by... I don't know... twenty trucks." Her voice was muffled under the covers, and she peeked out with wide, pitiful eyes. "Is this what a hangover is? Because if it is, I-I don't ever want to drink again."

Jackie chuckled, shaking her head as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, that's a hangover. Welcome to the club. Not a fun membership, huh?" She nudged Olive lightly on the shoulder, her tone warm and teasing.

Olive whined, curling into herself, then peeked back at Jackie again. "So... last night. I... don't remember much. Just little pieces. Did I... did I embarrass myself?"

Jackie hesitated, her lips pressing together. Images of Olive slurring her words, giggling uncontrollably, and nearly falling over came to mind, but more than that—Cole kissing her. Jackie felt her chest tighten at the memory, her jaw stiffening. She couldn't tell Olive. Not yet. Not when Olive was this soft and vulnerable.

"You didn't embarrass yourself," Jackie said finally, forcing a small smile. "You were just... really drunk. But Cole made sure you got home safe."

Olive blinked, confusion flickering in her tired eyes. "Cole?"

"Yeah," Jackie nodded, brushing a strand of hair from Olive's face like a big sister would. "He carried you in, brought you upstairs, tucked you into bed."

Olive's face flushed pink immediately, and she sat up a little too fast, clutching her head as she groaned again. "He—he tucked me in? Like... actually tucked me in?"

Jackie laughed softly at the sight of her friend blushing like crazy. "Yeah. He made sure you had water, made you take some medicine so your head wouldn't hurt too bad this morning. Honestly, Olive, he took better care of you than I expected him to."

Olive pressed her palms against her burning cheeks, her lips twitching into a nervous smile. "That's... so embarrassing. I must've looked like such a m-mess. I can't believe C-Cole Walter of all people tucked me in."

Jackie smirked but said nothing, biting back the truth that wanted to slip out. Olive didn't need to know about the kiss. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Olive let out a soft whimper, clutching the blanket tighter as if it could somehow shield her from the weight of the day. Her eyes peeked up at Jackie with a childlike pleading expression. "Will you... help me get ready? I don't think I can even function right now," she admitted, her voice fragile and groggy. Her cheeks still burned faintly from earlier, and she was painfully aware that at some point today, she would probably have to face Cole again.

Jackie's expression softened immediately, her irritation from the night before momentarily forgotten. "Of course, Ollie. You don't even have to ask." She gave her friend's hand a gentle squeeze before standing and heading over to Olive's small dresser. "You just focus on brushing your teeth and trying not to fall over. I'll pick out your outfit."

With Jackie's guidance, Olive shuffled to the bathroom, moving like someone who had just learned to walk. She brushed her teeth with slow, deliberate movements, trying not to gag when the minty foam swirled in her mouth against her unsettled stomach. She could hear Jackie humming faintly from the bedroom, the sound of hangers clinking as she searched through Olive's clothes.

When Olive returned, her hair a tangled mess, Jackie was waiting with a simple but cute outfit—soft jeans and a pale sweater that complimented Olive's gentle features. Jackie sat her down at the edge of the bed, grabbed a brush, and began working through the knots in Olive's hair. "You really need to start brushing your hair before bed," Jackie teased lightly, though her touch remained careful and tender.

Olive made a small noise of protest but leaned into the brushing anyway. "I usually do... I just... forgot last night." She wrinkled her nose at her own words, then whispered, "I forgot a lot of things last night."

Jackie's hand slowed briefly, her eyes flickering with something unreadable, but she quickly pushed it aside. "Well, consider this a fresh start. New day, new Olive."

By the time Jackie was finished, Olive looked a little more alive. Her hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, her sweater neat, her cheeks still pale but with just enough color to make her look less like a ghost. Jackie gave her an encouraging smile, looping her arm through Olive's as they headed downstairs together.

The smell of bacon and coffee wafted through the house, warm and comforting. Katherine stood in the kitchen, moving between the stove and the dining table with practiced ease. Plates were already set out, eggs steaming, toast stacked, and fruit glistening in bowls. She glanced up the moment Olive and Jackie walked in, her sharp eyes softening when they landed on Olive. "Good morning, sweetheart," Katherine said warmly, though there was a note of careful study in her voice. "Are you feeling alright?"

Olive ducked her head shyly, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater as she nodded. "A little better," she murmured, her voice still quiet but steadier than before.

"Good," Katherine replied, though she still watched her with the kind of scrutiny only a mother figure could manage. After a pause, she added gently, "Eat something, even if it's just toast. It'll help."

Olive offered a small, grateful smile before letting her eyes wander to the table where the Walter boys were already seated. And then she froze.

Cole was there.

He sat casually in his chair, leaning back slightly as he tore a piece of bacon in half with his teeth, completely at ease as though the house wasn't filled with tension from the night before. But then his gaze lifted, his sharp green eyes locking onto Olive's the moment she looked his way. For a brief second, his usual smirk didn't appear. Instead, there was a flicker of something softer, something unspoken, like he was replaying the same memory.

The kiss. Not just once, but twice.

Heat rushed to Olive's face, and she quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the empty chair across the table.___

Jackie sat directly across from Cole, her plate untouched as she narrowed her eyes at him. She hadn't gotten over what they discussed last night—about him dragging Olive to that party, about letting her drink when he should have been responsible, about almost letting things get out of hand. Jackie's stare was sharp, unrelenting, the kind of glare that wanted to pierce straight through Cole's calm façade.

Cole, on the other hand, didn't seem fazed in the slightest. He leaned back in his chair, chewing on a piece of bacon with that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. Jackie could glare all she wanted, but Cole wasn't going to let her make him feel guilty. He had been there. He had taken care of Olive. He could handle Jackie just fine.

The sound of footsteps broke through the tension. Alex came down the stairs, followed closely by Danny, both of them looking like they had barely rolled out of bed. Alex headed straight for Jackie, kissing the top of her head as he slid into the seat beside her. "Morning, babe," he said warmly, grabbing her hand. Jackie's expression softened immediately, though Cole didn't miss the way her glare flicked back to him the moment Alex wasn't looking. Danny, meanwhile, plopped down at the table, reaching for a plate like he hadn't eaten in days, already piling on food without a second thought.

While Alex and Jackie leaned into their quiet conversation, Jackie updating him on something student council-related, Cole turned his attention across the table. Olive was sitting quietly next to Jackie, her hands folded in her lap as if she were still too shy to move or make a sound in the crowded kitchen. Her cheeks were pale, her eyes heavy, and though she gave small polite nods whenever Katherine or George asked her how she was feeling, it was obvious she was still battling the aftermath of her first hangover. Cole leaned forward, his green eyes finding hers, and tilted his head until his shoulder almost brushed hers. He dipped his voice low, just enough so only she could hear.

"How're you feeling, tiny?" he asked, the teasing lilt in his tone softened by genuine concern.

Olive's breath hitched. Her face heated instantly, pink blooming across her cheeks as she avoided his gaze. She shifted in her chair, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sweater. "I've... I've felt better," she admitted shyly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Cole smirked faintly, watching the way her blush deepened as he leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased by her reaction. Jackie, noticing the exchange, snapped her head in Cole's direction with a scowl, but Olive just ducked her head lower, heart racing as she tried to focus on her breakfast.

Alex pushed his plate away once he finished, standing and brushing his hands together with a quick glance at the clock on the wall. "Alright, we better get moving if we want to make it to campus on time," he announced, slipping his backpack over his shoulder. Jackie nodded in agreement, grabbing her own bag and giving Olive's arm a gentle tug, like a subtle reminder to stick by her side. Danny followed behind them, yawning as he stuffed the last piece of toast into his mouth. The household moved like a well-practiced routine, the chaos of so many people leaving at once somehow organized, everyone filing toward the door in a steady rhythm.

Olive trailed at the back, adjusting the strap of her bag nervously. She still felt a little lightheaded from her hangover, and her steps were slower than the others. Cole, noticing, didn't walk ahead with his brothers. Instead, he hung back, his broad frame looming protectively at her side. She kept her eyes down, chewing her lip as her thoughts tangled up in a haze. Try as she might, the pieces of last night refused to fall neatly into place. She remembered the party—music, voices, the fire crackling, Erin sneering at her. She remembered drinking far too much. And she remembered Cole's hand steadying her, his voice calling her tiny in that teasing but strangely reassuring way. But after that... her memory was broken, like someone had painted it over in soft, blurred strokes.

Her brow furrowed as she tried harder to piece it together. Did something else happen? Something important? Her heart pounded at the thought, her cheeks warming as fragments threatened to surface, but they slipped away before she could grasp them. She pressed a hand against her temple, sighing softly in frustration.

Cole noticed, his sharp green eyes catching the tiny crease in her forehead and the way her lips turned down in concentration. With a low chuckle, he reached out and rested his hand lightly on her head, ruffling her hair just enough to make her blink up at him. "Don't hurt yourself, tiny," he teased, his voice pitched low so the others wouldn't overhear. "You trying to remember is just going to give you a bigger headache."

Olive blinked, her blush deepening. "I... I just feel like something happened," she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "Something important, but... I can't remember."

Cole's smirk softened into something else, something almost unreadable. He let his hand linger on the crown of her head, his thumb brushing gently as though he couldn't quite stop himself.

"It's for the best," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the shuffle of everyone else slipping on shoes and heading out the door. His gaze lingered on her, warm but heavy, as though he were holding something back.

Because he was. Every nerve in his body was screaming to tell her. To remind her. To see her reaction when she realized her very first kiss belonged to him now. And God, he wanted to do it again. Right there, in the open, with no hesitation this time. But he forced himself to hold it in, biting down the urge and schooling his expression back into that cocky ease.

Olive gave a small nod, not knowing what else to say, and lowered her eyes again as Jackie called for her to hurry up. Cole finally let his hand drop from her head, clenching his jaw as they stepped outside. He followed close beside her, his thoughts burning with what he hadn't said, what he was dying to say—that she belonged to him now, whether she realized it yet or not.