EIGHT: OLIVIA

                                    

                                          
It's always been this way before a big performance. I can't sleep, so I stare up at the ceiling, letting my mind run wild, which is never a good thing. Tomorrow is the first game of the season, and there's already so much buzz around the team; thanks in no small part to... you guessed it, Spencer freaking James. He's everywhere— all the time. 
Whenever I find myself thinking a little too hard about the person I know I shouldn't, I find my stomach in knots. I turn the brightness down on my phone before opening up Instagram. I see a picture Kennedy posted of her and Spencer from earlier. They're disgustingly cute, which helps to remind me exactly where my place is in this little trio. She looks at him like he's the earth, moon, and stars. And this isn't just for photos; this is really how she looks at him all the time. 
Kennedy is 1000% the kind of friend you latch onto and do everything in your power never to let go. I've only known her for four months, and she's already fiercely loyal and so inspiring. She takes people for exactly who they are and loves them unconditionally. It's refreshing. 
I double-tap the picture and keep on scrolling. The longer I scroll, the longer the urge builds to check on someone I have no business checking in on. I type her name in, and surprisingly, I'm no longer blocked. Still to be determined whether that's a good or bad thing. 
Her most recent picture is in a football jersey where she proudly displays the number 81 'Adams' on the back. 'Can't wait to support my man tomorrow,' the caption reads. 
Maybe she's happy. Maybe they're truly happy. Maybe I really was just a horrible mistake he had to make to realize what she meant to him. Maybe I deserve her forgiving him and not me. Maybe. 
I close out of the app before that particular form of torture sends me into a deep spiral. 
"Can't sleep?" I hear Kenny's groggy voice
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." I roll over to face her though it's pitch dark in our room, so I really have no idea what I'm looking at. 
"Oh, I wasn't sleeping. Just talking to my mom. Or at least trying to imagine what it would be like to talk to my mom before our first performance tomorrow." She sighs.
"Oh, Kennedy—"
"None of that, Liv. It's okay. She's out there, somewhere. I know, in her own way, she's proud. She knows." 
Kennedy's mom fled when she was young. Just woke up one day and didn't want to be a mom anymore. Kennedy still thinks the world of her. I've never heard a negative thing about the woman who abandoned her. Her heart is just too pure. 
"Sleep, Liv. We have a big day tomorrow. I can't wait to watch you shine!" She tosses her stuffed butterfly to me, and it lands perfectly next to me. Her words play in my head. 
We're learning and growing. It's not always fun. Sometimes, it's painful, and that's okay. We're gaining our wings. It's a process. Even once we get them, we still have to learn how to fly. But once we do, we soar. 
I decide to listen and finally sleep. 
**
"JORDAN!" I bang on his door. "OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!" My fist connects with more force each time. 
Just as I'm about to pound one more time, the door flies open. "Woah, there, little tiger. Who pissed you off this early?" 
I stare at Spencer, shirtless with grey sweatpants that sit a little too low. I feel supremely shitty as I internally scream at myself to look away, but my eyes don't move. They stay locked on Kennedy's boyfriend, and my mind begins to have thoughts that would certainly have me homeless and friendless if anyone else was in my head.