Read April & Oliver for Free Online Page B

least I have plans,” he said. “Which is more than you can say.”
    He thought this would provoke her, but she only sighed.
    “Sure, Juilliard would be fun, but then what? If you’re not Horowitz, you end up playing for tips in some sleazy bar. Or worse,
     teaching in high school.”
    “That’s not it,” she said. “You’re afraid you’ll like it too much, that it will swallow you whole.”
    He laughed unconvincingly.
    April stood and walked toward the door. Her boots did not look comfortable. Neither did the jeans. Oliver shut off the light
     and took out his key. At the door, she accidentally backed up against him and then jerked away with a start.
    “God, you’re jumpy,” he said.
    She wrapped her jacket more tightly around her and slipped through the door. Outside, the air was cool and crisp, fragrant
     with lilac. Oliver thought of orchids, Dancing Girls and Lady’s Slippers, too delicate to touch.
    Along Sunrise Highway, traffic lights turned with no one to obey them. April and Oliver passed beneath the train trestle and
     took the shortcut, down along the creek where they used to play. He noticed litter and beer cans, a single high-heeled shoe,
     and a broken baby carriage turned on its head. April was walking unsteadily, wavering up and down the bank of the dry creek.
     She tripped on a root, landing on hands and knees.
    He bent to help her up but instead she rolled onto her back. “I’ve got the spins,” she said, covering her face with her hands.
     “Don’t let Buddy see me.”
    “He’s asleep by now. Come on. You can’t stay here.”
    “You go ahead. I’ll get it back in a minute.”
    Oliver sat down beside her. The half-eaten moon sifted in and out of low, fast-moving clouds. A breeze stirred the blossoming
     maples, luminous beneath a streetlamp. Across the road above them, house lights went out one by one. A great place to get
     mugged, Oliver thought, here where no one could see them. April laced her fingers through the sparse grass, her dark hair
     fanned out around her face, oddly pale in the moonlight.
    “Oliver,” she said. “I fucked up.”
    He leaned closer, wanting to hear more, but knowing that if he asked, she would clam up. He searched for the right thing to
     say, but all that came to mind was the song.
    “Oliver,” she said again. “Why don’t you ask that girl Daisy to the prom?”
    He cursed himself for waiting, allowing her to change the subject.
    “She’s sweet on you,” she said.
    “If I wanted to, I would.”
    “Scared?”
    “No,” he said, laughing.
    “I think you are.”
    “If I need a shrink, I’ll pay for one.”
    She sat up, her knee pressed to his thigh. She looked worse now. Shaky and hot. “You’ve never done it, have you, Oliver?”
    “Jesus,” he said.
    “Free advice. The first time make sure you face her. A girl likes to know who’s there.”
    “You’re drunk.”
    “And don’t kiss if you don’t mean it,” she said seriously. “There’s nothing worse than obligatory foreplay.”
    “What makes you think I need your advice?”
    “Because you went out with Maryellen Kowalski three times and never kissed her good night.”
    “First of all, that’s none of your business, and second, maybe I didn’t want to. Maybe it would have been one of your so-called
     token gestures.”
    “Or maybe you don’t know how.”
    “Piss off,” he said. Her knee on his thigh was creating heat. He was sure she felt it, too. “I’m out of here,” he said.
    She leaned forward on all fours, one hand on either side of him. Oliver smelled whiskey on her breath, salt in the air, the
     heady fragrance of buds. His gaze traveled the curve of her jeans, the sway of her back, the arc of moon-white flesh inside
     her blouse. Her eyes were steady, fixed on his.
What the hell,
he thought,
let her humiliate me. I’m in for the lesson of my life
. Her hair grazed his cheek, her breath so close he could almost taste the liquor. “Oliver,” she said. “Go