Category: test1

Oh, by the way, you can crash at our place.

Olive had three non-negotiable pet peeves: people who chewed with their mouths wide open, the cringey term “moist,” and at the very top of the list—romantic love. To be honest, she’d given love so many chances, time and again, and the occasional involuntary eye twitch she still got was concrete proof of how badly every attempt had left her crushed. “Your breathing’s off,” Katie pointed out through the Bluetooth earpiece. “You ate something loaded with nuts again, right?” It was just another reminder of how disastrous love had turned out for her. Olive was crazy about peanuts, but her body hated them with a deadly allergy. “Nope, I’m totally fine,” she lied into the mic, quietly patting herself on the back for mastering tiny, harmless lies. Years of perfecting this craft let her fool almost everyone, even her lifelong best friend. “Honestly, I’m great. One hundred percent killing it, no exaggeration.” “That’s sarcasm, isn’t it?” Katie Turner-Brooks had a photographic memory, could solve complex math equations entirely in her head, and recite word-for-word conversations from years ago—but sarcasm went straight over her head every single time. “Excuse me, that’s intentional manifestation,” Olive corrected her. “I’m really trying to convince myself I’m doing well.” And halfway through spiraling into a full panic attack, she added silently. “Then you will.” Katie never grasped that things didn’t come so easily for Olive. As a kid, she’d been painfully awkward, desperate to fit in, and not much had shifted as an adult. She exhaled slowly, drinking in the scenery as she cruised along Lake Tahoe’s shoreline, heading toward Sunrise Cove, a tiny mountain town tucked on the north end. She fought the urge to revert back to that lonely, lost teenage girl she’d once been. “I grabbed salami, an energy drink, and a chocolate cream pie at the last gas station, if that explains my frazzled mental state.” “What’s there to stress over? Barely anyone remembers the incident where you ran over the town’s golden boy.” When Olive fell silent, Katie heaved a sigh. “And clearly I still can’t deliver a joke properly. I even read an entire book on comedy technique and everything.” “It had a tiny spark of humor. Emphasis on tiny.” Olive knew full well the whole town hadn’t forgotten her mistake. Noah Turner, the so-called town hero, wore many labels: voted most likely to achieve great things, beloved only son, Katie’s identical twin brother—and Olive’s fake high school boyfriend, let’s not overlook that detail. “Why do you care what random people think?” Katie pressed. “I don’t. I’m just worn out from never having my life fully sorted out.” “Fake it till you make it, girl,” Katie reminded her. “You were the one who told me that line once.” The flood of old memories tightened Olive’s throat, so she refocused all her attention on the landscape outside her windshield. The sky stretched blindingly bright and crystal clear; the lake water blazed an impossibly deep sapphire blue; endless pine forests blanketed the mountains, their peaks dusted with permanent snow caps. Every inch of the view brimmed with vivid, pulsing life—if it weren’t so vibrantly alive, the whole scene could’ve passed for a flawless oil painting. Katie’s voice cut through her quiet awe. “You also once said no matter how many times you break apart, you can always piece yourself back together again.” “Yeah, well, younger me had far more optimism. It’d be nice if you’d try to erase all the dumb things I’ve rambled on about over the years.” “How am I supposed to separate those from your actual meaningful words?” Olive let out a soft laugh. “Wow, that actually counted as a joke for once!” “Who said I was joking?” “Hilarious.” “Whatever.” Katie cleared her throat, shifting tone to something gentler. “I really appreciate you driving out here to help me look after little Joey. The library granted me indefinite leave, but having you around will take so much weight off my shoulders. I’ll get more time at the hospital with Joe, and it means the world to me.” “Of course I came.” Katie rarely asked anybody for assistance, even though she’d given Olive everything her own parents never could: safety, stability, unconditional acceptance. “I’m all yours, whatever you need at all.

Special Agents Noah and Joe, Katie’s husband, had served side by side in ISB—the Investigative Services Branch of the U.S. Department of the Interior’s National Park Service, based in Yosemite, three hours south of here. The pair had been hunting down a string of vehicle break-ins and robberies, which finally escalated into a brutal high-speed pursuit. A suspect in the fleeing car opened fire on them, slicing through the patrol car’s windshield, blowing two tires, and slamming the vehicle violently off the road. A helicopter ferried Joe by air to a hospital in the Tahoe area, where he’d been holed up in the ICU for a full week after the crash. Noah was discharged, but the medical team hadn’t signed off on his return to duty—he was still recovering from multiple injuries, including an injured right leg. That leg wound was a relapse of an old injury: years ago, Olive had accidentally run him over with her car. She’d stashed that memory in a mental folder titled "Don’t Think About This Right Now." “How’s Joe doing?” “He’s still in a coma,” Katie said flatly. “Short answer: he’s unresponsive, stuck in an unconscious state because of damage to the brain’s ascending reticular activating system—ARAS, the part that controls wakefulness.” “He’ll make it,” Olive whispered softly. “He better. If he doesn’t wake up, I’m going straight into that coma and yank him out myself.” “I’ll help you.” “Misfits stick together.” Olive let out a soft huff of laughter, repeating the line. “Misfits stick together.” That had been their motto since she moved in with her grandma at 14, right next door to the Turners. Before that, she’d been homeschooled on a remote off-grid farm hours north of Lake Tahoe, hidden in a wilderness almost no one dared step into. She could build a raging fire in three minutes flat, but had zero clue how to talk to kids her age. Katie was just as socially awkward, making them easy targets for school bullies. As for Noah—he wasn’t an outcast or troublemaker at all—he’d reluctantly become their unofficial protector back then. “You almost here?” Katie asked. Olive glanced at the lake on her right. Its deep blue waters were so big they could swallow the entire Empire State Building. Tall pine forests climbed the mountain slopes, their treetops almost touching the thin, fluffy white clouds floating above. Just looking at the landscape calmed her racing heart. “I’m passing your library building now.” “The library? Great! You’ll be here in exactly ten and a half minutes. Don’t get lost.” Olive laughed. “It hasn’t been that long, I never get lost.” “That’s a lie! Remember your driver’s test? The DMV guy told you to turn right, but you always mix up left and right, so you swerved left instead—” “I’ve got left and right down now,” Olive joked, trying to cut the story short. But her hope was slim—Katie never let a side tangent die once she started talking. “You ended up going the wrong way on a one-way street and totally panicked. You jerked the wheel to turn right, but it wasn’t a road—just a hiking trail with No Vehicle Access signs everywhere. You failed the test right away—” “I remember every single detail.” “The examiner ended up with severe chest pains and got rushed to the hospital by ambulance—only for doctors to find it was just indigestion. He’d stuffed four hot dogs from that lakefront food shack, the one that got shut down after poisoning dozens of visitors. Remember that part?” “Vaguely,” Olive said flatly. “You made the local paper’s front page. Almost no one does that, but you did it again a few years later when—” “Let me stop you there, okay? I haven’t forgotten any of my embarrassing mistakes. I’ll see you in a couple minutes—” Her words cut off when a man stepped off the sidewalk without looking for cars. She slammed on the brakes hard, her heart jumping into panic as the rented Mini Cooper skidded to a stop just feet away from him. When he turned to face her, Olive gasped in total shock. “What’s happening?” Katie’s voice crackled through the Bluetooth. Olive’s car was crooked halfway into the crosswalk, the sharp smell of burnt rubber filling her nose. The stranger she almost hit pulled out one earbud, raised a hand to block the sun, clearly trying to see her face through the tiny rental car’s windshield. A shaky breath of relief escaped her. It was Noah Turner. He mouthed a quick sorry before walking on, his gait uneven as he clearly favored his injured right leg. “He mouths an apology?” Olive muttered to herself. “I almost had a heart attack, and all he gives me is a silent sorry—” “Who are you talking to?” “I almost ran over your brother. Again.” “He’s not gonna be happy to hear that.” Olive fought the urge to bang her head on the steering wheel. “I’m pretty sure he couldn’t recognize me through the glass, and I have no plans to tell him anything. You can’t mention this either.” “No problem,” Katie said casually. “Around here, you’re known as The One Who Shall Not Be Named.” “Excuse me?” “Shoot,” Katie muttered, then made a sound like she smacked her own forehead. “Don’t tell Olive I called her that nickname.” “Are you kidding? That’s what they call me?” “Don’t take it personal,” Katie rushed to calm her. “He’s got a whole list of off-limits topics Mom and I can’t bring up. One category is women and marriage—all women, not just you.” Olive let out a choked laugh. “Wow, that’s harsh.” “We’re also not allowed to ask when he’ll settle down and start a family. Honestly, he should’ve added matchmaking to the rulebook. Mom keeps trying to set him up with every single single woman she meets.” For the first time all day, a real smile tugged at Olive’s lips. She’d spent the whole drive dreading running into Noah, but it sounded like he was busy dodging blind dates.

A tiny, soft mew pricked Olive’s ears. She glanced down, spotting a tiny gray-white kitten staring right back at her—its pale blue eyes slightly crossed, wide as saucers. “Hey there, little one.” She held out a hand, only for the tiny creature to hiss and dart away. “Small frame, huge attitude, huh? I won’t hurt you, promise.” “You won’t, but she might,” Grandma said, stepping onto the porch with a wooden tray. “That’s a stray that wandered onto our land out of nowhere yesterday. I named her Pepper—perfect for such a feisty little spitfire.” “She’s way too skinny.” “I know. I’ve been leaving bowls of kibble and fresh water out for her, and I’ll feed you in a sec.” Olive turned to Grandma and chuckled, spotting the tray piled with cold milk and chocolate chip cookies—just like their childhood afternoon rituals. Grandma gave a big grin: “I’ve always loved strays of all kinds.” Olive dipped a cookie into her milk, watching closely to get the soak just right—too short and it stays dry, too long and it turns to mush. “Is work stress getting to you? I thought you adored living in London and running your own firm.” Olive thought about it, leaning forward over her mug, only to accidentally spill milk all down her sundress. Great. “I really do love it—London’s awesome, and being my own boss is even better.” Grandma dunked her cookie flawlessly, lifting it to her mouth with zero spills. “While you’re here, I need your PR help at the local senior center. We wanna expand our facilities and need help getting funding.” “Absolutely, I’d love to help.” Grandma’s grin widened. “What about your boyfriend? His name was Ian, right? The one who got you that pretty silver bracelet.” Ian was the last person she wanted to talk about. He’d left her emotionally wrecked, with constant headaches and trust issues after cheating on a friend she thought was close. She’d bought that bracelet for herself after they split up. “I’m… seeing someone new.” “Oh, that’s awesome news,” Grandma brightened instantly. “What’s his name?” “Matt. He’s funny, kind, loyal, has a solid job, and comes from a loving family. The catch? He’s totally made up—so he’s the perfect fake boyfriend.” “He didn’t wanna come with you?” Grandma glanced at her bare ring finger. “I would’ve loved to meet him.” That’s the worst part of having a fake partner. But at least she didn’t have to answer endless questions about being single, or why she’s scared to love again. Plus, it made her life look way more put-together than it actually was, and she’d take any small win she could get. “He’s swamped with work lately, so—” “Nonsense. No one’s too busy for love. You deserve a happy, steady relationship more than anyone I know.” Olive didn’t want romance or love at all. What she craved was stability—something her messy childhood never gave her. So every romantic relationship she entered inevitably repeated the chaotic unpredictability she’d grown up around. A pickup truck rumbled up the shared driveway, stopping at the top of Katie’s side of the property. The man who got out was exactly like Olive remembered: tall, lean and muscular, dark loose curls peeking out from under a baseball cap, mirrored sunglasses masking his eyes. Once, he had a permanent easy smile, but today his jaw was tight. He shrugged his broad shoulders like he was fighting constant pain, then froze the second his gaze landed on the tiny Mini Cooper parked next to Grandma’s house. The same car that almost hit him half an hour earlier. Olive gasped and sank deep into the wooden porch swing. She held her breath as he pushed his sunglasses up to his cap, peered through the car windows, then lifted his head—zeroing in on her position, their eyes locking instantly.

Olive huddled as low as she could on the porch swing, not daring to slide all the way down—she was desperate to stay out of sight of the white picket fence at the front. “What on earth are you doing?” Gram asked. “Playing invisible! You can’t see me at all—I’m not even here—” “I’d beg to differ,” a familiar male voice cut in. That voice hit her like a punch, yanking up every bright, warm memory from her youth’s best days… and every agonizing one from the worst. She cringed and forced her gaze up. Noah stood there, looking way too put-together for someone she’d once blamed for ruining her entire life. His eyes narrowed to slits, jaw set in a hard line, every muscle along his face tight with tension. “Olive Porter,” he said flat, no warmth, no emotion. That only made her angrier—annoyance piling on top of raw irritation. Truth was… he’d never ruined her life. She was the one who’d messed his up. “Lovely to see you again,” Gram greeted warmly. “Haven’t seen you back in town in ages.” Noah flashed his practiced, charming grin. “Adele, you look as great as ever.” Like every other woman he crossed paths with, Gram fell for his rugged, effortless charm, beaming bright. “You’re such a smooth talker, aren’t you.” She glanced at Olive. “Is your Matt half this sweet?” First off, Noah never had an ounce of soft sweetness in him—sharp, quick with jokes, thrillingly dangerous, yes. Sweet? No way. Second, why had she ever thought a fake boyfriend was a good idea? Why couldn’t she just admit she didn’t need a man to complete her life? She really didn’t, not one bit. Hindsight was a total cruel curse. “Matt’s way gentler and sweeter than you’ll ever be.” Noah just shot her a smug, taunting smirk, the infuriating man. “I need to talk to you alone.” Olive grabbed another cookie from the tray. “I’m busy right now.” But he’d already wrapped his fingers around her wrist, pulling her gently to her feet, leading her away with that uneven, strained limp. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through her chest at the sight of his limp. Stupid, traitorous heart. She must have made a tiny, involuntary sound, because he glanced back over his shoulder, caught the pained flicker on her face, and his own expression hardened. “Feeling sorry for me suddenly?” “Not even a little.” She bit down hard into the cookie she’d clutched mid-escape.