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Olive is smart.
Smart enough to be smart in her own right - not smart for a girl, or smart with a ‘but’ tacked onto the end, or even smart only when her father is happy (which doesn’t seem to happen a lot these days anyway.) It's an irrefutable fact that no one can diminish or deny, try as they might. (Or maybe they don’t. Maybe the only person who doesn’t quite believe that Olive is smart or good is herself.)
People often like to attribute her intelligence to what they assume is a natural inclination for reading dictionaries. Parents point at her well-loved oversized Merriam-Webster dictionary as she reads and say things to their children like, “Look at that little girl, she's so studious! If she can read a dictionary for fun, so can you.”
As if it were all that simple.
Like loving her dictionary was as simple as that, like it wasn't something she has dedicated so many hours of her life to, like she read it only to be “smart”. Her dictionary wasn't just a book that she liked to read, it was something comfortable and safe and something akin to a blanket she could hide under. The world was so infinitesimally less scary when she knew how to put words to feelings, thoughts, people. If she could grip the pages and if she could trace each curve of the word ‘tender’ and think about her heart beating softly in her chest, then she was okay.
(The word ‘tender’ lies on page 567, whose edges are just a shade more yellowed than the others with a few tear stains scattered across the page. The word is a particular favourite of Olive in terms of how it makes her feel - she has many favourites - because it makes her think of warmth curling around the small of her back and being held, cradled, gently. It's a feeling she can't quite place, the warmth and fuzziness that settles in and accompanies the ache in her chest isn’t something she’s seen defined.
The word ‘tender’ encapsulates everything she hopes to be, to feel. Olive doesn’t even know what that means to her exactly, but she’s pretty sure it has something to do with being kind.)
Olive can't say a sense of pride doesn't swell in her chest when she hears a compliment in any shape or form, even though she knows it's at the expense of putting down someone else. Small coils of guilt knot themselves in her gut, but she can’t help herself from basking in the validation and self-satisfaction. It soothes the incessant voice in her head constantly wondering if anything she’s doing is enough - her eye contact, to the plastered smiles, carefully scripted lines for conversation - if only for a little bit. She never corrects them or tries to answer questions about why she even started reading the dictionary in the first place.
After all, there's a reason she doesn’t really talk about why she loves her dictionary and its well-worn pages so much. It's not something she's supposed to say for a multitude of reasons. Olive has long since learned that it's wrong to overstep, and that means it's wrong to talk about herself and what she likes unless she's asked, because that's annoying. Telling the truth would also mean that she'd have to answer even more questions, which would just make the entire thing a bigger problem. Answering why she handles her dictionary so carefully would be the same as answering why she flinches when someone raises their hand a little too close, a little too fast- they're the same question really. As much as she hates lying to other people, the other option is far, far worse.
Which is why it makes it all too hard to explain to William why she's crying right now. It's already hard enough given the fact she can't even breathe right, as she can do nothing but sob while gesticulating pointedly at the empty space in her bag where her dictionary should be.
She hates that she can't even get a proper word out to explain anything because she'd really like this whole thing to be over now. There's mucus building up in her nose and it's really uncomfortable because she doesn't have any tissues- and she just wants it to be quiet. She just wants to be in her room with the lights dimmed, curled up under a blanket, with her knees tucked into her chest and a plushie pressed to her face. All she wants right now is to be at home with her mom, clutching her-
Olive's train of thought only makes her burst out into a louder sob as she looks at William’s increasingly distressed face through her tear-filled vision.
“Olive?! What's wrong?!”
She honestly feels a little bad for William because he looks a little helpless as his panicked eyes dart around, presumably looking for someone to help. Olive would love to comfort him and say she's fine and that this whole situation is fine, but that would just be lying. William's the first real friend she's had, and she doesn't want to just lie to his face, even if it would save herself from embarrassment and being a burden. That is without mentioning the fact that she is in fact crying uncontrollably, and therefore rendered incapable of forming coherent speech. There's also the considerably more important fact that Olive really doesn't care about anything else right now because of the fact that her dictionary is gone.
She doesn't even know where it could be. She had definitely had it in her bag in the morning. She had definitely had it during recess. But the rest of the day was a blur now, and Olive had no idea when or where she could have lost her dictionary. There was no one she could ask since William didn't even go to school with her.
“Olive?”
Olive sinks to the ground and pulls her knees to her chest, fingers still gripping the strap of her bag tightly. She knows that just sitting on the ground won't help her find her dictionary, but there isn't anything else for her to do. There's no point in doing anything. She's never going to find her dictionary. She can't go home, she can’t go home.
It wouldn't be too bad to just sit here in the middle of the sidewalk for the rest of time.
Olive watches William shuffle awkwardly on his feet in the periphery of her blurry vision. As minutes pass, all he really does is trace out things with his feet. It’s a habit she’s observed from him, whether it’s a conscious choice or not, he always defaults to spelling out words with his foot. He doesn't try to say anything else and he knows better than to touch Olive as she gently rocks back and forth.
Slowly, the sobs die down until she's left hiccuping every so often.
It's a little easier to breathe now and she exhales a trembling breath. Olive grips the strap of her bag tighter before releasing in an attempt to ground herself. She watches William's foot tap against the ground for a minute or two more before she looks up at his face. The tears have dried on her face, leaving the skin feeling almost taut and it's slightly uncomfortable-but not exactly sticky- so it’s not as bad as it could be.
Olive finds the words she wants to say and breathes them out first- barely a whisper, before clearing her throat and saying it more clearly. “I- I lost my dictionary.” Her voice cracks a little, but she's glad she can at least explain herself.
William startles, just a little bit. He had clearly been a little lost inside his own head as he blinks and his eyes flick to Olive's. She sees his eyebrows furrow as a look of confusion takes over his face. He opens his mouth to say something and then closes it. He pauses, before opening his mouth again. “Do you know where you lost it?”
There’s a pause while Olive musters the energy to shake her head numbly.
“...can’t you just buy a new one?”, William continues.
Olive's hands clench, and she stops herself from letting out a cry of frustration or anger or anguish or hopelessness or maybe it's a bit of everything. She doesn't know the words to explain the fact that she needs her dictionary. Another dictionary would be different- without the yellowish cream edges of her most beloved pages, the warped crinkles where her tears once fell, the coloured tabs on the pages of her favourite words- because it wouldn't be hers. Even if it were the exact same in terms of functionality- her beloved indented border and all- it wouldn’t be the same to her. It doesn’t matter that she can get a new one, because the problem is that she lost her dictionary.
Her dictionary had been her first friend before William.
Her dictionary had always been there with Olive to break up the suffocating silence that seemed linger in each room of her house.
Her dictionary was the only thing Olive could rely on to be there for her. Always.
Olive is not brave. Far from it. But the closest she ever gets to it is when she's holding onto her dictionary. So if she doesn’t have her dictionary, how is she supposed to go home?
But she doesn’t say any of that. She’s not supposed to. She knows that William probably has some idea of what her family’s like and what that means for her at home, but she still doesn’t know how to explain all these feelings churning in her chest; what it’s like to be alone.
The silence stretches longer and longer between them, before William clears his throat again. He tentatively asks, “Do… Do you want a hug?” His voice awkwardly trails off and it’s clear that he’s unsure of himself, but the fact that he’s still sticking around for Olive is… it means a lot to her.
Not to mention that a hug would actually be really nice right now.
Olive slowly nods her head, her knees still pressed to her chest and her eyes staring ahead at William’s feet. She watches as he kneels in front of her and inches his way forward until he’s in reach to wrap his arms around her. It’s a pretty awkward position, she’s sure, with her legs between the two of them, but he still pulls her into his chest and oh.
It’s at times like this that she’s reminded of how long it’s been since she’s been hugged. She doesn’t even remember when it last was, but she knows that fact alone speaks volumes. William’s arms are tense as his hands hesitantly pat her back, but Olive doesn’t mind. She all but melts in his hold and she feels some of her panic and worry wash away. Sure, she’s still upset about the fact her dictionary is gone, she still doesn’t know what she’s going to do, but-
It’s nicer than she thought it would be - being hugged.
Olive’s eyes close as she leans into the hug and she thinks about her mom smiling at her, a warm blanket wrapping around her body, a sense of calm washing over her.
She’s not entirely sure how long they just stay in that position, but after some time she feels William straining to check his watch over her shoulder and reluctantly pulls back for his sake. As much as she would have wanted to stay there a little longer, it couldn’t have been incredibly comfortable for him. The realisation that he had still endured it nonetheless to comfort her fills her with a fuzzy sort of feeling and something akin to giddiness, tugging at the edges of her lips.
She still couldn't really speak- something she is reminded of when she opens her mouth to try- so she settles for mouthing a ‘thank you.’
William's discomfort seems to ease a little bit at the sight, and he rises to his feet. Olive stays on the ground for just a moment longer before following shakily, pulling her bag up with her. Her arm shoots up to latch onto his arm to steady herself before she knows what she's doing. To his credit, William only startles a little bit and he doesn't pull away from her.
He glances at his watch a second time before meeting her eyes. He winces apologetically, “I- I have to go home now. Sorry Olive.”
Olive still finds herself missing the feeling of the hug, even though it already feels like a massive weight has been lifted off her chest. It's just that… the hug still wasn't enough to completely smother the sharp fear that courses through her at the thought of going home. The moment was over and she would still have to go home. It would be scary but she could get through it. She was… Olive could be strong. She still can't help but sniffle softly as it dawns on her that she's going to have to go home now.
William seems to notice her apprehension, the way she seems to curl in on herself again. They let the silence between them sit for a while longer, which he seems to use to mull over something - not that Olive is paying much attention to him right now. She's preoccupied by the ground and her feet as she reviews her options. Her eyes suddenly dart from the ground to his bag at the sound of him tugging his zipper open. His eyebrows furrow slightly as he digs around in his bag for something. Eventually he seems to find what he's looking for with a soft ‘aha’, and he quickly pulls it out.
It's… a mini pocket dictionary- no larger than 13 centimetres tall and 7 centimetres wide.
William holds it out to Olive expectantly, “I can't help you find your dictionary, but you can have mine for the time being… that is, if you want it.”
Olive slowly reaches out a hand to grip the spine of the book, suddenly feeling that warmth again. She sniffs, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She doesn't even know what to say. She doesn't even- where is she supposed to find the words to tell William how much this means to her? She doesn't want to cry again but she's just- she's just so happy.
William flinches slightly and a panicked expression takes over his face again. Before he can say anything, Olive brings him into a tight hug as tears roll down her face. He stiffens but he doesn't make a move to push her away. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely being louder than a breath. She pulls back and he seems to relax more when he sees how she's grinning.
Olive pops the dictionary into her bag, before zipping it up. She wipes her tears away with the back of her hand and grins widely at William again. ‘Thank you so much’ she mouths, practically bouncing on her toes. She turns in the direction she needs to head in to get to her house, before waving at William enthusiastically. He's still a little stunned and waves back stiltedly.
There's still an underlying feeling of worry within Olive's chest. She doesn't even know where her dictionary could be, and she still needs to note down all of the places she went to today- to check tomorrow. There's also the fact that she doesn't really know what she'll do if she can't find it and she's lost it for good. She doesn't even want to entertain the thought.
But, it really does make it easier to be brave, when she knows she's not alone.