# Catching Butterflies Chapter 3

~Catching Butterflies: Chapter Three~
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Well, here I am.
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I shift my car into park and take the keys out of the ignition, sweat budding on my forehead due to my car's poor air conditioning. Wiping it off with my hand, I look forward, out of the windshield; Everglade Park is in front of me, and it looks about as nice as it did on the internet. I open my door and step out of the car, shutting it firmly and locking the doors just in case. Standing in the mostly empty parking lot, I suddenly feel very out of place; I guess not many people visit parks at three o'clock on a weekday. As far as I can tell, though, I get no suspicious eyes from any nearby pedestrians. I look down at my phone, checking to see if I’ve received any messages from Olivia. None, it looks like. I guess I have time to kill. Between gazing at nearby trees and playing Snake on my phone, the next five minutes are filled with mindless efforts to waste time while occasionally checking my notifications.
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After roughly five minutes, I spot a vehicle pulling into the parking lot. Hoping it’s Olivia, I turn off my phone and lean against my car while examining the vehicle. It looks to be a beat-up sports car with a large crack in the windshield. I assume it’s not Olivia; she typically shows up at work in an old black SUV, and I can’t think of a single rational person that would drive a wreck like that instead of getting it repaired. The car pulls into a parking space about twenty feet away from me, and the driver side door opens to reveal a dark pterosaur with orange highlights. I would almost say he looks formal, but the floral pattern on his suit jacket evokes anything but professionalism. He doesn’t even seem to notice me, instead making for the trunk of his car. He opens it and lugs out some kind of metal cart, piquing my interest. I watch as he jostles the cart around for several seconds before it unfolds. I realize what I’m staring at now; a wheelchair.
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It all hits me like a brick wall. How the hell did I expect a paraplegic to drive a car? I have literally watched her be dropped off at work several times. I never even offered her a ride, she must've paid for an Uber here. Sure enough, the green baryonyx that I recognize all too well waves a hand from the now-opened passenger side door; not to me, but to the other guy. The pterosaur wheels the chair towards her, trying to assist Olivia into it with some difficulty. I decide I should probably apologize sooner rather than later; maybe I can still pay the driver with what little cash I could bring with me. It takes all but ten seconds of me walking towards the duo before they both notice me, and the pterosaur eyes me suspiciously, placing himself between me and Olivia as I continue. Eventually stepping within a few feet of the man, I stop and begin to speak. “Hey, I was actually g-“
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The pterosaur suddenly interrupts me accusingly. “Who the hell are *you*? What do you want?” I’m taken aback by his words, not sure how to respond to those questions. I try to formulate a diffused reply. “Well, uh.. my name is—”
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“Relax, Naser. That’s him.” I’m interrupted a second time by Olivia, who has wheeled herself to the side of the man. These words seem to ease tensions as the man drops his shoulders and sighs to himself. He looks tired, but not depressedly so; The kind of person who works too hard for their own good. Regardless, 'Naser' looks at me, haphazardly waving at me before speaking, “Yeah, okay. Sorry about that.”
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I look at his hand for a few seconds, trying to come up with an appropriate greeting. I offer the tried-and-true finger guns, snap included. This seems to confuse him, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he turns towards Olivia, rubbing the back of his head while speaking, “Just call me when you need me to get you, and.. where.” The awkward words linger in the air as Olivia stares at him, a grin forming on her face. “Yep, you’re the best, Naser.” He barely seems to recognize the compliment, instead nodding silently as he makes for the driver’s side of his car. There's no doubt he's distracted, or stressed about something; I feel a tinge of guilt for making him bring Olivia here.
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Looking at the pterosaur from behind, I get a good look at his wings; they follow the same coloration as the rest of his body, but one is noticeably smaller and covered in scars. I don’t know if they can actually fly, but if they can, I doubt he’d be able to. It’s then that I remember; Prom. Naser, he was the winner of Prom King, next to that orange sorbet girlfriend of his. I silently berate myself for not recognizing him earlier and decide to offer him a few words of kindness that I suspect he needs.
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“Hey.. Naser.”
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He turns around, looking at me quizzically.
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“Take it easy.”
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Naser looks to the side, as if considering what I said to him. In return, he offers a barely audible “Yeah.” He opens his car door and steps inside, getting ready to leave. Olivia and I clear the way, and Naser pulls out of space, offering a haphazard wave to the both of us from the window of his car before he leaves the parking lot altogether. This leaves me and Olivia standing on the asphalt, and marks the official beginning of.. whatever you’d call this.
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We both look at each other, and I notice that Olivia looks like she just woke up. She's wearing a pair of dark-purple sweat pants, combined with a black graphic tee that reads "BERSERK". I'm not sure what I expected her to show up in, but now that I think about it, I'm not sure she'd be able to wear much summer-appropriate clothing. Trying to prevent my mind from lingering on what Olivia would look like in a sundress, I consider my own clothes. A pair of jeans, a two-tone shirt that looks like it came straight out of the eighties, and a navy cap. Maybe I shouldn't be so judgmental with what other people wear. Also, now that I think about it, her eyes are oddly bloodshot; Is she just tired, or is she on something?
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"Uh.. Dude?"
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I blink myself out of the train of thought, and realize I've been staring at Olivia for the last twenty or so seconds. I notice the slightest tinge of a blush cross her face before we both seem to turn our heads in opposite directions. Hoping to clear the air, I motion towards the main path of the park, trying to speak casually. "We can go now, the.. flowers should be.. in full bloom." I had next to no idea if that was true or not, but Olivia seemed to recover quickly, offering a firm "Yeah, we'll see." in reply. We make it to the sidewalk, which winds through a collection of trees and rocks. With Olivia wheeling herself behind me as I walk slowly, I decide to make small talk to pass the time while we enjoy the scenery.
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"So.. Berserk, is that a band, or..." I trail off. Olivia responds almost defensively, "Nah, it's a.. book." Nodding, I reply, "That sounds cool. I don't really read much, not past the stuff from English." She shrugs, and my attention is pulled towards a large tree that we pass. I gesture to it, asking, "What kind of tree is that?" Olivia seems to awkwardly respond, "Pretty sure that's an oak tree." Conversing like this is physically painful. I figured the right questions would come to me, like they had in the past, but I'm drawing a blank right now. Olivia looks bored, but doesn't express any discontent and continues to move with me. I decide to try to get her talking; hopefully that'll give her more interest in the conversation.
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"So, where’d you meet Naser?”
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Olivia thinks for a few moments, eventually offering a matter-of-fact explanation. “Our dads know each other. We sorta have to be friends, but he’s real cool, so I’m not complaining or anything.” I reply in agreement, “He seems like a cool guy. By the way, sorry about not offering you a ride, I forgot—” Olivia interrupts me, waving her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
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But you had to get someone to- nevermind. Olivia looks at me with a hint of disdain, as if she had just read my thoughts, and I feel the energy leave me as we hit another speedbump in the conversation. I can only wish I was better at socialization, then I might be able to talk without patronizing the people I’m with. The next few minutes are relatively quiet, with only the light wind’s howls and the chirping birds to fill the silence. Olivia suddenly stops us, looking towards a particular flower that’s growing alongside the path. It looks yellow, like a cone with the flat side aimed toward the sun. Olivia bends forward and touches one of its leaves lightly, taking care not to shred it with her claws. I decide to break the silence with a question.
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“So what kind of flower is that?”
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Olivia turns to me, almost as if she forgot I was here at all. She looks solemn for a moment, but seems to cheer up in time to answer my question. “It’s a poppy.” My mind can only drift to some internet tabloid I read at some point about how various drugs are made. “Can’t you make opium from those?” Olivia almost snorts, stating, “No, not *these* ones.” A feeling of relief washes over me as I'm shown positive feedback, and I decide to continue with the topic. I ask, "So you like poppies?" She smiles, offering a gentle nod with her reply, "Yeah. I grow them for my.. dad. It's not too hard." Trying to be encouraging, I comment, "Maybe you can show me sometime." Olivia pauses, looking up at me with an expression I can't gauge. Did I say something wrong? Eventually, she turns away, asking me a question I'm not prepared for.
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"You mean, like.. you wanna come to my house?"
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Freezing for few seconds, I have no idea how to respond to the question. My first instinct is that she's teasing me, just like she used to. But the question sounded genuine; Is she inviting me over, or treating the idea like a joke? I don't even consider this a date, does she? How badly am I misreading all of this? I have no idea, but I try to force something out of my mouth for fear of an awkward silence further destabilizing our conversation.
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"W-Well, I mean.. y-"
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Suddenly, I'm interrupted again by a feminine shout that comes from over my shoulder. Both me and Olivia spin around towards the source, and it looks like a yellow dinosaur standing by a large metal cart is beckoning us over. Looking at Olivia, she seems just as confused as I am, but it's almost a blessing in disguise that she interrupted us when she did. I gesture towards the figure and try to gauge Olivia's response. Her skepticism drops, nodding towards me. We both move side by side towards the shouting dinosaur, trying to figure out what they want. Eventually, I get a better look at the person; a feminine dinosaur with a large tail wearing a revealing black tank top and a comically large chef's hat. There's some kind of ring tattoo on one of her arms, but before I can get a better look at it, she demands our attention with her pitch. "You two, strolling through the park on a summer afternoon? Yer on a date, ain'tcha?"
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My initial instinct is to deny the accusation, but Olivia, unlike me, doesn't seem to be phased by the teasing of this woman. She fires back quite quickly, locking eyes with her as she replies, "Yeah, what's it to you?" My best guess is that Olivia wants her off our backs quickly, but the way she agreed to the question seemed so natural. Suppressing my expression of embarrassment is difficult, but I have time to do so while the two ladies are speaking to one another. The stranger, whom I can only assume is some kind of vendor, offers Olivia a sultry smile. "Well, everything's twice as better with a few 'dogs, ain't it?" I'm not feeling particularly hungry, but Olivia turns her head and stares at me. This carries the gaze of the street vendor towards me, both pairs of eyes mounting an increasing amount of pressure on me. Eventually, I croak out the words "Y-Yeah, two hotdogs, sure."
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It doesn't take the vendor long to cook our franks, and Olivia excitedly requests all manner of condiments to go with hers; mustard, ketchup, relish and diced onions. This woman must be a miracle worker, because the bun manages to hold the assortment together, probably with the assistance of the tin foil its wrapped in. There looks to be an area to sit not far ahead of us, and Olivia mentions to me that she'll meet me there when I'm finished. This saddles me with the burden of cost, and my wallet groans at me. When the street vendor asks, I only request ketchup on mine. She eyes me with a hint of disappointment, off-handedly commenting, "That's it?" I shrug, content with my simplistic taste. I said I wasn't really hungry, anyway. She hands me the hotdog, and I turn to leave before she speaks up again.
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"So, still courting her?"
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I turn my head, trying to rummage through my mind for a response for the question. I wouldn't call us Romeo and Juliet by any means. In the end, I tell her, "I'm just trying to help a friend." She doesn't seem content with that answer, speaking like she knows me. "She must be stingy, if you're still not together." I can only blink blankly, allowing confused words to tumble from my mouth. "W-What do you mean? You know about us?" She giggles like a schoolgirl, despite her apparent age. "Don't worry about me. You better make a move sooner or later." With those words, she starts to pack up her cart. The way she speaks, as if we're old friends, is unnerving enough to render me silent. After paying with a few bills, I decide to go find Olivia and leave the vendor to her own devices. She isn't finished, though; still within earshot, she yells over to me one last time. "And if she doesn't work out, I'll always be here~"
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Raptor Jesus, save me. I find myself on autopilot down the path, holding the hotdog tightly in one hand as I keep my eyes on the gazebo in front of me. Luckily, no more amorous words strike me from behind, and I find myself calming down as I approach the gazebo where Olivia said she'd be. Already positioned under the awning that protects the area from the sun, she hurriedly motions me over. As I set my tinfoil-wrapped hot dog on the green metal table, Olivia speaks up nervously. "Hey.. do you think there's anything to drink around here?" Without an answer to her question, I look around the area and spot a vending machine by a bathroom relatively close by. I turn back to Olivia, and I'm greeted with puppy dog eyes of expectation. My wallet sheds a tear.
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Before long, we're both sat at the green metal table. Olivia, with her deluxe hotdog and off-brand can of soda, and me, with my barebones hotdog and bottle of water. She seems to be waiting for me to eat; I take off the tin foil and bite into the hotdog. To my surprise, it's better than I expected. Olivia certainly seems to agree, based off how she has begun to devour hers. I take a moment to collect myself. Based off of her response to the street vendor's assumption that we were together, I consider a straight forward approach of asking about what exactly we're doing here. I really just wanted to spend time with Olivia, hoping she was still into nature like she was ages ago. Worry leaves my head, and I can't help but stare at her eating unceremoniously with a goofy grin on my face and butterflies forming in my stomach. My absent-minded thought process is broken as I realize we've locked eyes. She breaks the silence before I can look away.
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"You're.. not eating?"
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Oh, right. In an act of appeasement, I pick up the hotdog and take another bite of it. She seems to stop eating for a moment while I do so, and I can't help but feel this is the best time to ask her what she meant back at the vendor, if anything.
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"So, uh.. we're on a date?"
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Olivia freezes like a deer in the headlights, looking directly at me for a few seconds. I do the same, hoping the question wasn't inappropriate and steeling myself in the event that she starts shouting at me. I'm almost positive I spot the faintest blush cross her cheeks, but she suddenly snorts, laughing somewhat as she replies.
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"Oh, right. What I told the girl. Dunno, are we?"
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The perfect deflection leaves Olivia with a teasing smirk and me with all the responsibility of answering the question. I don't have an answer- that's why I asked. I'm the one who invited her here, though, so it makes sense that I'm the arbiter on whether or not this outing is.. romantic. I don't want to dodge the question, but I still haven't figured out my own feelings. Even if I did, would now really be the best time to admit them? The words of encouragement by the street vendor begin to reverberate through my mind; 'You better make a move'. Is it even possible to do that here? As I think, I suddenly receive a hint of inspiration. The kind of exchanges we always used to have, the few times I've managed to make her speechless; the right words echo in my mind.
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"You'll know by the end of the night."
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These words, combined with my own uncontrollable smirk, cause Olivia to stop chewing. She swallows and tries to stay something, but stutters in embarrassment. A sense of victory flows through my body as I finally seem to beat her at her own game. I confidently re-shift my focus on eating the hotdog, despite my lack of hunger, only to give Olivia more time to process the statement. However, doubt begins to cloud my mind when I think about what I just said. Is toying with somebody like this affectionate or manipulative? She's done it to me for as long as I can remember, so I'm leaning towards the former, but we've never outwardly suggested being 'together' before. Maybe I just crossed a line. I look back to Olivia, already formulating an apology in my head, but it looks like she just finished. She hurriedly wheels herself towards a bin, tossing both the can and the tin foil into it and facing me.
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"C'mon, hurry up. We've barely looked at anything."
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I guess the time for apologizing has passed. I stand up, tossing away my garbage as well, and allow Olivia to take the lead this time. Our journey begins once again, this time uninterrupted by street vendors. I notice Olivia always makes an effort to stay ahead of me; not wanting her to tire herself out, I take my time admiring the picturesque view of nature. I can start to understand why Olivia was so into this stuff as a kid; it can either be relaxing or exciting, depending on how you look at it. The hot weather has cooled slightly since we've started walking, leaving a pleasant warmth that envelops my body and keeps me safe. It reminds me of my childhood. Taking in the world like this, pleasant memories mesh with the beautiful atmosphere around me, and I find myself in a state of mellowed euphoria. I lose track of time; before I know it, we're back at the parking lot, having made a full circle from the start of the walk. It's almost disappointing that we've reached the end of the park, but all good things come to an end. Olivia looks content with the trip, so any sense of worry over her leaves my body, and I yawn.
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"That was nice, wasn't it?"
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She looks at me directly and nods her head. "Yeah, haven't been out in awhile. Thanks." Those words are probably high praise from somebody like her, so I can't help but feel proud of myself. The first step of many; someday, we might be friends like we used to. No sense in rushing things, though. "Naser'll come get you, right?", I ask. She nods in reply, and while I still feel bad for getting him roped into this, I have no doubt he's doing it because he wants to. I jokingly suggest to her, "Maybe we could all hang out one of these days. Y'know, introduce me." Olivia just offers me a shrug, not approving of the idea, but not opposing it either. Sighing, I wipe the thought of meeting the guy from my head. Maybe later; he certainly didn't look like he has much free time. I spot my old silver car in the distance, right where I left it. I offer Olivia a smile and wave, letting my last words of the 'date' fill the air. "See you at work, then." I turn around and begin walking towa-
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"Wait."
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She says it right as she manages to grab my hand. I pause, turning towards Olivia in surprise. I wouldn't expect her to do something like that. She looks at me with a hard-to-read expression, speaking quietly. "You said I'd know by the end of the night." Recalling my words back at the table, I can only nod, trying to suppress any obvious emotional response. Did she decide? Whatever she's about to say might completely change our relationship. I can't help but swallow my own saliva, hoping that her feelings, in the end, mirror mine; a dice roll is a pathetic way to figure out how you feel about somebody, but it's all I have right now.
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Instead of receiving any sort of answer from her, I watch as Olivia's expression shifts into one of borderline malicious taunting.
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"Y'know, it won't be night for a couple more hours."
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~END~