Chapter 5 Liam
The night of the race, Emily and I sat in the back of Noah’s old green Subaru waiting at a red light.
“I’m just saying,” Noah said from the driver’s seat, glancing at us in the rearview mirror, “I don’t mind playing third wheel chauffeur but don’t start making out back there.”
“We’re not making out,” Emily said from beside me, laughing.
“Yet,” I added, grinning at her.
She swatted my arm, but she was smiling. Then she leaned in and kissed me—soft and sweet, tasting like the cherry lip gloss she always wore.
I kissed her back, my hand finding the curve of her waist, pulling her a little closer in the backseat.
“You two are disgusting,” Noah said, as he turned onto Greek Row, the streets already lined with cars. “Also, I’m charging you gas money.”
I pulled away from Emily and laughed—glad to get a rise out of Noah.
“Put it on your dad’s card,” I said.
“You volunteered to DD,” Emily pointed out.
“Yeah, because someone”—Noah shot me a look in the rearview mirror—“should avoid getting arrested for public intoxication the weekend you destroyed Kingswell.”
A memory from a frat party last year flashed in my mind. I smirked. “That was one time.”
“One time too many.”
Emily looked between us. “Wait, what? When did you almost get arrested?”
“Last year,” Noah said. “Party got busted, Liam decided to argue with the cops—”
“I wasn’t arguing, I was explaining—”
“You were drunk and mouthy. Not a great combination.”
The three of us laughed.
“Yeah, well, speaking of getting destroyed,” I said, leaning forward between the front seats, trying to change the subject. “You’ve got that debate tournament next weekend, right? Against Kingswell?”
Noah smirked. “I certainly do.”
“I’m just saying—we beat them on the water. You gotta beat them in the library or wherever the hell you guys argue.”
“It’s an auditorium and you’d better be there.”
I slapped Noah on the shoulder. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, buddy.”
Noah smiled. “Different arena, same assholes.” He pulled into a spot half a block down from the house. “And when I win, you’re buying me ice cream.”
“Deal,” Emily and I said at the same time.
I turned and we caught each other’s eyes. And it was just all love. Noah threw the car into park and looked back at us just staring at each other. He made a guttural puking noise.
“Come on... let’s go before you guys start banging.”
We all hopped out of the car laughing and headed down the block toward the frat house. The cold night air felt good on my skin and I could already hear the music—bass thumping loud enough to rattle car windows, even from a block away.
When we got there, people were scattered across the lawn, red cups in hand, voices carrying through the night air.
The house itself was massive—three stories of old brick and white columns on a hill, “ΚΑΘ” in huge Greek letters above the door. Kappa Alpha Theta. Kingswell’s oldest frat, but weirdly, the one place where Riverside and Kingswell actually mixed without starting shit.
Some unspoken truce that had held for years.
Colored lights strobed through the windows, and someone had strung up cheap party lights along the porch railing, half of them burnt out. The front door was propped open, and I could see bodies packed inside, moving to whatever was blasting through the speakers.
Everything felt... good.
Almost perfect, actually. Like all the pieces were finally falling into place. I’d crushed Alex on the water. Emily’s hand was in mine. The team was riding high. For once, I wasn’t angry or anxious or second-guessing myself. I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
“Ready?” Emily asked, looking up at me.
“Hell yeah.”
We walked up the hill to the house and as soon as we stepped foot on the front porch we heard Tyler, with a red cup raised high. “MOORE! There he is!”
A few other Riverside guys echoed the cheer, and suddenly I was being pulled up the stairs into backslaps and shoulder shoves.
“Legendary, man,” Tyler said, grinning. “A full length. Coach is still talking about it.”
“Coach is here?” I asked, looking around.
“You think Hale comes to frat parties?” Remy appeared at my elbow, cup in hand, that sharp grin on his face. “Man’s probably watching tape from today.”
I laughed and Emily tugged my hand. “I’ll get us drinks. Noah, you want a Coke?”
“You’re a saint. I’ll come with,” Noah said.
They disappeared into the house.
“Thanks for the pep talk today. It helped.”
“And what did you decide...?”
I looked at him with confidence. “Neither. Just that I needed to beat him.”
“Well... it worked. I’m here for you, man.”
Remy and I shared a moment. He knew a lot, not too much, but he knew, and I trusted him.
“Let’s go in,” he said and started walking toward the door.
Remy looked at ease—oversized hoodie, skinny jeans, moving through the crowd like he owned the place despite being a foot shorter than most people here.
The house was exactly what you’d expect—sticky floors, the smell of cheap beer and cologne, music so loud you had to yell to be heard. Stairs leading up where couples were definitely sneaking off to.
“I’m going to get another drink,” Remy said as he parted a group of bros. “See you on the back deck for beer pong.”
Through the back windows, I could see a massive deck with several tables for beer pong—it was like a damn tournament out there. I guess I had a little more winning to do today.
“Yo, Liam!”
I turned. Evan—one of the freshmen who’d raced this morning—was pushing through toward me, red cup sloshing, that dark freckle on his cheek. Kid had rowed bow seat in the eight that crushed Kingswell earlier. Good rower. Great smile.
“Hell of a race today,” he said, a little breathless. “I feel like we’re unstoppable right now.”
“Appreciate it, man. You guys killed it out there.”
“Dude, I was dying in that chop,” Evan said, laughing. “But I remembered what you said at practice—about staying loose through the recovery when the water gets rough? Total game-changer. Like, I could actually feel the difference.”
Something warmed in my chest. “Yeah? That’s awesome. You looked solid from where I was.”
“Thanks, man. Seriously.” Evan’s grin widened.
The comment landed somewhere deeper than I expected. Evan had listened to my advice and it helped. He was learning from me. Coach said I was captain material. Standing here, with today’s win still buzzing through my veins, I could actually see it. Not someday. Soon.
It felt good. Real.
“Just keep listening and you’ll be unstoppable by spring,” I said, grinning.
“Hell yeah.” Evan raised his cup. “To beating Kingswell.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I said, then realized I didn’t have a drink.
Emily appeared at my side and pressed a cup into my hand. “Got you the good stuff. Well, the less-terrible stuff.”
“Thanks.” I smiled.
I tapped my cup to Evan’s. He gave a nod and drifted back toward his freshman crew friends, still grinning.
I took a sip. Definitely terrible. “Perfect.”
Emily laughed. “Good. Noah is arguing over the merits of bottom shelf liquor with some guy from Kingswell.”
“Also perfect.” I smiled. “I guess it’s just us then.”
“Come on,” Tyler called from the back. “They’re starting the tournament outside!”
Emily looked up at me, eyes bright. “Beer pong tournament?”
“You any good?”
“Please,” she said, mock-offended. “I have two older brothers. I’m great.”
I laughed and let her pull me through the crowd toward the back door.
***
The deck was huge—probably the reason this frat threw the best parties.
String lights crisscrossed overhead, half of them flickering, casting uneven light across four beer pong tables set up in a bracket formation.
A whiteboard propped against the railing showed team matchups, already half-filled with names.
Groups clustered around each table, cheering and trash-talking. Someone had dragged out speakers, and music thumped through the night air. The temperature had dropped, but between the bodies and the alcohol, nobody seemed to care.
“Yo, Liam!” Remy appeared out of the crowd, Evan trailing behind him. “You playing or just watching?”
“We’re in,” Emily said before I could answer.
Remy’s grin sharpened. “Perfect. You’re playing us first round.”
I looked at Evan, then back at Remy. “You sure you want that?”
“Oh, I’m sure. Somebody’s gotta take down the hero of the day.”
We took our positions at one of the tables—me and Emily on one side, Remy and Evan on the other. Someone from the frat filled the cups, and a small crowd began to gather.
“You know the rules?” Remy asked, rolling a ping pong ball between his fingers.
“Elbow behind the table, no leaning, first team to clear wins,” Emily rattled off. “I know the rules.”
“Damn,” Evan said, looking impressed. “We might be in trouble.”
“You are,” Emily said sweetly.
I loved this side of her—confident, playful, fully in her element. She lined up the first shot, tongue poking out slightly in concentration, and sank it clean.
The crowd erupted and I pulled Emily into a quick side-hug. “That’s my girl.”
Remy fished out the ball, unimpressed. “Lucky shot.”
“Sure,” Emily said. “Lucky.”
I went next, bouncing the ball once before it plopped into the front cup. More cheers. Evan groaned and drank two.
“Captain material on and off the water,” Remy said.
“Not yet,” I said.
“Yet,” Remy said pointedly. He lined up his shot, called it—“back right”—and nailed it. Of course he did.
I drank. The beer was warm and awful, but I didn’t care.
The game moved fast. Evan got one in, I matched him. Emily sank two in a row, and the crowd around us grew bigger and louder, people drawn by the energy.
Noah appeared behind me and Emily. “Winning all day, huh?”
“You know it,” I said.
“Come on, Remy!” someone from the Riverside crew shouted. “Don’t let them sweep you!”
“I’m trying!” Remy yelled back, missing his next shot. “Working with limited tools here!”
“Hey!” Evan protested, laughing.
It was close—closer than I expected. We were down to two cups each, the crowd pressing in tight, everyone yelling suggestions and trash talk. Emily’s hair had come loose from her ponytail, and she was flushed, grinning, absolutely locked in.
She leaned close, her shoulder against mine. “Front left. I’ve got this.”
“I believe you.”
She took the shot. The ball arced through the air in what felt like slow motion, bounced once on the rim of the cup—
And dropped in.
The deck exploded. Tyler started barking like a dog. Noah screamed like he was wasted but was just hyped on caffeine. I grabbed Emily and spun her around, both of us laughing as she shrieked.
“THAT’S HOW IT’S DONE!” Emily shouted, pumping her fist.
Evan drank, shaking his head. “You guys are disgustingly good at this.”
“One more,” Remy said, eyeing our last cup. “We’re not out yet.”
He lined up his shot with that same precise focus he brought to calling races. The crowd went silent. The ball flew—
And missed by an inch.
I didn’t even think. I just lined up and shot, barely aiming, riding the high of the moment, and tossed it.
Bam, it went in.
Chaos. Pure chaos. The Riverside guys swarmed us, Emily jumped into my arms, Remy was laughing despite himself, and Evan was already challenging the next team forming up at the table beside us.
I caught Emily as she slid down, both of us breathless and grinning like idiots. The lights overhead flickered, music pounded, and everything felt absolutely right.
She looked up at me, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. “We make a pretty good team.”
“The best,” I said, and kissed her.
The crowd around us whistled and cheered, but I barely heard them. For once, I wasn’t thinking about the next race, the next practice, the next thing I had to prove.
This was good. This was exactly where I needed to be.
Everything else? I was leaving it on that river.
The scholarship pressure. The constant grind to stay ahead. And the video. That fucking video.
I still hadn’t told Emily about it. Couldn’t tell her. She’d worry, freak out, try to fix it. That was who she was—she wanted to help, to solve problems, to make things better.
But this wasn’t her problem to solve.
This was mine. And I’d deal with it... eventually.
Tonight, though?
Tonight I was just a guy at a party with his girlfriend, winning at beer pong and not thinking about anything else.
Tonight was easy... and I needed easy.