Chapter 30
It’s the morning of the Harvest Festival, and the chaos has already begun. Public Relations is here to set up, and since we're partnering with Leadership, we’ve got double the workload—games, booth maps, food truck placements, ticket counters.
Liv looks like she needs more than just a caffeine boost. She needs a full pot. Maybe two.
I hold out my tumbler to her. “More coffee?”
She eyes it suspiciously, like I might be handing her a trap, but takes it anyway and downs a hefty sip. Immediately, her face scrunches.
“What?” I ask, grinning.
She coughs once and holds the cup away from her like it's poisonous. “Is that black coffee?”
“Yeah, so?” I laugh and start unwrapping the fabric for our booth’s canopy. We’re doing a “Weird and Bizarre Local History” booth. She’s got a whole basket of freebies lined up: town-name pencils, brochures, a couple of koozies.
“I think I just saw God,” Liv wheezes.
I shake my head and reclaim my coffee. “I quite like it.”
“Yeah, okay.” She spins on her heel. “I’m gonna go find some actual coffee.”
She heads toward the folding tables at the far end of the quad, where breakfast is laid out. Bagels, donuts, OJ, blessedly normal coffee. I watch her go, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
She returns with a steaming cup in hand and an expression of pure bliss. She hugs it close like it’s a long-lost friend, inhales deeply, and sighs.
“Mmm.”
This girl’s been making me laugh all morning. And somehow, she’s also managed to catch me completely off guard.
“How’s your grandma been this week?” she asks, sipping again. “She was so lovely. I hope she didn’t mind me showing up. I really just meant to drop off your gift and leave.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I tell her. Then I pause. “But… she’s not my grandma.”
Her brows pinch. “Oh! She’s your mom? I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
I blink at her, then burst out laughing. “Oh God, Liv. No.” I’m laughing too hard to breathe properly. “Not my mom either.”
She crosses her arms and glares. “What’s so funny about that?”
“She’s not my mom,” I say again, wiping at my eyes. “She’s… well, I’m a foster kid.”
The air shifts. She’s silent, and in that silence, my heart pounds.
“Okay?” she says after a beat, tilting her head.
I stare at her. “Okay?”
“I’m just… confused what the problem is,” she says, casually sipping her coffee like I didn’t just drop something huge in her lap.
I pause. Why did I just tell her that? I let out a shaky breath. “There’s no problem. She adopted me. I just, I’ve never told anyone that before. But I wanted you to know.”
“Oh,” she says, eyes wide. The shock lasts a second before her whole face brightens. She sets down her coffee, climbs over the booth counter, and throws her arms around me.
“Thank you for trusting me with that.”
That’s when it hits me. I do trust her.
My arms wrap around her, pulling her close, and suddenly, I don’t want to let go.
She pulls back and smiles up at me. “What do you say we finish setting up this booth?”
I nod, still a little stunned. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”