Chapter 17 #2
She chuckled. “That’s the hope.”
I nodded, taking it all in. “Sounds like we both have a lot on our plates.”
She smiled faintly. “Apparently so. But I think we’re surviving.”
“Barely.” I glanced at the tank. “At least Sharkira has it easier than us. All she has to worry about is swimming from one side of the castle to the other without crashing into it.”
Livvi laughed softly. “True. She’s a little overachiever already, though. Did you see how fast she darted through that coral earlier?”
“I did,” I said, smiling.
“Not that I’m saying her name should be Sharkira, but I do think she needs a strong name like that.” She nodded toward the tank. “Something that can carry her through the tough times, even if it’s just swimming from one side of the castle to the other.”
I leaned back, smirking. “You really are trying to turn a fish into a life coach, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I just read too many books and admire the way characters survive impossible odds. They can be inspiring, and that’s what I hope she can be.”
A comfortable silence followed as we both watched our fish swim through the tank. It was obvious that Livvi had put a lot of thought into this whole fish thing, and I was grateful she cared so much. It was nice to feel like I had someone cheering me on, someone who was starting to mean a lot to me.
“Have you told Calico about this?”
We hadn’t talked about her friend Cali since I’d sent my own video to her, but I had a feeling that not much was held back between her and Livvi.
A look of surprise crossed her face. “This?”
I wasn’t sure why my question surprised her. “Yeah. About our fish.”
The relief that washed over her features was obvious. “Oh, yeah, of course. She’s excited to see what we name her.”
I worked to hide my smile as I sensed that she’d thought I was talking about a very different this, like, as in her and me. Which then made me wonder what she had been telling her friend about us.
“Although,” she continued, “who knows when we’ll finally decide on a name. I’m terrible at naming things. It seems easier to just keep brainstorming, hoping at some point I get it right.” She gestured to the fish in the tank. “Because if you name it wrong, you’re stuck with it forever.”
I froze for a moment, heart skipping. Those words—they sounded almost exactly like something I’d heard before. Or more like read before. Just last night, I’d been having a similar conversation about naming things with ReadToLiv.
ReadToLiv.
Liv.
Livvi.
No. No way. It couldn’t be.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her brows pulled together. “Was it something I said?”
I could only imagine the look on my face. A mix of shock, unbelief, suspicion, and possibly a little bit of fear.
“Uh …” I swallowed, trying to compose myself. “No. I just remembered something I forgot to do.” I looked away from her, not knowing where to go from here. My mind was reeling.
“Oh, okay. Well, um …” She fumbled, obviously feeling the shift in my mood. She stood, brushing off her jeans. “I should probably get going. I assume you have an early day tomorrow, right?”
I walked her to the door, trying not to sound like I was spiraling. “Yeah. I need to make sure I stay focused.”
“Yeah, of course.” She nodded, her voice quiet.
I opened the door, suddenly feeling like a robot.
Livvi hesitated in the doorway, her eyes searching mine. For what, I wasn’t sure. An explanation, maybe. Reassurance. Something I wasn’t sure I could give her right now.
“Good luck in Austin,” she said softly, like she was hoping to get back to where we’d been only minutes ago.
I nodded, managing what I hoped was a normal smile. “Thanks.”
We said our goodbyes, and when the door clicked shut behind her, I leaned my forehead against it for a moment, trying to get my breathing under control.
ReadToLiv. Liv. Livvi.
It shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow it felt like everything had just changed.
Eventually, I walked back to the couch and sat down, my eyes settling on the fish tank. The blue tang swam lazily in the soft glow, oblivious to the situation I found myself in.
Could it really be her? Could ReadToLiv actually be Livvi?
I shook my head, leaning back. What were the chances? It seemed too convenient, too perfect. How would two random people online meet and be not only in the same town, but also the same age, and accidentally meet in person soon after? It all seemed a little too planned. Right?
Pulling out my laptop, I logged in as TheWriteGuy, needing to check last night’s message thread just to make sure I wasn’t making all of this up.
I scrolled up and read the messages I knew would be there.
ReadToLiv
There is. But honestly, it made me realize I’d be terrible at naming things. Seems easier to keep brainstorming, hoping at some point I get it right.
ReadToLiv
Exactly. Like if you name it wrong, you’re stuck with it forever.
The words seemed to pop off the screen, taunting me.
My brain wouldn’t stop replaying everything—every late-night message, every in-person conversation with Livvi. Piece by piece, it all started clicking together, like someone had finally turned the light on in a dark room.
Gosh. It really was her.
And if it was her … did she know? Had she known this the whole time?
Was this her plan? Some kind of elaborate scheme to get to know me better? To trick me into opening up in ways I never had with anyone else?
Or would she be as blindsided as I was?
Her face flashed in my mind, the way she’d looked tonight when she’d realized something had shifted in me. There hadn’t been anything manipulative about her expression—if anything, she’d looked uncertain, like she wasn’t sure what she’d said wrong.
I dragged a hand over my face. I didn’t know what to do with this. With any of it.
And I didn’t have time to figure it out right now.
In less than forty-eight hours, I’d be on a plane to Austin for the most important meet of my career, one that could determine my chances to swim for Team USA or hang up my cap for good. I couldn’t afford distractions.
I glanced at the laptop again before shutting it completely and setting it aside. Maybe it was best to give both ReadToLiv and Livvi a little space—just until I had my head straight.
Because if I was right, if they really were the same person … I wasn’t sure what that meant.
For me. For her. For us.