CHAPTER TEN
LIAM
“So, what are we thinking for break coming up?” Taryn asks.
I don’t even acknowledge the question, my mind still spiraling from last night.
I barely got any sleep, and my entire tattoo room is filled with sketches of things, as I stayed here till four in the morning.
The dark circles around my eyes are vivid and the energy drink I had has made me more irritated than awake.
Summer break is a couple of weeks away, and usually I spend it with my parents back home. But now?
I have no idea what to do.
She’s returned to LA, living in a subdivision so close I could throw a rock from my window and probably hit her house. There’s only one grocery store close by without needing to get on the highway, so I know she’ll go there.
Should I stay here in my protective bubble?
Here, it’ll be a couple of months before she starts the fall semester, and with the campus being so large, it’ll probably be harder to run into her. Or do I go home, knowing that there’s almost a guaranteed chance I’ll see her again?
Am I ready for that? Will I ever be ready to see how she moved on without me? How she forgot about me?
“Luke and I are gonna party with the sorority girls that are sticking around for the summer, so we’ll be on campus,” Bobby says, and expectant eyes are on me as I glance up.
My brain blanks out on Taryn’s question. “I might go visit my parents back home,” I say, and they roll their eyes.
“Bor-ing. Why don’t you stay here and party with us, grouch?” Taryn asks and I look at her incredulously. She sighs. “God, you’re so dull. Like, live it up for once. Aren’t you a twenty-one-year-old college student?”
Sarcasm drips from her voice and I scowl at her. This is another reason why I don’t want friends. “I’m twenty, and I didn’t choose Mella Colta for the party scene, but because of the aerospace program. I’m content going home and sketching more—”
“Constellations and people with freckles all over their face,” they say together, and my face falls at the confession. Shock and confusion flash through me.
“How do you all know that?” I ask, and Bobby and Luke look at each other knowingly while Taryn looks at me without a care in the world.
“Well, we snuck a peek at your sketchbook, and it’s also pretty obvious given almost everything you draw has some relation to those two things,” she says, but cringes when a pen is thrown at her head.
She looks in Luke’s direction, but he pretends as if nothing happened.
“To be honest, I have no idea how you don’t get bored.
Also, there are a bunch of drawings of the same person.
She has straight brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles everywhere. What’s up with that?”
“That’s private,” I mutter, and Taryn looks like she wants to keep pushing, but the bell above the door rings. One of my regulars, Jimmy, walks in and I thank goodness for the distraction I so desperately need.
After a couple of hours, the corners of my mouth tip up as Jimmy flexes his forearm in the mirror, the fresh ink leaving his skin red, but the contrasting, stark-black lines very much apparent.
“Dude, this looks sick!”
“I’m glad you like it. It’s your last session, and I was able to get you out a bit earlier.
” He looks over his shoulder and nods at me, and I hand him the aftercare paperwork, even though he’s a pro at this point.
Walking with him to my door, we shake hands, and he approaches Taryn to pay.
Shoving my stuff in my bag, I grab it and lock my tattoo room this time, making a mental note that I can’t trust them around my private things, given that they don’t have any sort of respect.
Storming toward the front door, not looking at either of them, a hand is placed on my shoulder, and I turn around to see Bobby. He opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him.
“Don’t.” I leave the shop, wanting to cool off slightly.
Crossing the street, I make my way toward my dorm, hoping the walk helps.
Finally reaching my building and turning the corner, there’s a couple talking, and they pull away slightly.
I notice it’s Chase and his new flavor of the day, but I ignore them.
As I approach our door, I see it’s wedged open with one of his shoes.
I push into the room, kick the sneaker out of the way, and the door slams shut behind me. I sit on my bed, wanting to be alone.
My eyes fill with tears from the pent-up emotions and I’m practically shaking from them when I hear a knock.
“Liam?” Chase asks, and I scoff at his tone. “Dude, I don’t have my key, open up. I need to talk to you.” He jiggles the handle and my leg bounces up and down. I want him to be as far away as possible. “Li—”
“Go away, Chase,” I struggle to say in a calm tone, and a deep breath comes from outside the door.
“Look, I get you’re mad at me. I shouldn’t have pried, but Bianca is leaving, and I think—”
My heart picks up when I hear her name, but it makes me want to shut down even more. “I don’t care what you think, just leave me alone.” The knocking ceases, and while Chase isn’t my favorite person, I get he’s trying to be helpful . . . in his own stubborn way.
“She’s probably still in line at the parking garage. If you man up, you could catch her.” He finally leaves, and I put my hands in my hair, bring my head down, and take deep breaths.
Why? Why is she still getting to me? It’s been five years, but it feels like yesterday when we promised that we would always be there for each other. I look over at my keys, Chase’s words staying with me even after silence fills the room.
You can still catch her.
My heart and mind fight with each other. It’s almost as if I can hear what they’re saying.
Go, talk to her.
Stay, let her leave.
I make the choice. Grabbing my keys, I close the door before running toward the parking garage on the other side of campus. Everyone looks at me in confusion, but I don’t care. I need to see her again, talk to her, just something.
I’ve been given something I’ve been craving for five years, and my heart doesn’t wanna let it go.
I cut behind buildings and skirt around some bicyclists. I almost run into a skateboarder as I see a bunch of freshmen waiting for their cars. I try looking for her blonde hair, that specific ash blonde she’s dyed it now, but it’s nowhere to be found.
I crash into someone and turn to apologize before those all-too-familiar watercolor eyes lock with mine. Her eyes widen and my mouth curves the tiniest bit.
“You’re still here.” I breathe out, my chest bumping up and down as I struggle to take in some air, while she stares at me. A man waves at her roughly and my heart cracks slightly. But not before a woman wraps her arm around him and I recognize her as Ms. Kate.
Bianca twists her lips. “Look, I get this is unconventional. I’ll stay out of your way, and you stay out of mine.”
I take a deep breath as her words spark ones from long ago.
“Then maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore.”
My brain makes fun of me, proving that I’m right.
I made a fool of myself, again.
My reply dies the moment the guy—I assume something of Ms. Kate’s, given he wasn’t around when we were still in each other’s lives—grabs her forearm, surprising both me and her.
He looks me up and down snobbishly. “I apologize for her.” He smiles after, but the underlying irritation he has is obvious.
I’m not sure whether it’s directed at me or her, but I don’t like it.
The grip doesn’t seem like he’s hurting her, but shock is all over her face when facing him.
“I will not be late because of you, let’s go.
” He emphasizes the last two words, but before I can do anything, they walk off while he changes his grip.
I back away when I very clearly see Ms. Kate hug Bianca, slightly concerned, before she shrugs it off. The protective feeling doesn’t lessen even when they all begin to walk away and Bianca never looks back.
I’m left with the words that she plans to stay out of my way, which I should be glad about, but for some reason, I’m not. I stay frozen to my spot. Everyone is walking around me, but I keep looking as they fade from view.
I knew I should’ve left it alone.
I walk to Greek Row since it’s closer than my dorm room across campus.
I enter the frat house, upturning my head at some of the other guys before going up the stairs to Chase’s room.
Emotions course through me and the energy is starting to wear off.
Exhaustion comes out to play, feeding off my mental state.
The part that not many people talk about is how different it feels to be talking with someone you used to know.
There was once upon a time that I couldn’t imagine living life without her, and now, I can’t believe I have.
I sigh at the feelings swirling in my heart and mind.
One of the other things I’ve stowed in this room, out of sight, out of mind, are my old sketchbooks, which are now peeking out from where I stuffed them in the closet.
The ones Mom packed in my suitcase when I was coming up here. The ones I haven’t touched since.
Standing, I move to grab each of them, beginning to flip through them, further breaking my heart, yet I don’t care.
There was a time I died on the hill that I would never see Bianca again, and now that I have, all our memories before the fight have been bombarding me.
I look down at the hours and hours of work, tears running down my cheeks.
Flipping to the last page, there’s a folded piece of paper taped to it.
Confused because I don’t remember what it is, I open it gently and see her writing, and more tears make their way down my face.
Dear Liam,
It’s been a bit since we’ve written letters to each other, but I wanted to do it so you could have a more recent letter from me. I wanted to say I hope you do amazing at football tryouts, and I’ll be waiting for your call. I love hearing your voice . . . always.