Chapter 13. Liam
The rest of the day is really strange.
Ethan isn't coming back for a while. He can't say how long, but he's doing the overnight shift, which means he isn't even going to sleep at the facility. That thought is completely insane to me, and horrible, because I hate sleeping alone. We always share his bed and sleep tangled up together.
During MMA, I push through the session with as much energy as I can fake, because Griff is like a dad to all of us — which is annoying most of the time, honestly, because he always wants to make sure we're okay, and the truth is we're kind of always not okay.
I don't want that conversation. So I go as hard as I can against Jack, and when I have to rotate partners, I end up with Reed.
I don't love sparring with Reed. The guy is a maniac.
You can never tell if he's in a good mood and will go easy on you, laugh, maybe even teach you something, or if he's just going to beat the shit out of you.
Most of the time it's the second option.
He's the best fighter in the place and sometimes gets bored by how far below him everyone else is, so he entertains himself by going harder than necessary.
And since he's the director's nephew, Griff can barely punish him — best case scenario is a talking-to that Reed openly ignores.
Sometimes Reed is cool. But given his reputation as a loose cannon, keeping your distance is the smarter play.
Except this time he calls me over, and I want to prove to Griff I'm doing great, thank you very much — I'm even bouncing on my heels. Nobody who's not okay bounces on their heels. My logic is airtight.
When I get in front of him, I notice he's picked a spot on the mat a little further from the others. Near the wall, away from the other pairs. He smiles at me with those vaguely murderous eyes.
He's incredibly hot. Massive — definitely on something, has to be.
Tattoos all the way up both arms, neck, stomach, which I try not to stare at when he takes his shirt off to spar.
There's a scar on his face that makes him look even more threatening and somehow even more attractive.
Ethan hates his guts and gets jealous about it, so I usually keep my distance when I can help it — especially since the year before Reed had made a move on me, which I'd obviously turned down.
I would never hurt Ethan on purpose. I love Ethan.
I would do anything to stay with him forever.
I just need to stop reminding myself that forever probably isn't on the table.
I don't react when Reed looks me up and down with that smile and says, "Looks like Daddy's not here today."
He says it while bouncing from foot to foot, warming up, then adds: "Get in your stance. I'm going to start throwing and I don't want you falling apart on me."
I do what he says, raising both fists in front of my face.
"He got a placement at a hospital," I say, slipping two punches. "Doing his clinical hours."
I don't know why I tell him that. It isn't a secret, sure, but I also don't need Reed knowing Ethan's business. Reed raises his eyebrows.
"Interesting," he says, and throws another shot I barely get out of the way of. It's that fast. If it had landed, I'd have a black eye for a week. Griff always says that's fine, that MMA builds character.
"So you're on your own," he says. Not a question.
I shrug. "I mean, he's coming back."
"I know he's coming back. But you know that's just for a while until he leaves again for good, right?" He pauses mid-combination. "You thought about that?"
I look at him hard. It’s one thing when my own brain throws that in my face. It’s another hearing it from Reed.
He seems to realize he's gone too far. Stops bouncing for a second.
"My bad," he says.
I wasn't expecting that at all.
"It's fine," I say.
The truth is he probably knows what that feels like. He lost Mason too when Mason got transferred. But I don't expect any kind of empathy from Reed. I don't expect anything from him.
"Hey," he says. "If you're feeling lonely, you can hang around me."
That's even more shocking. It doesn't sound sarcastic. He means it, like having just given me shit has handed him a moment of actual conscience.
I'm not going to ruin it. Especially since he can still hit me hard enough to put me to sleep.
"Thanks," I say, and I mean it.
We keep training. This time he slows down, stops, and says, "Look, you're dropping your guard here."
He takes my hand and repositions it. No roughness at all, which is genuinely shocking coming from him.
"Thanks," I say again, and settle into the stance the way he's shown me.
He smiles, satisfied.
"There you go. You pick things up fast."
I don't know why that makes me blush. Stupid, embarrassing reaction. I don’t want to admit that his approval feels way too good. But he notices. He laughs.
Later in the rec room, things are even worse.
Jack has been in a rough place lately. You can never tell if he's going to be okay or depressed.
That whole situation with his sister maybe losing the tattoo shop has gutted his future as an apprentice there.
He'd had the self-awareness to go talk to Griff about it — which, I have to say, is completely out of character for him, because Jack is usually the class clown who deflects everything with a joke — and Griff is so proud he actually brings it up at morning assembly, with Jack's permission: "I want to share that Perry came to me because he was struggling, and we're going to start sessions with Dr. Herrera. Good on you, Perry."
Jack actually looks proud up there in the spotlight. If it had been me, I would've died on the spot.
I'm glad he's taking care of himself. But it also means there are still days when he's doing badly and just doesn't show up to rec. That looks like one of those days.
I look around the big old gym. No Jack at the busted trampoline, no Jack at the basketball hoop, no Jack at the Mortal Kombat machine or the foosball table or the card tables.
Actually, there's nobody there I know well enough.
I've been at Aspire long enough to know everyone by sight, but my actual people are Ethan, Jack, Miles, and Harry — Miles is serving detention, and Harry is too much of a bastard to have a real conversation with.
I feel like a loser with nowhere to be.
I think about going back to the room — we're allowed to stay there instead — but I know I'll just be more depressed alone.
Jack won't be there. When he doesn't want to talk to anyone he disappears into corners of the facility I probably don't even know about.
Ethan would've known. Ethan knows every inch of this place.
That's when I hear a voice next to me.
"Hey, pretty boy. You on your own?"
Reed. We'd all showered after MMA, and he's in a black facility tank top that shows off those enormous arms, the gray sweatpants that hide nothing, dark hair still damp, eyes bright.
"Hey, Reed," I say, trying not to sound weird.
"Come hang with us. Don't stand there in the corner just because Daddy's not around."
"Actually I was thinking about going back to the room. I'm kind of tired."
"No way," he says. "I know you're bummed about being alone. And I get it. It's shit. I felt the same way when Mason left." He says it like it's nothing, and I'm surprised he admits it out loud. "Being by yourself doesn't help. Come meet my guys. We can play foosball. You know how?"
I nod.
"You don't have to play if you don't want. Just come hang."
I raise my eyebrows. I wasn't expecting him to be this decent about it.
We go over to his usual table. His guys are all built like him.
One is Santana — shaved head, cobra tattoo on his skull, which I think is genuinely badass.
Another one they call Daniel, Black, just as tall as Reed, dreadlocks, sleeve tattoos, and teeth so white they can't possibly be natural.
He smiles when he sees me. The third is Gabriel, heavyset, round glasses, looks like good people.
All of them smile and we do the whole handshake thing.
Reed drops into his seat and says, "You guys probably know Liam. He's flying solo today so I pulled him over." He introduces everyone by name even though I already know them.
"Bro, you're really good at MMA," Santana says. He's in the class too. We've gone against each other a few times without ever really talking.
"Shit, if I'm good, imagine what bad looks like," I say.
They all crack up like it's actually funny.
We talk for a long time. Mostly about this girl Gabriel is convinced is waiting for him, while Daniel keeps saying "man, give it up already." Then Santana tells the story about the time he sold drugs to a cop who never arrested him because he didn't want to lose his connect. Everybody laughs.
Reed says, "I fucking hate drugs."
I'm surprised, because I could've sworn that he was into them.
"You know those steroids you're always taking are basically the same thing, right?" Santana pokes at him.
Reed smacks his hand. "I've said it a hundred times: I don't take anything. This is all training. You have no idea what actual effort looks like," he flexes his arms.
They keep roasting each other, but I believe Reed. Something about how he says it makes me sure he isn't lying.
"What about you, Liam? What's your thing?" Daniel asks. I shrug. I don't know if I have a thing, which is depressing.
"Liam definitely sneaks off to have a ton of sex, I'm calling it," Reed says before I can answer. I feel my face heat up, which is the most humiliating thing that can happen to a person.
"Where did you get that idea?" I say.
"Come on. I know Ethan. The man has an office. There is no way you two aren't going at it like rabbits in there."
"Speaking of Ethan, where is he?" Daniel asks.
I tell them about the clinical placement.
"That's sick," he says, and I'm glad nobody makes any comment about Ethan maybe not coming back. I need something else to think about.
We end up playing foosball, and I'm way better than I expect.
Reed plays the way he does everything: loud, theatrical, yelling, slamming the table, to the point where guards come over to tell him to calm down.
He has no strategy beyond brute force, which somehow makes it hilarious, and he doesn't give a shit about losing to me and the guys over and over.
Every time he loses, he says something like "you just wait, I'm putting toothpaste in your bag and when you go to get your notebooks out it's going to be all over everything. "
I wasn't expecting Reed to be like this. I realize I genuinely don't know him. And the strangest part is how much he reminds me of Ethan in certain ways. What he'd said about drugs, about not using steroids, and then just going out of his way to make sure I wasn't alone.
When rec ends, I want to say something to Reed, thank him somehow. But it feels like it would come out wrong. So I just say:
"Can I hang with you guys again?"
That's enough for him to break into this huge dopey grin that looks a lot like a golden retriever. But of course he isn't going to let it go that easy.
"You're gonna be all mine while Daddy's away," he says.
I laugh. It's funny. Ethan, grumpy bastard that he is, would absolutely lose his mind if he heard that.
When I get back, Jack is there reading Batman comics and doesn't look sad — but he always puts on a clown face just so we won't worry. We don't talk much, and soon the guard makes the rounds to check we're in bed, and the lights shut off automatically like every night.
Ethan's bed stays empty.
Even though the night has turned out better than I expected, my chest is tight and aching. There's only one person in the world I want a hug from right now, and it's him.