Chapter 33
Quinn
August, Senior Year
Quinn was a goddamn mess.
She’d gone home for the first half of the summer, but decided to come back to their empty apartment when she couldn’t stop snipping at her siblings, at her parents, taking out her terrible mood on them.
At least at the apartment, she only had herself to beat up, though she felt guilty using it considering Liv’s parents had covered the rent for the summer after Liv made the case that it was easier than having to move out and back in again.
The distance that summer had felt different.
She and Liv were still constantly communicating, but it was surface level, short.
Quinn felt raw all the time, an ache knowing that Liv was at home, with her people, with the guy she had every intention of marrying.
She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t want to know how Liv’s summer was going.
Because if she was having a great summer, if she was living her best life with this guy, that might ruin Quinn.
And if Liv was as miserable as Quinn was, well…
She would never want that for Liv, would never wish her hurt.
Maybe she was short in her responses, too. And maybe Quinn had even missed some of their scheduled phone calls. Maybe part of the reason that she was so upset was because she wasn’t holding up her end, because she knew, really, she knew , that she wasn’t even being a good friend to Liv.
She thought she was doing a good job, though, of being around Emma and the others on the team, of pretending to be okay.
She was her normal, smiley self, thank you very much, and she was managing her emotions.
It was nobody’s business that she wasn’t okay, that she was spiraling.
Nobody’s business if she was circling back to the gym at her apartment each night to run on the treadmill until she exhausted her body enough that she could pass out, regardless of what it was doing to her training.
So, when Emma knocked on her apartment door early on Saturday morning, the day before Liv was scheduled to fly in, Quinn just looked at her in confusion, because she had no reason to be at the apartment.
They’d met almost every Saturday of their college career to swim slow laps in the pool.
It didn’t make sense that Emma had shown up, unprompted, at Quinn’s door, standing there with a concerned expression, holding a pillow, a blanket, and two grocery bags, the contents currently hidden to Quinn.
“I thought we were meeting at the pool,” Quinn said.
“We’re taking today off,” Emma replied, pushing past Quinn. She stopped in the kitchen, setting one of the bags on a shelf in the mostly bare fridge, and then plopped herself down on the couch, chucking her pillow on the end and throwing her legs up, making herself at home.
“I’d prefer not to,” Quinn told her, picking up her gym bag. “If you want to hang out here, that’s fine, though. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, okay?”
Emma maintained eye contact in what could only be described as a stare down. “Coach asked me to talk to you.”
Oh, sure. Because Emma was the team captain this year. Quinn had basically campaigned for her, hyping her up with the team and the coaching staff, and she’d won the vote overwhelmingly.
“About?” Quinn asked.
“You’re running yourself ragged and posting slower times than last season, and my dear, beautiful friend, you look like shit,” Emma answered honestly .
“Well, that seems a little uncalled for,” Quinn replied, rolling her eyes.
“I could be meaner if you want,” Emma responded.
She patted the cushion next to her and waited patiently until Quinn sat down before she pulled the blanket over each of them.
“I’m not going to make you talk to me. But you are going to rest this weekend.
I brought over snacks, and I’ll make lunch and dinner later, and we can watch movies or reality TV, and you’re not allowed to be out of my sight for longer than a quick trip to the bathroom. ”
Quinn held her gaze again before cracking. “Okay, I want to be mad…but it’s kind of hot when you boss me around.”
“Oh, I know,” Emma replied, winking at her with a naughty grin.
Quinn settled in with Emma, allowing her to be a distraction.
She brought Quinn’s favorite candy—Reese’s Cups and Mike and Ikes, which Quinn affectionately referred to as Mike an’ Dykes—and Emma fed her two real meals, and they watched about a half dozen cheesy rom-coms and very loudly didn’t talk about what was really bothering Quinn.
At least, not until that night, after dinner and well into another film, when Quinn looked up at Emma and finally asked, “Have you talked to her much?”
“Mmhmm, I have, almost every day,” Emma replied, pausing the movie and turning her whole body towards Quinn, recognizing the importance of this talk. “She’ll be here tomorrow?”
“She will,” Quinn confirmed.
“Have y’all not been talking?” Emma asked, trying to be gentle.
“We have. Also pretty much every day,” Quinn said. “But it feels different.”
Emma took a long time to respond. “Yeah. She’s been a little distant? ”
“Exactly,” Quinn said, throwing her hands up in the air. “It’s like she’s already checked out. And I know I’m probably making it worse, but what the fuck are we doing?”
The compassion on Emma’s face made Quinn feel exposed, especially when she paired it with, “How long are you going to do this to yourself, buddy?”
“I know you don’t like us together,” Quinn huffed.
Emma laughed. “That’s not the issue. For so many reasons, but no. I think you’re both amazing, and I think you could be amazing together.”
“What?” Quinn’s jaw hit the floor.
“You’re in a toxic situation, though, and I think you’re so good together, in some ways, that you’re both afraid to end it,” Emma corrected.
“Well, thank you, Dr. Hart,” Quinn said. “I thought I was the Psych student.”
“I get to read and write about great literature, I’m a student of the human condition,” Liv replied, adopting a faux sense of grandeur.
“You wrote your final paper last year analyzing sex scenes in different genres of romance novels,” Quinn reminded her.
“I sure fucking did, and that essay was excellent,” Emma said with a prideful hair flip.
Quinn begrudgingly nodded her agreement.
She’d read the paper, and it was fantastic.
“Also, is your point that sex isn’t part of the human condition?
Because, counterpoint, if y’all had been able to keep your grubby little paws off each other, you wouldn’t be in this situation now. ”
That earned an eye roll from Quinn. “Grubby little paws?”
“Am I wrong?” Emma asked.
“I’ve never gotten complaints about my paws,” Quinn joked, and it was Emma’s turn to roll her eyes. Quinn was quiet, then, for just a few seconds, before she huffed, “I can’t believe she’s spending the summer with her boyfriend. ”
“He’s not her boyfriend,” Emma said, like it was a reflex.
“Exactly like I’m not her girlfriend,” Quinn replied, shrugging. Emma didn’t have a sufficient response to that, so she just reached for the remote, turning the movie back on.
Emma stayed the night, feeding Quinn again in the morning and making her promise that she would take another day to rest before hopping back into the pool.
She offered to stay, to be there when Liv arrived, but Quinn turned down the suggestion.
She didn’t want Emma as a buffer this year.
She didn’t need a witness to her misery.
Liv arrived on schedule, letting herself into the apartment quietly, carrying a small travel bag.
They barely acknowledged each other, the distance from their communication that summer invading the present.
They’d never been uncomfortable with each other, not really, but this was painful, Quinn sitting stiffly on their couch while Liv hovered near the entrance to the room.
“Good afternoon,” Liv said finally.
“Good afternoon,” Quinn repeated, her eyebrows raised, a question in her tone. “We haven’t seen each other in months…”
“I know, obviously,” Liv replied, sounding upset. Quinn was confused because she was the one who had the right to be upset. “I just…I don’t know what you want me to say. We’ve barely talked.”
“And whose fault is that?” Quinn asked. If this was how the school year was starting, how were they going to make it eight months?
“Probably both of us,” Liv answered honestly. “But you’ve barely engaged with me all summer. You didn’t answer the last three weeks for our Saturday calls…”
“Because we weren’t saying anything,” Quinn replied, in a huff.
“Quinn, last summer you, me, Juliette, and Everlee watched an entire ocean docuseries while on a video call,” Liv responded .
Okay, that was true, Quinn could admit to herself.
“I feel like you have given up on me,” Liv said, her voice small, echoing, without knowing it, what Quinn had said to Emma.
“I would never give up on you,” Quinn replied, and Liv’s face softened slightly at her words.
Quinn wanted so badly for that to be true.
It was like they were both afraid to make the first move, but eventually Quinn stood, walking over to cup Liv’s face in her hand. Things felt better, clearer, as soon as skin met skin. “You’re more beautiful every time I see you.”
Liv sighed, pressing her cheek into Quinn’s palm, melting into the contact. When Quinn dropped her hand, Liv spoke.
“Do you want to talk about…anything?” she asked. She was chewing her lip, looking nervous, and God… What did that mean?
“You don’t owe me any explanations,” Quinn said, because it’s what she was supposed to say.
“I don’t,” she agreed simply. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t answer your questions.”
“No, no. Let’s leave it there,” Quinn replied.
“Quinn, I told him about you,” Liv huffed. “Conner. I told him about you.”
Quinn didn’t know if she’d ever been more confused in her life. “You…what?”
“I mean, not specifics, obviously,” Liv said. Obviously . “But I told him I had someone at school that I was coming back to this year. He understood. Everything with us, with him and me, it stayed on pause.”
Liv said this like she’d done Quinn a kindness, like she thought it was exactly what Quinn would want to hear. And…maybe it could be enough. Quinn closed her eyes, and she tried to feel some sense of relief, anything other than the emptiness of knowing they were almost at the end .
The relief didn’t come, but still, she reached again for Liv, for the person who’d come to feel like home, and willed herself to enjoy this, to relish this time, to appreciate it as the gift it was.
They had eight and a half months until graduation. Eight and a half months to laugh and talk and fight and fuck, to cuddle and hold hands and hug and kiss and remember how much they just liked each other, liked spending time together.
Eight and a half months.
It’s just…Quinn wasn’t so sure she would make it.