Chapter 38
Quinn
May, Senior Year
It had been almost exactly five months since Quinn had talked to Liv.
She could admit that she hadn’t handled their…well, not breakup, officially, of course, though Quinn hurt far more than when things had ended with any of her previous girlfriends.
But whatever they were calling it…Quinn knew she hadn’t handled it well.
She knew it was terrible, disappearing the way she had, while Liv still slept, after their fight in December. Quinn had been in her feelings, and she’d acted immaturely, leaving without saying goodbye.
And they’d both stubbornly refused to be the first to reach out after. Quinn was trying to keep tabs on her, though. Of course she was, through Emma…except then Liv had gone and blown that up, too.
That, honestly, had been the angriest Quinn had gotten.
She knew that they had messed up their friendship.
She knew that they should’ve called it long before they did, not because they were having sex, but because they both knew that they were complicating all of it with messy feelings.
That’s something they both did to themselves, something they chose.
But Emma had nothing to do with all that messiness. And it wasn’t fair to her for Liv to take this out on her, to punish Emma for the chaos that they’d created. Of course, Quinn using Emma as an intermediary between her and Liv also wasn’t fair …
They’d both created this mess.
And, what was even worse, was that Emma hadn’t wanted to give up on Liv.
She genuinely thought that she was going to hear from her.
Quinn knew Emma had even reached out, at least once, with an I-don’t-hate-you-even-though-you-hurt-my-feelings-maybe-let’s-talk kind of message.
Even if Emma had tried to create a boundary with Liv, she wasn’t willing to write her off.
But Liv hadn’t responded, and it seemed like she was going out of her way to avoid them on campus.
They knew she was still there, they’d each seen her a handful of times, but she’d quickly disappeared each time, as if she was painfully aware of their presence, and they hadn’t had the opportunity to interact.
And Quinn? She was fucking fine.
Good , even.
Without the distraction of their mess, she’d had a successful semester.
She’d earned top marks in her classes, made it back to regionals in swim, and performed so well in her internship that she’d been offered a job.
She’d happily accepted, so she was going to stay in the area after graduation.
The office she’d be working out of was only about ten minutes from the school.
Quinn was crushing it. She was in a great place. She was happy .
She almost believed it herself.
And too soon for Quinn’s liking, it was graduation day.
Quinn was ready in her cap and gown in Emma’s dorm, the room completely bare as Emma’s boyfriend, Brandon, had just walked out with the last box, practically floating with glee because Emma was moving home.
And on one level, Quinn got that. Emma was great, why wouldn’t he be happy to have more of her, but he seemed uninterested in allowing her emotions to be more complex than his blatant joy.
As soon as he left, Emma had teared up, so they were spending just a few extra moments alone before walking outside to meet up with their respective parties: for Quinn, her whole immediate family; for Emma, her grandparents and Brandon.
“I’m glad to be going home, I am,” Emma was saying.
“I know you are,” Quinn replied, and she reached out to squeeze her friend’s shoulder.
“I’m just going to miss this place,” Emma added, and Quinn nodded.
“It’s been great,” Quinn agreed, and she was also choked up. “You’re going to come visit me, right?”
“Of course,” Emma responded, her tears starting to fall. They hugged, crushing each other for a few moments, before pulling apart, each of them wiping at their eyes.
“Have you heard from her today?” Emma asked.
Quinn huffed. She asked this question nearly every day, and it was frustrating, not in the least because she would have told Emma immediately if Liv had reached out.
“Emma, you know that I haven’t,” Quinn answered, irritated. Before her friend could ask her next question, she added, “I also haven’t texted her.”
Emma sighed dramatically, shrugging, but didn’t say more.
Instead, she walked outside, and together they found their families.
Emma’s was first, her grandmother and grandfather sitting on a bench outside her dorm, Brandon jogging to join them.
They walked as a group towards Quinn’s family, all huddled together, her siblings dressed in their best outfits, beaming at her.
They all took turns taking pictures, first of Emma and Quinn, then rotating in their family members, and Quinn tried desperately to focus on the moment, to not be distracted by who wasn’t there.
That became easier when Brandon stepped up to Emma and, as the picture was about to be taken, got down on one knee and pulled out a ring.
Quinn could tell that Emma was happy, but there was a slight tension in her jaw, an edge to her joy, that Quinn was going to have to ask her about on a day that wasn’t as busy as this one.
And the predominant thought in her mind, other than concern for Emma, was definitely not that she wished she could talk to Liv about what had just happened.
They walked together to the stadium, saying goodbye to their families before lining up to enter with the other graduates, Quinn’s eyes up the entire time, certainly not because she was looking for Liv.
She and Emma were pulled apart when they were sorted into rough alphabetical order, before they were given cards to write out their names to hand to the presenters.
And then Quinn was filing with her peers into the stadium, and she was taking her seat.
She was listening to the commencement address, and she was cheering with her fellow graduates, and then she was walking across the stage to shake hands and accept her diploma, listening to her wild family scream and blow an illegal air horn, laughing at their behavior as she heard her dad’s booming voice yell “that’s my girl! ” over the thousands of people present.
She wasn’t at all focused the entire time on the fact that this was the last time that she’d ever be in the same place as Olivia Palmer. She certainly wasn’t counting down the moments until she heard Liv’s name, saw her walk across the stage.
When the moment came, her eyes were glued to the platform, allowed to really look at her for the first time in months.
Liv was gorgeous, of course she was , and Quinn was pleasantly surprised when she saw her grin in response to Quinn’s family, who were cheering for her at least as loudly as they cheered for Quinn.
Though Quinn also wondered how she was going to explain that to her parents, if they’d decided to take the trip.
Seeing her made the missing worse. She missed her friend, she missed the unnamed more that they’d become.
She missed touching her and kissing her at least as much as she missed laughing with her and cuddling her.
She missed simple study sessions in cramped dorms, the space tiny and overflowing with Quinn’s stuff.
She missed their apartment, the silly insistence on a two-bedroom becoming a joke between them.
Quinn missed Liv for all the time they had together, and for all the chances that they would never get.
Quinn was lost in her thoughts for the end of the ceremony, but suddenly, it was over. She was finding her family again—they were hugging her and taking her to dinner—and her undergraduate career was finished.
Quinn couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that this part of her life was over, and they were all officially going their separate ways. There was no longer a chance of bumping into Liv on campus. She was moving home, and, sure, Quinn was staying nearby, but there was no coming back from this now.
Regardless of how much it hurt, she needed her heart to accept that she was never going to see Liv again.