Page 61 of What We Got Wrong

Chapter 22

Liv

March, Sophomore Year

The second semester of their sophomore year in college was going well. Quinn had made it all the way to the regional championship for the 200-meter backstroke, traveling to Ohio for the competition, and Liv and Emma, who just barely missed eligibility, tagged along with Quinn’s family. Even her brothers had come to watch her final swim of the year, and when she placed sixth overall in the region, her cheering section was the loudest of all.

Quinn was pumped with her performance and genuinely appreciative that they had all come to urge her on, greeting them with the biggest smile Liv had ever seen. She tried not to be affected when Quinn, after hugging every member of her family, pulled Liv in and squeezed tightly, taking an extra second or two with her.

When they pulled away, Emma caught Liv’s attention and rolled her eyes, lips pursed to cover her amusement. Liv couldn’t help it, though. Watching Quinn in her element was frustratingly sexy.

When they got back to their dorm the next morning, Liv had Quinn set down her stuff, take off her clothes, and lie down in Liv’s bed. She grabbed her lotion and began massaging Quinn’s body, leaving no part of her untouched.

They didn’t leave the room for the rest of that weekend, surviving only on bottled water, prepackaged snacks, and each other.

But there was a tension as the school year worked to its close. They’d survived the winter break, but that had been much shorter, less than one month compared to the three they were about to be apart, and Liv knew that Quinn had to be wondering what the summer would have in store for them, as well.

Liv was navigating their situation as if she were leading parallel lives at this point: her home self and her school self, and she felt like it was very possible that she was going to split in two. She wanted, needed, to talk about it, but Quinn was her best friend, and even if she weren’t the subject of so many of them, Liv wouldn’t want to burden Quinn with the weight of all her thoughts. And, as much as she loved Emma, and she did, Emma had always felt like Quinn’s friend first, so she didn’t want to take this to her either.

The strange thing about all of it, though, was that when she was in the moment, at school, with her friends, she was happy in a way she’d never experienced. The pressing crush of expectations from her family, her concerns about her future, even the pain from the loss of her sister, none of it felt quite as bad when she could just sink into her life here, pretending the outside world didn’t exist.

“I want to find an apartment for next year,” Liv announced, somewhat randomly, one day in mid-March.

“You don’t want to stay on campus,” Quinn replied. “I think the upperclassmen dorms are nice. Emma just got approved for a single, she’s pretty geeked about it.”

“I mean, if that’s what you want, we can stay on campus, but it would be nice to have a little more space,” Liv responded. “I can have my bike shipped from home, too, or get a car, so you don’t have to drive me all of the time, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No, it’s just…you want to live with me again?” Quinn asked. Liv hated that she sounded surprised, and it confused her. Nothing made her happier than spending time with Quinn, and surely…she had to know that, right?

“Of course,” Liv said, trying to mask her own disbelief at Quinn’s shock. “I mean, if you want to find a different roommate or have your own space, I totally understand it.”

She would be heartbroken, but she’d understand.

Or, not heartbroken, of course. She certainly wouldn’t say that. It was too strong to speak aloud, but she’d be… Well, devastated was the next word that she could come up with that came even close to how she’d feel if Quinn decided to live with someone else.

“I just didn’t know if you’d want to, considering our whole…thing,” Quinn replied.

Oh, they didn’t talk about this. They’d been cautious this whole year, careful to maintain the perception of friendship. No, not perception, Liv thought, because that’s what they were. Friends. It just so happened that one of their favorite activities to do together, as friends, was taking each other apart with their mouths.

“Like, I didn’t know if you were thinking that it had…run its course,” Quinn continued.

Liv bit her lip to forcibly restrain herself from sharing the thought that first came to her mind, which was that she genuinely didn’t think she’d ever get enough of Quinn. That wouldn’t be helpful, of course, so she shook her head, feeling sick to her stomach. “I mean…if you think we should stop?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Quinn replied fervently enough that Liv immediately believed her. “It’s just, we’re going back home soon. I don’t know what that’s going to mean for you.”

“Conner’s not going to be in Chicago again this year,” Liv blurted, knowing this was the topic Quinn was avoiding. “He’s interning in Hong Kong this summer.”

She’d stayed in touch with him, more out of habit than anything, exchanging a handful of texts a month. It was another thing that she and Quinn didn’t talk about.

“Regardless,” Quinn continued, though Liv could see some relief in the way her posture softened. “It’s been a minute since we’ve checked in. Maybe we should talk before we make any decisions about where we’re living next year?”

Yeah, that was certainly the mature thing to do. But Liv didn’t want to talk about it. She’d rather continue floating through, ignoring the potential ramifications of their actions, just basking in the goodness of it.

This was working for her. But, okay. Maybe it wasn’t working for Quinn? Because, honestly, that would make sense. Quinn was amazing. She was gorgeous and kind and sweet and a little bit of a dork, and Liv just…she liked her so much. And Liv was painfully aware that Quinn could have anyone she wanted. Maybe Quinn was ready to date, and she needed space from Liv to find someone who could give her what she deserved.

“Nothing has changed on my side,” Liv said, wishing that emotion hadn’t wound its way so tightly around her throat, making her words hoarse. Why did it feel like she was about to cry? “But I don’t want to be in the way if you’re ready to find something…else.”

For something real, she had been thinking, but the word wouldn’t come out. Because maybe what they had existed within its own unique set of parameters, but that certainly didn’t mean that it wasn’t real.