Page 66 of What We Got Wrong

But she knew that’s not what Quinn wanted. “Let’s not talk.”

Concern washed over Quinn’s face. “Liv, I don’t want—"

“Quinn, I know that you have this whole gentlemanly, good guy thing that you do, but if you don’t want me to start crying on you, I need you to stop talking.”

Liv knew the look she shot her at that moment was pure pleading, yet Quinn seemed for a minute like she wasn’t sure which choice she was going to make. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, at war with herself. And Liv understood, because Quinn was a good person, and no matter what had happened between them in the past, Quinn was someone who could be counted on to be there for the people around her.

But Liv also knew that Quinn was raw right now, too. And probably overwhelmed, and maybe even a little scared. So, she understood when Quinn stepped into her room, licking her lips and pulling Liv into her with a bruising kiss before tipping her head back just slightly, whispering, “Okay. Let’s not talk.”

Chapter 24

Quinn

August, Junior Year

The apartment they chose to rent—the two-bedroom apartment, because Quinn maintained it was the right decision for a plethora of reasons—was available starting the beginning of August, so Quinn moved in, by herself, almost a month before Liv was scheduled to arrive. Other than the bed that was going in what they were, for now, calling “Quinn’s room,” which Quinn and her parents had purchased from an estate sale over the summer, Liv had insisted on buying all the furniture they needed. Or, rather, letting her parents gift it to them. Quinn was trying to lean into gratitude.

Everything began arriving steadily in the second week of the month, first the couch, then a small dining room table and chairs, followed by a television, and then several boxes of towels, pots and pans, and even a grocery box full of pantry staples. By the time swim practice started again, the apartment resembled a place actual adults would want to live in.

Though she could have moved into her dorm right away, Quinn invited Emma to stay at the apartment for the week before Liv came back. It felt like summer camp, or at least, what Quinn imagined summer camp might feel like, given she’d never been. They had three-a-day practices, but each night they returned to the apartment to veg out, watching movies and trashy reality television. Emma was a surprisingly good cook, whipping up a few meals, though they mostly subsisted on protein bars, fruit, and yogurt.

A few days before Liv was scheduled to arrive, Quinn ran out for a few groceries. When she returned to the apartment, she overheard Emma talking to Brandon. She knew without asking that she was on the phone with her boyfriend. She could tell by the tone of Emma’s voice that it wasn’t a pleasant conversation, and they’d been fighting all week.

Quinn tried to be inconspicuous as she moved around, putting the few things she’d purchased away in their respective places in the kitchen, but as soon as Emma joined her in the room, Quinn asked, “What was that one about?”

Emma huffed. “Same thing.”

“I don’t understand why y’all have to go through this every year,” Quinn said. She was aware, obviously, that she was not exactly an expert in relationships, but she still didn’t think it was right, Emma’s boyfriend giving her a hard time each year when she left for school.

“I mean, I feel the same way,” Emma replied. “It’s just hard for him, me leaving.”

“I do get that part. You’re great,” Quinn said, nudging Emma’s shoulder. “But the dude never even comes to visit?”

“He’s busy with work,” Emma said, an edge of defensiveness in her voice. “Are you seriously judging my relationship right now?”

There was a challenge in her expression, and Quinn knew this was going to be unpleasant. “I’m not judging, Em.”

“It seems like you are,” Emma replied, her edges sharpened. “It’s a little ridiculous, especially considering your own…situation.”

“Oh, here we go,” Quinn grumbled.

“I’m just saying. I love Liv. Not like you love Liv, obviously,” Emma said.

“Shut up,” Quinn replied, rolling her eyes and trying to play this all off as a joke between friends, to soften the conversation.

“Are we really doing this again this year?” Emma asked.

“We’re friends,” Quinn insisted.

“Uh huh. Don’t come at me when you haven’t even figured out your bullshit, okay?” Emma snapped.

She was being unfair, Quinn was pretty sure. The two situations were vastly different. Quinn and Liv were just friends, with an understanding of the constraints in what they were doing. Emma was planning to marry this man. She had his name literally tattooed on her body.

It was different.

Quinn took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I’m not trying to fight. Can we please just have cereal for dinner and watch some terrible TV?”

It seemed, for a moment, like Emma was going to say yes. But somehow, Quinn not giving her the fight she was angling for made her temper flare hotter. She shook her head and stormed out of the room, scooping up the backpack she’d been living out of.