Page 75 of What We Got Wrong

Liv laughed, but before she even found the remote, Quinn’s phone was buzzing with a call from her mom.

“Jennifer, you cannot answer a text with a phone call,” Quinn said, skipping any type of standard greeting. Liv wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the casual relationship Quinn had with her parents.

“Well, you answered,” Liv heard her mom respond, and she had a point there. “Is everything okay with Liv’s family?”

Liv wasn’t even the one on the phone call. She was just sitting next to Quinn, listening in to what she could make out because of the proximity, and she could still detect the notes of concern in Quinn’s mom’s voice, like she was genuinely worried about her.

“All good,” Quinn answered simply. “Her parents are traveling, so I’m trying to trick her into coming to hang out with all of us hooligans.”

“Did you tell her that I bake six different types of cookies? I really feel like you undersell my baking skills to your friends.”

“Do you remember when I chipped my tooth on a pecan shell eating one of your pies,” Quinn asked, and Liv stifled a giggle. “Because it’s a core memory for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It was a baby tooth, no harm done. Let me talk to her.”

“I’ll put you on speaker,” Quinn offered, and she slid the phone from her ear, pressing the speaker button.

“Liv?”

“Yes, Jennifer, I’m here,” Liv replied, nervous for some reason.

“We’d love to have you over for the holidays, sweetie,” Quinn’s mom said. “We normally host a ton of people—aunts, uncles, cousins—but it’s just us this year. I, for one, could use some help entertaining the kids, and my girls love you so much. And we would have even teams for game night!”

Liv watched Quinn’s face, a small smile growing on her lips, and knew that they both understood completely what her mom was trying to do.

“No pressure,” Quinn whispered.

They were both just so freaking sweet, it was adorable.

“Well, I did hear something about cookies,” Liv replied.

So, she found herself at Quinn’s childhood home for the first time. They arrived while her family was out, with Quinn assuring her that it was likely the only moment of peace they’d have the entire trip, and Quinn gave Liv a quick tour of the house. Liv felt a little like she’d stepped onto the set of a movie: the house was small and a bit cluttered, more so because it was stuffed with decorations for Christmas. There were three trees—one in the living room, one in what Quinn referred to as the “den” towards the back of the house, opposite Quinn’s parents’ room, and even a small tree on the narrow staircase that led to the second floor, which Quinn explained held the three bedrooms her siblings lived in.

Quinn, as she told the story, had been evicted from her bedroom as soon as she moved away to school their freshman year, her brothers deciding they were old enough to have their own rooms, especially given she was gone the better part of nine months. So, Quinn lived, when she was back home, in the basement. They concluded the tour down there, and it was clear that the space was normally used as a hangout for all the kids, with two couches creating an L shape to section off that area of the long room, along with a reclining chair, pool table, and a full entertainment center that housed a television, gaming system, and several overflowing shelves of books. There was a small bathroom with a tiny walk-in shower, and the laundry area was tucked under the staircase.

“Not a lot of privacy,” Quinn said apologetically. She wasn’t wrong. There wasn’t even a door at the top of the stairway.

“That’s okay,” Liv replied. Because they’d agreed that the truly private things they did together were off limits for this visit. Liv was certain they could cope. They were friends first, though she could admit to herself that it wouldn’t exactly be easy to go that long without touching Quinn. “It’s only for a few weeks.”

Quinn nodded, and Liv continued surveying the room. There were several boxes stacked against the far end of the room, and when she asked about them, Quinn shook her head and laughed.

“When Nico took over my room, the boys boxed up all of my stuff,” she explained. “That’s everything that they haven’t thrown out.”

“This is a bunch of your childhood stuff? We are definitely going through those,” Liv said, though Quinn just waved her off.

“It’s mostly just old swim trophies and more Rhea Stewart posters.”

“Um, excuse me. Please use her full name. It’s Rhea Freaking Stewart,” Liv said, loving the charmed look Quinn shot back. “Wait. Exactly how many of these posters do you have?”

Quinn raised her eyebrows. “Don’t be jealous.”

Liv felt her face go warm. “I am not jealous.”

“Mmhmm,” Quinn replied, before they heard a door upstairs bang open several times, letting them know that they were no longer alone.

“Quinnie! Liv! Come upstairs,” Quinn’s dad bellowed.

Quinn nodded at the stairs. “Sounds like our peace has come to an end.”