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“Liam isn’t talking to me,” she interrupts.
“Sounds like a you problem.” I sidestep, but she mirrors me.
“I underestimated how he feels about you.”
Maeve studies my face closely, like that statement was a test she’s looking for an answer to. I keep my expression carefully blank.
“Liam waspissedwhen I told him about me and Wes. I’d never seen him that mad. Even when we were kids, he’d never throw tantrums. He just bottles it all up inside. I thought nothing could rattle him more than me and Wes. But last night, he was so angry. At Brian, on the video, when he was saying those awful things to you. And…at me, when I told him you were a terrible person playing games with him because you were bored.”
She waits for me to react to that last sentence, but I don’t.
“Liam has always taken the rivalry super seriously. It’s personal to him. I knew how he’d react about Wes, and it’s why I never pushed him too hard about accepting our relationship. This summer, it finally felt like he was moving past it. He wasn’t as resentful or bitter. I thought enough time has passed. That he was finally sick of holding a grudge. But it was you. And I was so shocked last night, I didn’t really think about what that meant.
“Liam doesn’t chase girls. And you don’t strike me as the type to chase after a guy. Liam bolted out of the party last night as soon as you texted him, and—”
“Maeve,” I interrupt. “Listen. I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. If you and Liam got into a fight, then you need to talk to him. Ambush him on a run when you’re back on campus. Bring him a coffee. You’re his sister. Whatever you said, he’ll get over it.”
“I wasn’t the bigger person,” she says. “I judged Liam for how he reacted to me and Wes, because I told myself he should care more about my happiness than the rivalry. But when the roles were reversed, I wasn’t the bigger person. I reacted just as badly as he did.”
“If you’re looking for some sort of forgiveness—”
Maeve shakes her head. “You want to know the point of this conversation? My brother is in love with you. I wanted him to get over the rivalry, but I wasn’t sure he ever really would. I didn’t consider the possibility, and if I had, I probably would have seen it sooner. He kept asking me about Chris after he saw you two at Wes’s birthday party. And there was this girl in South Carolina who hit on him, and he—” Maeve stops talking when she sees my smile. “What?”
“This is the same girl who hit him before hittingonhim, right?”
She raises one brow. “He told you that story?”
I shrug. Liam mentioned the incident while we were eating dinner on the beach, after seeing a couple playing frisbee. I laughed so hard I almost choked on my hot dog.
“You should call Liam,” Maeve states.
I shake my head, trying to process the absurdity of Maeve Stevens saying those four words to me. “We’re done. We both agreed. He’s busy with football, and I’m headed back to Boston soon. It was never going to last, and no one was ever supposed to know. Just because the second isn’t true anymore doesn’t mean the first one changed too. It’s kind of sweet you came to talk to me—even if it’s just because you feel guilty—but it was totally unnecessary. Bye, Maeve.”
I step around her and start walking toward my house, not looking back once. Even asMy brother is in love with youechoes around my head.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
LIAM
Igain a new appreciation for the metaphors between sports and religion as I stare down at the field from my vantage point in the stands.
Seats that hold thousands on game days are entirely empty. There’s something humbling and sacred about sitting in a space with so much capacity, all by yourself.
My phone buzzes. I cap my Gatorade and pull it out of my pocket without shifting position. My legs are propped up on the back of the seat in front of mine, my posture slouched.
I’m exhausted. Physically drained after a three-hour practice this morning. But there’s a mental toll I’ve never struggled with before. I’m not sleeping well. I should be in the athlete dining hall with the rest of the team right now, loading up on calories. Instead, I’m sitting here, alone.
“Hey, Dad,” I answer the phone.
“Hi, Liam. How’s it going?”
“Fine.”
“Classes going well?”
“Yeah, they’re fine.”
“You still liking that Aerodynamics one?”
