AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But it didn’t take him long to pick up on that and make it clear to me that he loved me and valued me no matter what, and that my own interests and aptitudes were important, too.
The fact is, he’s always been a great dad. As great as he knew how to be, at least. No parent is perfect, him included. But he always tried.
“Any class you’re looking most forward to?” he asks.
“I have a Social Media Management course that’s supposed to be super hands-on. The professor, Dr. Hoover, has an incredible reputation.”
It’s a course that’s supposed to function more like an internship. We’ll be assigned to an organization connected to the school with an active social media department, and tasked with launching campaigns that increase their engagement and visibility.
I’m a Public Relations major, and what I really want to do after graduation is work for a non-profit or charitable organization and use social media to help their causes. Social media is used so much for negativity, scamming, or cynical profit-seeking, that I’d love to play at least a minor role in helping society learn to harness it for the good it can do.
I explain this to my dad, and his eyes go wide. It feels good to know that my hard work in school actually impresses him. “Wow, pumpkin. I don’t know where you get that brain of yours from.” He knocks against the side of his head with his knuckles.
I laugh and roll my eyes. My dad’s always been smart. I’ve seen him sit at his desk hunched over his notebook developing strategies for his hockey team, looking just like I imagine some physics genius does up late at night obsessively scribbling out equations.
We spend a couple more minutes chatting, and soon enough it’s time for my dad to head off to his office and for me to start walking to class. He wraps me up in a hug, another extra tight one, and we agree to have lunch on campus sometime this week.
“You’re still coming to the first home game of the semester on Wednesday, right?” he asks once he releases me from his grip.
“Definitely,” I say with a smile.
When we go our separate ways outside, the campus is more bustling. Students are walking in all directions. Some wide awake, some yawning with one foot still in dreamland. The sky is a smooth, pristine blue, and the air is chilly without being bitterly cold. A sense of excitement, of new beginnings and new possibilities, fills the atmosphere.
As I let my gaze sweep around the campus, I start to think about Halloween night.
Is Liam on campus right now? Sitting in one of the classes in one of these buildings? The next time I turn a corner, will he be the one walking by me?
I’ve wondered how easily it might be to recognize him without the face paint. I still have his height and the fact that he has an incredible physique to go on. And his hair—but that was combed in a striking back sweep, which might have just been for the costume and something he never does with his hair otherwise. Heck, he might have even dyed his hair for the costume. Or since then. Never mind the possibility of getting a haircut.
I let out a sigh. It’s a longshot.
He probably wouldn’t recognize me, either, thanks to the mask I was wearing.
Given that he never responded to my text, I guess it’s unlikely that he’d even want to.
I roll my eyes at myself, trying to shove away the feeling of disappointment that sinks in my chest.
Like I told myself this morning: just appreciate that night for what it was. A scorching hot hookup that really did help me get over my ex.
I refocus myself on having a good first day of classes, pushing all lingering hopes of spotting Liam this semester and continuing where we left off out of my mind.
At least, I try to.
4
LIAM
“Ibetter start going to church, because this is definitely one of the signs of the Apocalypse.”
Ryder pops his head up from the textbook he’s reading. He turns his head from side to side like he’s trying to figure out what I’m talking about. “Huh? What happened?”
I raise my hand, gesturing towards him. “This!”
He looks down at himself. His head tilts up again, looking at me with a blank expression, waiting for me to elaborate.
“He’s talking about the fact that you’re actually reading a book, bro,” Tristan says, wrapping a towel around himself as he exits the shower behind me.
“Atextbook, no less,” Cole chimes in, stepping into his jeans.
