Twenty-Two ➳ l.p.

Chapter Thirteen: Old Sneakers

“Why do you always wear those?” I asked, pointing at the ratty old sneakers that Liam always wore whenever we played footie.

                  “They’re my lucky pair,” he defended, dribbling the ball between his feet. “I win every time I wear them.”

                  “Well you’re not going to win today!”

                  (He did.)

Chapter Thirteen: Old Sneakers

                  I was thinking back to what I had told Liam, sitting on my floor with my back against my bed, the fat kitten under my fingertips.

                  Felix was Abbie’s—inappropriately named—female cat. The blonde had brought her over after stopping by the vet, and now I was letting her walk over me, kneading her calico-paws between my hands.

                  “So, you’re saying he’s jealous,” Abbie clarified a tad nonchalantly, raising her brows. I had sensed that maybe Liam coming back wasn’t exactly healthy for our relationship, because she had been drifting farther and farther apart from me, and now she seemed disinterested altogether. I’m pretty sure that she was barely listening now, because I had hinted about something happening between me and Liam three rimes now, and she had yet to look up from my Seventeen magazine, skimming articles about advice and clothing.

                  “I’m saying that he thinks something is going on between me and Niall,” I muttered, threading my fingers through Felix’s fur. It was soft and spotted, and the cat let out a noise that I’m almost positive was supposed to resemble a purr.

                  “All you did was talk,” my friend countered, shifting her position so that she could easily flip the next glossy page. “Liam needs to chill out, I mean you’re not exactly his anymore.”

                  “I wasn’t his anyway,” I mumbled, and even Felix seemed to know that I was lying, batting out and snagging her newly-clipped claws on my jeans. Really, I had always been Liam’s something; Liam’s neighbor, Liam’s best friend, Liam’s crush. Right now I happened to be Liam’s enemy, but I have always been something to Liam. I was always Liam’s something.

                  Abbie grunted out a response before hopping off of my bed, thudding towards my desk, probably in search of a pen to answer one of those stupid quizzes in the magazine. “You kind of were.”

                  “Whatever,” I told her, and Felix leapt from my grasp to perch on my shoulder and toy with my wiry strands of hair. “The point is,” I shook the cat off, wincing as she yanked, “I don’t know if something is going on between me and Niall.”

                  “How do you not know?” Abbie scoffed, and even from where she was on my bed I could see her roll her eyes and chew on the edge of my pen, which I’d definitely remind her to just keep later on.

                  “Because…” I sighed, sagging my shoulders and scratching at the base of Felix’s neck, “we sort of kissed. Or, well, he kissed me, but it’s not like I stopped him or anything.”

                  Abbie’s movements stopped, and she dropped the pen against the magazine before whipping her head toward me. This was the most attention that I had gotten from her all day, but with the scowl set in place and the way that she narrowed her eyes really made me wish that she was back to ignoring me. “You kissed Niall?”