O L I V I A
P O R T L A N D: 5:40
I HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN that I was to be boarding a plane today. My mother's trip to Cambridge had completely slipped my mind. She mentioned it casually over the phone that first night at Liam's when she told me I was off the waitlist, but she didn't remind me until this morning.
Oh well. It's not like I have that much to pack, anyways.
I may or may not have put one of Liam's grey hoodies that he maybe left at my house possibly in my bag because I potentially miss him. I need all the emotional support I can get right now.
I'm going to my future home for four years.
Someone set me on fire, please.
The word home doesn't feel right when describing Harvard. It's my mother's home, but it's not mine, nor do I think it will ever be. It's just my future place of residence and school. That's it. It's not that it's a bad school, it's just that every time I see it, I see the life that's been set out for me, not the life I want to live. I want to sever myself from this identity.
I'm tugging my suitcase down the stairs and to the car, where my mother is waiting for me impatiently. She smiles when I see her, and I fake a grin. "I have more good news."
I internally groan.
"I've got a meeting, so we're spending one day in Cambridge, and another one in Toronto!" She exclaims. "Canada, the home of Justin Trudeau, moose, and maple syrup."
I pretend to be excited. "Sounds cool." I lie. When my mom goes on short business trips with me, I'm always forced to stay in the hotel alone and watch movies in a place that's not my living room. It's boring and lonely.
* * *
L I A M
P O R T L A N D: 8:30
Sometimes, I don't mind my mother. I don't forgive her for what she did to my father, but I can spend time with her. She's willing to defend me against her douchebag of a husband. My feelings about Brian, however, are not very pleasant.
Besides the fact that he's an asshole, he also thinks he has control over me, the person who he's not biologically related to. I'm eighteen years old, I have a plan for my future, and I don't do any hard drugs. Just because I'm not going to college doesn't mean I'm going to fuck up everything.
When I came back from driving Olivia home, he was furious. My mother and sisters were not.
"You were not supposed to leave this house!" The vein in his neck looks like it's about to burst.
"Sorry that I don't want people to freeze to death." I snapped.
Brian uncrosses his arms and cocks his head. "Listen, boy. You think you can disrespect me--"
"Enough." My mother says, placing a hand on Brian's shoulder. "Please, people like Olivia don't come into Liam's life often. Don't ruin this for him." She tells him, kindly. My mom turns to me, eyes wide and full of something, maybe pity, maybe neutrality. "Do you love her, Liam?"
I shake my head. "Not yet, mom." I say, honestly.
I can still feel her against me, warmth radiating off of her body under the sprinkle of cold snow. I can taste the candy canes on her lips and smell her. Jasmine, and old books, mixed with a garden, like fresh flowers after the rain. I could feel the softness of her wavy hair, and see the smooth skin on her body.
In the movies, when people are in good situations, they say 'I could get used to this.' But to be honest, I don't think I could ever get used to that feeling. I don't think I could see myself looking at Olivia and seeing just a girl. I couldn't look into her eyes and see anything but a storm, the kind that keeps you awake at night and bursts through your windows, the kind that shakes your house and floods your basement.
What is possible, is that I can imagine falling in love with her.
"Liam, are you even listening?" My mother asks.
I snap out of my daze. "Sorry, what did you say?"
She purses her lips together. "You're still grounded, but if you want to do something with Elizabeth tomorrow, you can."
Her suggestion gives me an idea.
* * *
O L I V I A
C A M B R I D G E: 2:00
The campus seems just as grand as it did every time I've seen it before. Everything is clean cut and groomed, from the grass to the trees, to even the people. Everyone looks like they belong here, from the brilliant exchange students and the wealthy intellectuals around every corner. I'd seen a fair amount of people I'd classify as normal, but I don't want that.
It feels like everyone here has the same goal. To succeed.
When I went to UChicago, I was surprised as to how it wasn't close to the city, but part of the city. There were people everywhere, and all of them came from a thousand different backgrounds. I could walk twenty minutes and get Polish dinner one way, and Mexican dessert just ten minutes later. The flurry of people was brilliant, and untamed. It felt raw and real.
Liam's jacket is the only thing that keeps me sane. Inside the nearly-empty lecture hall, I feel slightly calm. The room is large and daunting, ceiling at least seventy feet above my head. The walls are decorated with elaborate pictures and paintings.
"They don't have class here anymore." My mom comments, voice carrying through the room as though it was a music hall or an auditorium. "Makes me feel old."
I shrug.
Instead of thinking about this place, or her words, I wrap my arms around myself and pretend I'm still with the person who insists I leave this life. Even though he knows it's my decision, he still pushes me to break the boundaries and tell her.
I wish I could be as brave as him.
I'm a coward.
* * *
L I A M
P O R T L A N D: 12:15
I'm a coward.
I've parked my car on the side of the road, between an antique Ford and a brand new Buick. The music in the car is soft, I've turned the sound down so I can think. The new pine car freshener is the only thing keeping this scene tranquil.
Lizzie is fast asleep in the passenger seat, her cheek pressing up against the window and her arms crossed on her chest. This is the first time I've seen her dress up in a long time. Her dark hair is no longer messy like mine always was, but instead, it's been straightened neatly. A lemon colored dress is contrasting with her tan skin, but she's still wearing the dark high-top converse that she always does.
I don't want to wake her up, partially because I know she doesn't sleep enough, but mostly because I'm too much of a pussy to go out there and face the music.
I could really go for a smoke right now, but I really don't think going out and buying pot with my sister is a good idea. I may be a fuck up, but I'll do everything I can to keep her from turning out like me.
I swallow the lump in my throat and set a hand on her shoulder to wake her up. "Lizzie." I mutter, words difficult to articulate.
Her eyes slowly jolt open and she looks panicked for a second, until she realizes where she is. "Did I fall asleep?" She asks, voice shaky.
I nod. "We're getting lunch first." I say. "I would've asked you to pick a place, but..."
She glances out the window and sees the familiar Vietnamese Cafe that we always went to. "Pham's is fine." She replies.
I want to say some sarcastic remark about us already being here, so that meant she didn't have a choice, but I think the both of us were aware that I would take her to the moon if she just asked.
The inside of Pham's always smells like broth and herbs. It's one of those places that's so under the map that only locals and their friends enter. The walls are decorated with Buddhist decor and paintings, and the hardwood floors creek. Everything is impeccably clean, however. The tables are cozy and wooden, the seats are matching and soft, with thin red cushions.
My favorite waiter, the owner's son, greets me.
"Hey fuckwad, what do you want today?" Sam asks, sloppy smile on his face. I notice that he's gotten the cartilage in his ear pierced now, there's a silver ring right there to match the one in his nose and the stud in his eyebrow.
"Don't swear in front of my sister." I say, half jokingly, because I'm usually the one doing the cursing.
He raises an eyebrow and turns to the other Walker at the table. "How are you on this fine day Elizabeth?"
She shrugs. "I'm okay." Is all she says.
"I assume the usual for both of you?" He asks.
We both nod.
* * *
O L I V I A
C A M B R I D G E: 4:00
This is not my home. I hate that my mother keeps calling it that. This was her home, it will never be mine. Each step on the sidewalk makes me skin crawl. I hate it here more and more, and I get angrier and angrier at myself each minute.
It's like this is the lane of predestination. I want to break from it and swerve into my own path. This is a lie, perfectly constructed because that's how she wants it.
I want to scream.
We're leaving now, but the words my mother kept saying to her old friends irked me beyond belief.
This is my daughter, she'll be here in the fall.
Her dream is to follow in my footsteps.
I'm so happy to have someone like her doing this with me.
I've been holding in this rebellion and this feeling for my entire life. It's only a matter of time before I break, I can feel the glass around me cracking.
* * *
L I A M
P O R T L A N D: 1:15
Lizzie barely touched her Pho. Her hands were shaking so fast she could barely use the chopsticks. I could see the worry in her eyes, feel it radiating off of her. We're back in the car now, it's silent except for the Red Hot Chili Peppers CD that's nearly muted.
I can feel the motion of the car under my fingertips. I'm normally used to it, but now, I'm thinking about every sense. The feeling of smooth roads under the tires, or the occasional bump on the old pavement that should be refinished. It's a little relaxing.
Under the Bridge is playing now.
I think about when I sang this for Olivia.
Now my mind is on her. I'm thinking about yesterday, when I couldn't stop kissing her, where everything felt like hot fire in the cold snow.
I'm thinking about her voice.
When she speaks up, I hear the low richness in her ton"e. It radiates calm when I'm worried, but it also draws me in and tells me to pin her against the wall and kiss her when I'm not. Of course I haven't done that. Yet.
"Lee, are you okay?" Lizzie asks.
I glance over to my right. "Yeah, fine, why?"
"You just ran a red light." She replies, voice shaking.
I widen my eyes. "Oh, uh, sorry." Mind on the road, Liam. Not your math tutor naked. Though it is a really fucking good sight. Of course, I can only imagine, for now, at least.
"I saw you kiss Olivia last night." She comments as if she knows exactly what I'm thinking. I'm not looking over, I'm focused on driving, but I can hear the slight smile in her timid voice.
I nod. "Yup."
I remember running out of the house after her, feeling my heart exploding out of my chest. I wanted to tell her everything I was feeling and that I wanted to be with her. I was just scared. I was scared of breaking her and hating myself for doing it. I don't know how to be a good friend, or boyfriend, or anything.
"You should ask her out." If there's one thing I've taught my sister, it's how to be blunt.
I shake my head. "I don't know if she'll say yes. And if she does, I feel like I'm just gonna fu--screw it up." It feels good to get it off my chest, to talk to someone about this.
"She kissed you back, didn't she?"
Fuck.
* * *
O L I V I A
C A M B R I D G E: 6:30
I don't think I've ever loved something like I love beds. They're soft, and cozy, and they keep me sane. The hotel bed is the biggest relief of the day. It makes me feel like I'm resting on a thousand clouds in heaven, instead of the hell that is my reality.
My mother is out getting dinner. I told her I wasn't feeling well and I didn't want to stifle her experience. In reality, I didn't want to have to put up with her snobby Harvard friends.
I flick on the television and see the news. There's nothing interesting, it appears. It's all depression and war, all monopolized. I couldn't stand it. I changed it to the CW where Riverdale was playing.
I envy Jason Blossom.
The guys on the screen are undoubtedly hot, but the only boy I can think about is Liam.
Yesterday sent my brain into a spiral that kept him inside my mind. I didn't want him to go away. It was a moment I wanted to cement in time, even though the snow was freezing and the winds were biting my skin.
I kept reliving the moment in my head, over and over again.
The ringing of the phone causes me to break my daze and jump back. I look at the caller ID, and it's the very person I was thinking about.
Liam.
I pick up instantly. "Hey." I greet him, pretending like I'm fine and cool and not internally freaking out.
"Hi." He says, low voice sending shivers down my spine. "I uh, was wondering if you were free tonight." Liam suggests.
Tonight. Not today. Tonight. People go on dates in the evenings. You ask people to hang out over text, you ask people out over the phone. I feel as though this isn't just a friendly thing. After yesterday's kiss, it probably isn't. I internally screech.
It's then that I remember he's three hours behind me on the other side of the country.
I sink into the hotel bed, wishing I could say yes. "I'm um, in Massachusetts." I reply. "I'll be back the day after tomorrow, we can do something then."
There's a bit of shuffling. "Where in Massachusetts?" He asks, a little suspicion in his tone.
"Harvard."
"Oh." Is all he says, until silence fills up the other end. "Is everything okay?"
I swallow the lump in my throat and pull my legs to my chest. "I'll get over it." I lie.
"You sure, babe?" He asks.
I feel my cheeks heat up. Babe. Liam Walker just called me babe. My heart feels like I'm going to explode, bursting out of my chest like the heavy beat of a drum. I felt as though Liam was holding on to me, like I did when I hugged his chest while I tried to ward of a nightmare, or how we kissed yesterday.
"It'll be okay." I tell him again, lying through my teeth.
* * *
L I A M
P O R T L A N D: 3:30
I knocked on the door.
Shuffling came from the other side of the old brick townhouse. I looked down. Lizzie's hands were shaking. I try to see my father at least every two weeks, but Elizabeth isn't as lucky. My mother would rarely ever let her visit him, even though it was the best way to fix anything. I slipped my palm over my sister's and squeezed it tightly.
Clicking. Then the turn.
The man on the other side looked the same as always. His frown stretched immediately into a smile, covered in stubble and lit by the small spark that still shimmered in his golden green eyes. He and I looked one and the same. White tee shirt and shorts that revealed his shiny metal prosthetic leg.
I see Milo, the old brown Mastiff we've had since I was a kid. He looks like a giant bear in hibernation. His only acknowledgement of us is the slight raise of his head, before he sets it back down on the floor and grunts.
"Hey dad." I say, letting go of my sister's hand so she could pull him into a tight hug.
"I tried to visit you, in the hospital. Your mom didn't tell me until you nearly got discharged." He told Lizzie. "Liam, can you boil some water for tea? We'll be in the living room."
I nod and follow them inside, turning from the messy foyer to the old gas-stove kitchen. The wooden counters were dull, the tiles were dirty, and a few dishes were piling up in the sink. You could see the loneliness in my father's home. Pictures line the walls, the fridge, and the counters.
All three of the Walker children were featured. The most recent photo of Hannah, however, was four years ago.
She was three.
I sigh and run my hands over the frame.
There were pictures of his friends from the force, all a decade or so old. There's a photograph from when he was nineteen and enlisted, just a year older than me. I see the smile that only shows up around us anymore, the glimmer in his eyes, and the messy hair I've inherited. If someone didn't know better, they could've assumed he was me.
That's what scares me most. That I'll turn out sad like him, with nobody but kids who could only see him biweekly.
The kettle hisses.
I jump back. A sigh escapes my lips, and I grab the handle and pour it into a pot with two bags in it.
Entering the room, I see tears. From both sides, covered in silence. I set the tea down on the coffee table. It's next to a stack of newspapers and envelopes, which litter the hand crafted oak wood my grandfather had made.
"Liam, how was your week?" Dad asks, glancing up at me as I take a seat on the leather couch.
I shrug. "It's been a week."
Lizzie raises her eyebrows at me. Tell him about her. The look seems to read. Being in here, this place of loneliness, I feel as though telling my father about Olivia is unjust. After the woman he loved broke his heart for a Hawaiian shirt-wearing Conservative.
"You want a beer, Liam?" My dad asks.
I shake my head. "I'm driving." I explain.
He smiles. "That was a test. I wouldn't have given you one." He says, crossing his arms.
I laugh, slightly. I even see Lizzie's lips curl up a little. The room suddenly feels warm, and open. As though it's how it always is, and we are the family we should be. The two kids old enough to remember their real father and the parent who would do anything to keep them happy.
"I uh, I met a girl." I say, which satisfies my sister, and causes my father to widen his eyes.
"Can I meet her?" My dad asks, with a low laugh. "I'm so happy for you Liam! This is such a surprise! You're not exactly the kind of guy who opens his arms up for everyone. Tell me everything."
I am reminded as to how shocking his optimism is.
I cross my arms. "We're not dating or anything--"
"Yet." Lizzie adds. hitting my shoulder.
I shrug. "Maybe."
He purses his lips. "Liam, if you don't go out and take this opportunity, she'll be gone. You'll be in the military, she'll be at college, or trade school, or whatever, and you will regret it."
He's right.
"I have a phone call I need to make."
i've kind of imagined elizabeth as angelina green from america's got talent (the girl singing in the video) i don't really want to cast her, but just fwi that's what i was thinking.
and for those of you asking (in both my PMs and on ask.fm,) the whole "WHEN ARE THEY GONNA DATE WHY HASNT IT HAPPENED YET THEY OBVIOUSLY LOVE EACH OTHER" the characters in this book are people, and this is about their growth and change. there's a lot that both of them have to tackle to have a romantic relationship. it takes time to fall in love.
it's my pet peeve when characters say they love each other after two weeks.
but there is some cute shit happening soon, don't get me wrong ;)
also: for those of you who don't know, cambridge is 3 hours ahead of portland. i liked this format, and then i didn't. i don't know. was it confusing? i didn't want it to be.