Criss-crossed patterns of light shimmer and ripple across the water as I float on my back. I turn to the ceiling and shut my eyes, big gold spots forming behind my eyelids. I'm floating aimlessly down the length of the empty pool, the water warm against my bare legs.
I open my eyes slowly, raising my left hand to shield my eyes from the too-bright ceiling lights. The waterproof bandages wound around my palm limit the movement when I try to flex my fingers.
Except for the soothing flow of the water, there is absolute silence. It numbs my brain, making my chlorinated thoughts clearer. And at this moment, it finally dawns on me why I felt so removed, so distant when I fought with Vera today.
I've known it all these months. I've felt it in the periphery of everything else. Our friendship was bound to come to a bitter end one day. Ever since Vera found her new friends and Liam and I fell in this . . . thing that we have, my friendship with Vera has been reduced to a ticking time bomb.
As I'm reliving the instant when the snowglobe hit the floor and shattered, the double doors fall open with a sharp, reverberating sound. I don't need to look up to know that it's him standing by one of the long wooden benches.
"I figured you'd be here," Liam says, his voice echoing, full and deep.
"Were you looking for me?" I ask, wading towards the edge of the pool.
I raise my arms to the tiled floor and instantly, goosebumps erupt on my skin as the warm water drips off my arms, making me shiver. Resting my chin on my folded hands, I arch my eyebrows at Liam questioningly. He crouches down on one knee so his face is a little closer to mine, his cheeks flushed with the cold.
"Yeah," he says in answer to my question. "I came by your dorm for a movie. The door was locked. Tried calling you and Vera. You didn't answer, and she yelled at me to leave her alone . . ."
A short pause. "Something wrong, Carmen?"
I stare at the small puddle around Liam's shoes, refusing to answer his question. "It's a nice night for a swim."
"I know, it's sweltering outside," he says wryly.
Managing a small smile, I move to push myself back into the water when Liam reaches out for my injured hand, his gaze zeroing in on the bandages. His honey eyes are wide as he holds my palm gingerly.
"How did this happen?"
"Vera," I say by way of explanation. When he stays silent, his hand still wrapped around mine, I add, "She's not coming home with me, she's staying here . . . with her friends. I didn't know until today."
My voice cracks at the end of the sentence, causing Liam's eyes to soften with sympathy. I clear my throat and turn my attention to the pool current pushing gently against me.
"So, we fought. She knocked my snowglobe off the desk, you know, the one she gave me? And then she left," I continue, trying and failing to sound deadpan and nonchalant. "I was cleaning up the glass when I got this cut. I went to fix it up and . . . came here sometime after that. I—I don't want to go back there. At least not tonight."
"And what?" Liam looks incredulous. "You were going to stay here?"
"It is kind of nice." I shrug half-jokingly, chewing my lip at the thought of where I will spend the rest of the night.
"Carmen, come stay with me," Liam suggests immediately as though he has read my mind. He tips his head to one side, the light hitting his face at an angle that makes his features sharper, all the more striking.
Blinking the drops of water that drip down my forehead to my lashes, I nod gratefully. I don't need to think twice to accept his offer.
"Good. We can go right now if you want to."
"Yes, please."
I move to climb out of the pool. Liam grabs both my hands and helps me up, careful not to put too much pressure on the wound.
The moment I plant my feet on the tiles, the cold hits me so swiftly and harshly that my teeth begin to chatter. We lurch for the two fluffy white towels folded on the benches, and in the next few seconds, one is secured to my waist and the other is wrapped around my shoulders.
I raise my gaze to Liam's face, a 'thank you' forming on my lips, but stop short when our eyes meet. The way he's looking at me — the intensity of his attention — causes my breath to catch in my throat.
"What are you thinking about?" Liam murmurs, his eyebrows furrowing as he reaches up to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear.
Distracted by his touch, I lose focus and let an incoherent string of words tumble out of my mouth. "That party when we . . . I just . . . I just wish I hadn't . . ."
Liam's curiosity intensifies when I trail off. "You mean Astrid's party?"
"No, not that. It's—"
I think back to what Vera said to Felix at The Blue Beetle, the story that she told — rather inaccurately — about how she met Liam.
"What is it, Carmen?"
Dragging my eyes away from his, I forcibly stop myself from saying any more. Nothing good can possibly come out of telling Liam the unfortunate truth now.
"I'm sorry, it's nothing," I sigh, shaking my head dismissively.
I put my hand to his face, tracing the creases on his forehead with my fingertips until his expression softens. He starts to protest, but I rush to interrupt him.
"I'll take a shower and get changed, okay? Five minutes."
I pull away from Liam before he can stop me, my bare feet slapping against the floor as I hurry towards the locker room. Once I'm safely hidden behind the rows and rows of lockers standing silent and tall, I shrug off the towels and take a big gulp of the clammy air. Blinking to clear my thoughts, I walk to my locker and grab my things, moving around with quick, mechanical movements. Stepping into the shower, running the soap over my skin, putting on my jeans and close-knit sweater, shouldering my backpack.
When I emerge from the locker room, I find Liam sitting on one of the benches, leaning back against the wall and typing something into his phone with a strong sense of urgency. He turns to me when I call his name.
"Ready to go?" I tug a beanie over my damp hair and slip my arms into my jacket.
"Yeah."
Liam pockets his phone before standing and pulling his coat tighter around himself. He continues to look pensive as we step out of the building, but I don't remark on it.
Outside, the snowfall has picked up just as the weather forecast had predicted last week. By the look of the white flakes whistling down, the ground will be covered with a three-inch blanket come tomorrow morning.
"Do you want something to eat before we go?" Liam asks.
Exhausted from the swim and everything else that has happened today, I say hopefully, "Pizza?"
"Okay," he grins in agreement, recovering from his preoccupation.
We walk through the snow towards The Blacktop, neither of us saying a word. On any other Friday night, the diner would be brimming with people, but now that most students have gone home for the holidays it's only sparsely crowded. The many unoccupied booths, the black-and-white pictures on the walls, and the wind howling outside make for a dreary atmosphere ill-suited to the lively eatery.
I look around myself, surreptitiously scanning the few faces in my view. Total strangers. The two girls that happen to glance back don't seem to think anything of Liam and me standing together at the counter, while the others are too immersed in their own conversations to take any notice of us. But because of what happened at the statue, I feel overexposed like I'm center stage and haven't learned the lines of the play. Disoriented and nervous, I find myself cowering under the glare of imaginary spotlights.
Thankfully, the young woman working the counter announces that our takeaway is ready much sooner than I anticipated. On my firm insistence, Liam and I split the bill equally.
Moments later, he is holding the door open for me, a flurry of snowy wind howling into the diner when we step out. The snow's falling a little faster now, the flakes hitting the ground with a vigor that seems to be growing exponentially.
Liam turns to me, draping his arm around my shoulder and guiding me forward. "We have to hurry."
We half-walk, half-jog through the — thankfully empty — streets, our heads lowered to the ground, the takeout bag rustling in Liam's hand. Even though his touch is as warm and enticing as ever, I can't shake off the deer-in-the-headlights feeling until we're finally in the safety of his dorm room.
Inside, we shrug off our coats and drape them over the desk chair. Heaving a sigh of relief, I sit down on the edge of Liam's bed before pulling off my beanie and backpack.
I can't help myself from chuckling when Liam clumsily shakes the snow off his dark hair, dishevelling his wavy hair so it sticks up in every direction.
"What?" he says defensively when he catches my eye.
"Nothing!" I turn to the pizza to hide my smile.
As I open the stiff rectangular cardboard box, Liam drops himself onto the bed, so close that his leg brushes mine. He peers at me closely and asks again in a soft yet teasing tone, "What're you laughing at?"
"You look like you've been electrocuted," I joke.
Flashing me a big grin, Liam pretends to plug his finger into a non-existent socket and starts convulsing comically as I roll my eyes and burst into giggles.
Out of breath, I reach out to smack his arm light-heartedly. "You're such a dork."
The corners of Liam's eyes crinkle when he smiles at me. He reaches up to run a hand through his hair to fix the unruly mess. I smile back at him until suddenly, a loaded silence descends into the tight space between us and I can no longer hold his gaze.
I look down at the pizza, grabbing a warm slice before turning the box towards Liam.
"What do we do now?" I wonder aloud before taking a bite of my slice, sighing internally as the cheesy dough melts in my mouth.
Liam swallows his mouthful and arches an eyebrow at me questioningly. "We could watch that movie. The one we were supposed to watch today . . ."
"Sure, yeah," I say, nodding in approval.
As Liam shifts around to grab his laptop, I'm reminded once more of Vera and the fight. My thoughts turn sour at the unwelcome memory, and I struggle to drive it away. But even after we're halfway through the gory slasher film, I can't stop thinking about her.
Over and over, I see the snowglobe falling. Shattering beyond repair. Glass on the floor, the tiny trees and snowman figurine in pieces, and most importantly, the memory of our first lights festival now tarnished by lies and resentment and betrayal.
I snap back into the moment when I realize that Liam has paused the movie and is staring at me, concerned.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"It's nothing," I say after a beat of silence. My words sound hollow to my own ears.
"Come on, talk to me," Liam says heavily, shutting the laptop before turning to face me.
I'm sitting with my back to the wall, my knees pulled up to my chest. For an instant, I turn my attention to the window. There's only darkness outside, but I can hear the wind howling, the snow continuing to rain down from the shadowy sky.
"I really liked that snowglobe," I whisper finally, not knowing what else to say.
"She gave it to you," he says, his tone rising in the end, prompting me to keep talking.
"Yeah, at our first lights festival. I guess I'll never be able to go to another one of those with her again."
Leaning closer, Liam rests his open palm in the space separating us. I reach out and take his hand, smiling sadly as his fingers wrap around mine. The plain deep blue blanket spread haphazardly over the bed is soft underneath my skin.
"There was a quote on it, yeah?"
"I'll show you," I nod in response, reluctantly letting go of Liam's hand to climb off the bed.
My black backpack is lying in a heap where I left it on the floor. I snatch it up, reaching into it with my good hand. I find the base of the snowglobe and hold it out for Liam to see. The circular structure is free of any shards of glass, but it is also missing its usual signs of color and life.
Liam reads the quote aloud, his voice low and contemplative as he angles his head to examine the base with careful scrutiny. Moments later, he hands the cracked wooden base back to me.
Returning it to the depths of my backpack, I move to sit by Liam's side. I tip my head towards his silver laptop, willing myself to silence my erratic thoughts, at least for a while.
"Let's watch the rest of the movie."
And so, we spend the next forty minutes poking fun at the excessively gruesome killings, the masked villain, and the laughably naive protagonists. Liam's carefree smile in the screen's blue glow is enough for me to gradually distance myself from the world outside this room.
By the time the screen goes black for the end credits, it's well past ten. Liam turns to me quizzically as if to say, What now? I shrug in response, putting a hand to my mouth to cover my yawn.
Liam catches my infectious yawn and says with a small laugh, "Guess we should sleep."
I nod and climb off the bed, standing on tiptoe to stretch my sore legs. I reach down to my backpack to grab the toiletries bag that I had luckily remembered to bring with me from the pool.
"I'll be—"
I stop mid-sentence when I catch the look on Liam's face. He's staring at the two beds in the room, holding the back of his neck in the way he does when he's in deep thought.
My own thoughts wander back to the last time I was here. That bed, that pillow, those sheets . . . pulling the sweatshirt over his head, the fabric sliding past his bare shoulders.
Suddenly, I feel wide awake. I clear my throat loudly, snapping myself and Liam out of our reverie.
"I'll sleep in that one, okay?" I jerk my thumb towards his roommate's cold, untouched bed as Liam looks up.
"Oh," he nods, light red tinges forming on his cheeks. "Okay, sure."
It takes less than ten minutes for me to make a trip to the bathroom at the end of the corridor to brush my teeth. Before Liam goes to do the same, he reaches into his closet and hands me a pair of his sweatpants when I ask him for something to sleep in. Several sizes too big, I have to fold the bottom multiple times and tie the drawstring tight around my waist. Still, the pants — carrying the sweet, familiar scent of detergent that clings to all of his clothes — are comfortable.
When Liam reenters the room and finds me standing by the desk to charge my phone, he smiles and says with a wink, "Nice pants."
Laughing, I climb into the immaculately made bed, flinching from the initial shock of the cool sheets. Liam flips the light switch before he gets into his own bed. The temptation to slip under his covers and feel the warmth of his body is so compelling that I have to shut my eyes and force the thought away.
"Goodnight," I say after a deep breath.
"Goodnight," Liam replies.
With my eyes still closed, I try to quieten my mind and surrender to my exhaustion, but even after what feels like an hour, I can't help but toss and turn like a seasoned insomniac. Frustrated, I blink my eyes open and raise them to the darkened ceiling.
"Are you awake?" I whisper into the space separating us, quietly enough that Liam won't hear if he is asleep.
His instant reply is both surprising and relieving. "Yeah. Can't sleep."
"Me neither."
There's a long, heavy pause before Liam starts to say, "Maybe you . . ."
But I'm already throwing the covers back, swinging my legs off the bed, crossing the space between us soundlessly. Liam sighs in relief and makes room for me, his arms circling my waist as I put my head on his chest.
Warmth, comfort, trust. Finally.
"Goodnight," I say once more, my voice muffled by Liam's t-shirt.
"It is now," he says, lifting one hand to touch my cheek.
Smiling to myself, I close my eyes tight. And this time, sleep comes easy.
❅❅
Hey, guys! Thanks so much for reading this chapter. It's longer than usual and took quite a while to edit, but I hope you enjoyed it! ♡
Amethyst