by Laura Ward
I nodded reluctantly.
Liam gave me another chaste kiss. “Glad we understand each other.” He stood up, bringing me with him as he sat down on the bench, pulling me against him until my body was perfectly molded into his side.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a whisper.
His laugh was silent, but I felt it rumble through his chest and into me. “If we’re going to stay and visit, we might as well be comfortable.”
When he ran his fingertips along my arm and kissed the tip of my nose before settling in for a nice, long visit at my sister’s grave, I fell deeper for him. Just when I thought he already owned every inch of my heart, he stole another piece and tucked it away for safekeeping.
Liam O’Connell was the good kind of trouble.
Chapter Twelve
Mom smoothed down the cream and pink floral comforter for the umpteenth time. The neutral backdrop of the bedding was mom’s version of a compromise. I was too undone to care.
“Looks great, Mom.”
She stood up straight and walked over to where I stood next to my dad. My roommate, Taren, had walked her aunt down to the parking lot to say good-bye. I wanted to get my farewells over with while we had the privacy.
Mom’s fingers trailed across the pale wood of my desk. “These rooms are tiny. Do you want me to take anything extra back home with us?”
I smiled and shook my head. This was my mom. Fretting. Nagging. Showing her love in her own way. She was worried to leave me, but for her, saying those words was impossible. So she doted and smoothed and stewed.
“She’s fine, dear.” Dad leaned over and kissed my cheek. I turned to face him, and he held both my hands in his. “Alexis, my sweet girl, I want you to take advantage of all the opportunities college offers. And don’t forget to have fun.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Mom interrupted. “Not too much fun! You must be careful.”
Mom’s voice had risen in pitch, and I couldn’t hold back the giggle that burst from my lips. “I will, Mom. I promise.”
Dad laughed too and then pulled me in for a hug. “You are bound to do great things, Alexis. Who knows?” he whispered in my ear. “You just might be the one to cure cancer one day.”
Tears filled my eyes and spilled out, running down my cheeks. The lump that formed in my throat held back my sob. Only a father who adored everything about his daughter would have that kind of confidence in her, to think that she might be able to cure the disease that could kill him at any time. I pressed my face into his chest and held him tightly to me.
Unlike my mom, who wielded guilt and coercion to keep Sam and me in line, Dad’s pressure came from a place of true honesty. He never intended to lay those sorts of high expectations on me, but his all-consuming confidence brought stress nonetheless. And with it a crushing desire to live up to those expectations—take advantage of opportunities, have fun, keep my grades up so I could get into medical school, become a doctor so I could cure cancer.
I couldn’t save Sam, but maybe I could help my dad. If I could accomplish the things he expected of me, it would give him hope. I wanted to make him proud of me.
I released him from the hug and looked up, ready to promise him all those things just as my mother stepped closer.
“Dear,” she said in warning, handing my dad a tissue.
He let go of me and grabbed the tissue. He turned away but not before I saw the blood slipping out of his nose. I’d done my research later that night after I visited Sam’s grave. I knew what that blood meant. My father kept his face turned away as he cleaned himself up.
The pressure of thoughts and hopes and expectations stole the air from my lungs, and I stepped back to lean against my desk, placing my hands on my knees. My body bent in half, and I gasped for breath. It took me a few seconds to get myself under control.
“Alexis?” My mom rubbed my back.
“I’m okay.” I stood up and forced a smile on my face as I met her worried gaze. She needed to focus on Dad. I didn’t want her worried about me too. “You two need to get going. Dad’s appointment is in a few hours, and you might hit traffic.”
Dad stepped forward to hug me before kissing the top of my head. “I love you.”
I buried my face in his shoulder like I was five years old again. “Love you too.”
“Be good.” Mom hugged me and then pulled back to look into my eyes. “I know we’ve had a rough summer, but I love you, Alexis.”
I nodded and chewed on my bottom lip. “I know, Mom. I love you too.”
They left just as Taren walked back in. “There’s a mass exodus of parents out there. It’s madness.” She grabbed a hanger and hung a shirt in her closet.
My phone dinged.
Liam: You okay?
Me: I will be.
Liam: Damn right you will
***
Taren passed the bottle of rum back to me, and I took another long swig. The alcohol burned going down, but the comforting numbness that coursed through my veins made it worthwhile. For the first time in days, my headache was gone. Or was it my heartache?
“Let’s go,” Julie, our dorm mate who lived across the hall, announced. She leaped to her feet with the lithe grace of a dancer. Julie was petite, standing just barely over five feet. She wore her dark brown hair in a modern bob and was rocking a tiny skirt and equally minuscule tube top. She led the way out of our room and down the stairs.
“Are you sure about this?” I whispered to Taren. None of us knew each other well, and yet Taren trusted Julie with organizing our plans for the night. And it wasn’t just being with people I didn’t know that had me worried. Our destination was freaking me out a little too. Frat Row. On my first night at college. Was I crazy to go along with this?
Downstairs we joined the rest of the freshmen who were catching a bus and heading to the biggest party scene in College Park. It was so not my world. I’d never even been to the levees. That was high school partying. Now I was in the big leagues with a college frat party?
“Not at all.” Taren winked. “But this is the new me. I’m trying to think of what I would have done back in high school and then do the exact opposite of that now.” We laughed as we walked onto the bus. Taren sat next to Julie, who had turned around to chat with a group of boys.
I pulled out my phone.
Me: What are you up to?
Liam: Heading to the levees
Unpacked yet?
Me: Yes. Heading to a party.
Liam: Really? Where? You aren’t alone are you?
Me: With my roommate and a girl from our floor. Got invited to a fraternity party.
Liam: Tell me you aren’t going to frat row.
Me: Ummmm…
Liam: Shit
Please be careful
His message came through, and two seconds later another one followed.
Liam: Fuck, I’m gonna worry about you all night
Me: I’ll be careful. Trust me. Text you in a bit.
There was a pause. I pictured Liam, his Jeep pulled off to the side of the road, lighting a cigarette to soothe his nerves. I could only imagine how he felt. If our situations were reversed and he was the one heading to a college party while I was at home, I would be sick to my stomach.
Liam: Have fun, baby
I’ll wait for your call
***
An hour later I was ready to leave. As soon as we arrived, we were handed beers. I avoided participating in a beer pong game with some preppy-looking fraternity boy, and Taren left to hang out with the guy who had invited us. Julie danced her heart out for the rest of the hour. Me? I stood back against the wall and missed Liam. Pathetic? Melissa would definitely think so.
Me: Checking in. I’m alive. Ha! Not my scene after all.
A minute later a smile broke out across my face when I saw Liam’s name.
Liam: Why’s that? Prepster douchebags don’t do it for you?
Me: No, I prefer bad boys who dress in black but have a heart of gold.
Again there was a pause. The typing icon blinked under my message, and I pictured Liam walking away from the crowd at the levees.
Liam: No one’s ever said my heart was anything other than hard
Me: Then they didn’t know the real you.
Liam: God I miss you
Me: I’ll text you when I’m in bed.
***
“How about this one? Can I chuck it?” Julie held up my white sweater—the lightweight, short one that I wore to the carnival with Liam. She was cleaning out both Taren’s closets and mine. We had asked her for help since our wardrobes were in desperate need of a makeover. Julie’s style was modern and chic—perfect for college. Mine was cute and virginal—perfect for a twelve-year-old at church.
Like Taren, college was becoming a fresh start for me. I hadn’t told one person here about Sam. I wasn’t sure why that was. After a week of hanging out, walking to classes, and sharing meals, I trusted Taren and Julie. I felt closer to them than I ever had to Talia and MaryAnn. But for some reason I wasn’t ready to share Sam.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized I was keeping a lot of secrets, not just Sam. They didn’t know about Liam or my dad either. Julie and Taren knew Liam was my boyfriend, but I hadn’t given them many details. Maybe it was because I worried that, like everyone else, they’d judge him wrongly. Liam held my heart in his hands. He knew who I loved, who I missed, who I struggled to please, and who I prayed got better with every ounce of faith that remained in my soul. He knew me better than anyone.
As for my dad, my feelings over his diagnosis were still too raw to speak about. Knowing that he’d be fighting a battle against cancer while I was at school left me confused. I felt ashamed that I wasn’t at home with him, but as I ate pizza, sipped coffee, and watched reality television with my new friends, I was a little relieved too.
So I lied about my life at home. It was more a sin of omission, but it was still lying. My new friends didn’t know the real me. Only Liam did.
My heart rate sped up when I looked at the white sweater and thought about that night with Liam. I shook my head and pointed to the sweater. “No, that one stays.”
Julie lifted her chin in the direction of the photo of Liam and me on my dresser. “Aha. You wore this one when you were out with the hottie eye candy. I hear you. Keep it for the memories.” She placed the sweater back on a hanger. “But this polyester shirt. No memory could salvage its place in your closet.”
I laughed but offered no argument.
“She’s brutal,” Taren commented as she flipped through a magazine of Julie’s.
“She’s right. Out it goes.” I grinned at Julie, and she gave me a cheesy thumbs-up as she tossed the shirt aside.
My iPad lit up with an incoming text. I bit my bottom lip to keep from squealing out loud when I saw Liam’s name.
Liam: What’re you doing tonight?
I curled up on my bed to respond. While I didn’t talk about Liam to the girls, I talked to Liam constantly. We spoke on the phone, sent pictures on Snapchat, and texted throughout the day and night. I felt like he was a part of my college journey.
Me: Julie’s going through my closet, getting rid of my boring & unfashionable clothes. May have to go naked until new clothes we are ordering arrive.
Liam: Fuck, Lex
Don’t use the word naked when I’m away from you
And none of your clothes are boring
You look hot
Always
He sent the message, but the typing icon blinked, so I waited for him to continue. I pressed my palms to my cheeks. They were warm to the touch. Liam could make me crave him, even over texts. After reading his message, I guessed the feeling was mutual.
Liam: Don’t change for anyone else, Lex
Seriously
You’re perfect just like you are
I pressed my lips together. If Julie or Taren looked over and saw me smiling like a loon, they’d start asking questions. I wanted my time with Liam to be only ours.
Me: I hope you still think that when Julie chops off my hair! Eeep!
I chewed on my bottom lip while my stomach did somersaults. Liam loved to play with my hair. When Julie suggested a trim that would leave my hair manageable and make me older-looking, I worried he wouldn’t like it. Or be upset.
Liam: What the fuck? Not your hair
You have the sexiest hair in the world
Don’t cut it
Don’t listen to this chick
She’s probably just jealous
Yup, upset.
Me: Ha! No, Julie’s not jealous. She’s gorgeous. She’s trying to get us ready to rush.
Now the somersaults in my belly had turned into battling sumo wrestlers. After Liam’s worry about me attending the frat party the first night, I hadn’t bothered to mention the fact that I was planning to join the Greek system. He told me to go and make friends and have fun, but would this be too much for him to handle?
Liam: Rush?
Me: A sorority. We decided to rush a sorority.
Waiting, waiting. Hoping, hoping. I held my breath.
Liam: Why?
Me: For fun. You know, to make new friends.
Liam: Sororities party with frat guys, Lex
Is that what you want?
How could he even think that? I told him that the party scene wasn’t for me. He was the only guy I wanted. But sorority sisters? It would be nice to call someone a sister again. Besides, I didn’t give him a hard time about going to the levees.
Me: No. I don’t have to go to parties. But I would like to make more girlfriends. You know, ones that are loyal and not like Melissa.
I waited for a response.
Me: Are you mad?
Still no response. Shit.
Liam: No
Gotta run
Just, don’t change on me
You don’t need to be anyone other than yourself
Believe me
Me: I do. But I need this too. You can trust me, Liam.
There was a pause, and I wondered if he’d ask me not to rush.
Liam: Always, Lex
I’ll always trust you
And that right there was how I knew that Liam O’Connell was the real deal. We cared for each other, but more than that, we trusted each other.
Chapter Thirteen
I ripped open the yellow padded envelope that was in my mailbox, eager to find out what was inside. Seeing Liam’s name on the return address was enough to send my excitement into overdrive. Every single text he sent was a gift, something I treasured until we’d finally see each other again. But a care package? It made my insides go all gooey knowing he’d gone the extra step to prove he was still thinking of me.
I pulled out the object inside, shoving the empty envelope in my purse as I slid my key into the lock. I shut the door behind me and looked at the object in my hand—a black box with a note wrapped around it. I unfolded the letter.
Angel—
I saw this in that shop next to Scoops, and I knew it was meant for you. I’m not there to point them out or hunt them down with you, so keep this one with you to let you know Sam is always thinking of you. You already know I’m always thinking of you.
—Liam
I yanked the top off the box to find a velvet drawstring bag. I reached inside and pulled out a slim silver bangle bracelet with a rainbow charm hanging from it. It was one of those stacking charm bracelets that were so popular. And it was all the more special because I knew money was tight for Liam. For him this gift was a small sacrifice. For me it was a constant reminder of how much he meant to me.
I slipped my hand through the thin band and felt a smile explode across my face as the rainbow settled along my forearm. My heart was full as I stared down at the innocent charm that was a symbol of so much to me—Sam’s memory, Liam’s affection, and hope for a happy future.
I grabbed my phone, my fingers trembling as I tried to type a message. It took me several tries
to make it legible.
Me: How do you always know the perfect thing to say or do? I love my bracelet.
His response was almost immediate.
Liam: Glad you like it
Once I saw it, I knew it had to be yours
Me: Thank you. I just can’t imagine you going into that froufrou shop. How did you end up there?
Liam: Missing you so I went to Scoops to try your usual
Saw the bracelet in the window when I walked by
My stomach clenched at the idea of Liam going to Scoops alone. It didn’t feel right.
Me: How was the usual?
Liam: Rather have you on my tongue
My knees gave out on me, and I sat down heavily on my bed. I’d rather be on his tongue too.
Me: Hold on to that thought. I’ll be home this weekend.
Liam: I’ll be waiting
***
I expected my dad to pick me up from school late Saturday morning, but it was my mom. The idea of an hour in the car fending off her questions almost made me change my mind and stay at school, but then I remembered how much I wanted to see my dad. And Liam. God, I was almost crawling out of my skin with need to see Liam. I could suffer through an hour of my mom’s interrogations if I knew my two favorite guys were the reward at the end of the trip.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked, dropping my overnight bag into the back seat.
She looked in the rearview mirror and reapplied her lipstick. Mom always looked impeccable. There was never an excuse to be sloppy.
“He was a little tired after his treatment yesterday, so he’s taking a nap. He wanted to make sure he was rested for when you got home.” She refused to look at me, which gave me a bad feeling. “Ready?” she asked, sitting back in her seat.
I nodded as I buckled up, trying to decipher all the things my mother wasn’t saying. I’d already asked her about Dad’s treatments dozens of times over the phone, and she refused to give me any details. I wasn’t going to worry any less if I didn’t have facts. Did she not realize I had access to the Internet, WebMD, and an overactive imagination? I hoped the worst-case scenarios I was reading about online and devising in my head weren’t even close to what my father was actually going through. I knew fatigue was one of the side effects of chemo, but so were nausea and pain. My stomach twisted uncomfortably with worry.