“I know she’s your friend, but she’s not like…” I struggle to find the words that don’t sound cliche, “a good person. Before I even met her, Lily told me?—”
“Lily?”
I think time stops for a second, and in the pause I wonder how the fuck that even happened. I lock gazes with Grant and know why—the walls I’ve spent years building, the ones I’ve used not only to stave off having to be vulnerable, but to protect Will, are nowhere to be found. I’m defenseless around him.
And here I am, spilling secrets that aren’t even my own. Grant’s looking at me with honest, innocent confusion, and I consider whether I can avoid the worst parts of this.
“Uh, yeah. I kind of knew Lily before I knew Olivia.” My stomach churns.
“How?” And before I can answer: “I thought you met Olivia here?”
“I did.” I swallow, nervous to pull the dusty sheet off this old corner of my mind.
It would have been easy to forget about this, maybe even to forget about her, if Will hadn’t become so lost because of it.
Grant’s shaking his head, I realize, wanting to know more. I take a deep breath. He’s asking, and I don’t want to lie to him about something that isn’t even about me. It never was about me, and I shouldn’t have gotten involved to begin with.
“I met Lily the summer before our freshman year. Before we started here. Will and I were at a bonfire?—”
“Will met her?” A sense of urgency steadily grows in his tone, like he knows this isn’t all there is to it.
I nod my head slowly, biting down hard on my bottom lip. “They dated. It was just a summer thing though, and by the time college started it was over.” I attempt a nonchalant shrug, but I feel the tenseness in my shoulders. Saying it out loud, for the first time, sounds crazy.
“And Liv was just…okay with that?”
I don’t say anything for a beat, just think about how much I wish I hadn’t said her fucking name and how I should’ve known I wouldn’t feel this content forever.
“She doesn’t know.”
His jaw tenses and he doesn’t speak for a moment as he processes, staring past me at a point on the wall.
“What the actual fuck, Gen?” Disappointment and disbelief swirl in his gaze when he returns his attention to me.
I recoil, really not liking the way this feels. He’s looking at me like I’ve done some horrible thing, but this doesn’t even have anything todowith me.
“What?” Anger and annoyance try their best to pad against the sadness threatening to break the surface.
“Why haven’t you told her?”
“Because it’s none of my business,” I try to explain, but the sentence feels hollow.
His shocks morphs into sardonic laughter as he shakes his head, tilting it up toward the ceiling. “He told you not to tell her, didn’t he?”
Hot tears suddenly well behind my eyes and threaten to fall, but I look up, urging them to fall back down the way they came. “It was none of my business.”
I watch as a flurry of thoughts race in his mind before he resettles his gaze on me. The disappointment is still there, but it’s coated in a layer of care that feels suffocating at present. That same care was everything I could’ve ever wanted just hours ago, but now? I feel judged.
“I know you guys had a fucked up relationship,” he starts, speaking slowly like he’s processing as he speaks. “But he never should’ve asked you to keep a secret like that. You can still clear your conscience.”
The mention of Will and I’s dynamic, the way he’s so worried about what Liv knows or how she feels, the condescension I swear I hear in his voice—they have my voice hardening. “My conscience is clear. I don’tcarewhat she knows. That’s friendship, Grant. You do things for the people you love; you keep secrets and let them confide in you and you’re there for them,withoutjudgement.”
His jaw ticks in frustration, his eyes heated for all the wrong reasons.
“Why don’t youcare?”
“I—” I pause, taking a clarifying breath, trying to reel this back. “It’s not that easy now. And you weren’t there when she died—you didn’t see him. I did what seemed like the right thing at the time—for both of them. And now…it’s like, too late. They’re not even together,” I justify.
His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as he tips his head back, like he’s strugglingnotto argue back. I catch a glimpse of the Grant I used to know—the judgey one, the good guy, the one who’d never do anything that wasn’t above board, the one who wouldn’t even consider disappointing someone, even if it was for his own sake.
