I shouldn’t accept it—I’ve literally got my coat right behind me, hanging off my chair. But he’s offering it to me.
And I’m a glutton for punishment.
His sweatshirt is warm and coated in his scent, chlorine and citrus, cedar and skin. I pop out my hearing aids and slip it on. It’s too big: The sleeves cover my hands until I shove them up. Liam’s grinning at me, biting his lower lip.
“What?”
“Your hair looks cute.”
I reach up to fix it until I realize what he said.
Cute?He had to have used the wrong sign. He still gets things mixed up sometimes.
But I blush nonetheless, put my hearing aids back in, grab my tea to keep my hands busy.
Liam picks his mocha back up and blows on it, then finally takes a decent sip. My tea’s already a quarter gone. Why order a hot drink if you’re going to let it cool?
When he puts it back down, he says, “I wish we’d gotten to be friends sooner.”
“Me too. I’m glad you tried out.”
“Oh? Is that the only reason we’re friends now? I finally joined Theatre?”
“Not the only reason,” I say. “But we got to hang out more.”
Which was thebest worstbest thing to ever happen to me.
“What made you audition, anyway? You already have college all sorted out.”
Liam scrunches his lips. “I don’t know. It looked fun.”
“That’s it? It looked fun?”
“I’ve spent the last four years—no, ten—swimming nonstop. My parents said that was the best way to get into college, so I kept at it.”
“You didn’t like it?”
“I love swimming, but... I don’t know. It always felt like it was for my parents. For my future. But Theatre, that’s just for me.” He gives me a tiny smile.
“That makes sense.”
“Good. And I’m really glad I did.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s amazing, getting up onstage and becoming someone different.”
“I guess.”
“What about you? You never wanted to act?”
“I used to. But I like doing tech better. I’m good at it.”
“You really are. I don’t know anyone as talented as you.”
I sip my tea and try to cover my blush. Besides. He’s the talented one.
I raise my cup. “To Viola.”
