Liam eyes the logo on the bottle, a smile spreading wide across his face. “It’s Bristol, baby?”
“It’s Bristol, baby!”
“How many times,” he asks as he shifts the car into drive, “have you been to the Bristol Motor Speedway?”
“Probably the same number of times you’ve been to Hattiesburg, Mississippi.”
“So, twice?”
“Precisely. But let me explain.” I tuck my feet beneath me and twist to face him as he drives. “People from Bristol don’t have to go to the speedway all that often to feel connected to it. It’s a state of being. A higher plane. It’sinus.”
“It’s Bristol, baby.”
“Now you’re getting it.”
“Did you live on the Tennessee side or the Virginia side of the city?” he asks.
“Tennessee.”
“You seem like a Tennessee girl.”
“You seem like a Georgia boy.”
“You’re only saying that because I brought a bag of peaches to your apartment.”
“You also texted me a picture of boiled peanuts you bought off a roadside vendor,” I remind him. “Dead giveaway.”
Liam snorts.
“Boiled peanuts are disgusting.”
“Boiled peanuts areinme,” Liam mocks.
The drive from my apartment to campus is short, and we pull onto the main drag of the university a few minutes later. Liam navigates the truck through a construction zone and into a secret lot behind it, parking near the gate to the practice fields.
“The gear is in my truck bed,” he says.
We climb out of the car, but just as I’m heading around to help him unload, my phone rings; it’s Maisy.
“Hey,” I say, answering without question.
“Hey, sorry, I’m ready now.”
She’s readynow?
We were supposed to lie out at her apartment pool four hours ago. I took off work this afternoon specifically so we could do that together since it was the first truly hot day of the season. Zara asked if I wanted to go thrifting with her at 2:30, and I turned her down in case Maisy texted saying she was headed down to the pool, that I should come over.
I glance at the sky. There are still a few dwindling hours of daylight left, but in late April, it’ll be way too cold to swim.
“Is everything okay? Did something bad happen this afternoon?” I ask.
“No, but lunch with my roommates ran long, and then Iwanted to get a manicure and work out and grocery shop before we drank by the pool all night. I just put my bathing suit on. Oh! I also finagled us a twelve-pack of your favorite beer. The one from Wicked Weed?”
My stomach plummets.
I flick my eyes to Liam. He’s leaning his elbows on the edge of his truck bed, watching me with a concerned expression.
“The thing is, Maisy, I’m with a friend now. I thought you were bailing on me.”
