Page 32 of Liam

Liam nods, his ocean-blue eyes made even brighter by the sunlight filtering through the kitchen window. “You want to grab something from the diner instead?”

My pulse kicks up a notch. From fear or excitement, I can’t be sure. “Yeah, I’d like that… a lot.” I conceal my smile while returning my food to the fridge, then recompose myself before turning back to him.

“You really saving that for later?” he asks, motioning to the fridge.

“I have a…thing.”

He leads the way outside. “Athing?”

Dayna calls itfood insecurity,a by-product of the days I went without. But… Liam doesn’t need to know that, and I don’t know why I mentioned it at all. “It’s nothing.”

We’re by his older-model minivan now, and he opens the passenger door for me, waiting until I’m settled in before closing it. I’ve seen the minivan plenty in the days I’ve been here, but never had a peek inside. There are cables everywhere and camera mounts on the dash and windshield. Some of their most popular content is their “car videos,” where he and Lincoln just sit in the front seats, eating junk and talking shit. They always do it in the middle of the night, when they’re bone-deep tired. Apparently, it makes them more entertaining.

Liam gets behind the wheel and doesn’t say a word as he brings the engine to life. We’re halfway down the driveway before either of us speaks. “No offense,” I start, at the same time he asks, “How have you been?”

“Good,” I answer.

“No offense, what?” he asks, focused on the road ahead.

I adjust in my seat, trying to ease the nerves pulsing through my bloodline. “I was just going to say that I don’t really see you as the minivan type.”

Gaze remaining forward, he tilts his head slightly, and for a long moment, he doesn’t respond. I’m about to apologize in case I actuallyhaveoffended him. “The car was my mom’s,” he reveals. “It’s one of the last physical things we have of hers. Sheonly got it, like, a year before she died. It’s gone from one of us kids to the next and, honestly, I think it costs more to run than to sell, but no one’s ready to part with it yet.”

My chest tightens at his words. “I’m sorry,” I tell him as he pulls onto the road. “How old were you when?—”

“Four.”

His phone rings before I can respond, and he’s quick to answer it with a “Yeah?”

The name on the car stereo appears as “Lachy”, and his voice plays through the speakers. “Can you pick me up from school? It’s eleventy-three degrees out, and I don’t want to ride the bus.”

“No.”

“Bruh.” He pauses a beat. “There’s a literal trail of sweat streaming from my ballsallthe way down my leg.”

I don’t stifle my giggle in time.

“What the fuck?” Lachy says. “Who is that?”

“Ride the bus,” Liam deadpans.

“You’re really going to let your baby brother melt to death on the leather seats of a school bus? On the last day of school? Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m telling Dad.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m telling Lucy.”

“Lachy…”

“What?”

“You realize you’re fifteen, right?”

“I’m telling Mia.”

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