Page 46 of Liam

Liam nods at his twin, then turns his attention to me. That slight smirk returns. “I’ll see you later?”

It’s the second time he’s asked me today. The first time, I thought “Hopefully.” This time, I say it loud.

Liam holds my stare a beat, then sidesteps me to join his brother. Before they disappear from my view, Lincoln asks, “What the fuck are you listening to?”

I don’t hear what Liam says in return. I just watch through the living room window as they walk toward the minivan, in sync. Then open the car doors, in sync. Sit down. In sync.

They both pull out their phones, in sync, and a second later, my phone vibrates in my back pocket.

Liam

I hope so too.

I stare at the message for far too long, and when I look out the window again, they’re gone.

The song has ended now, another replacing it, and I look over at Liam’s computer screens. A playlist is up on one of them. Untitled. Only two songs. My favorite is the first, and “The Way” by Fastball, which is currently playing.

I move closer. Curious. And check out the rest of his things. His desk is tidy, everything in its place. The keyboard and mouse are faded in areas that have the most contact, and beside it, beneath a pen, is an open notebook. Not a notebook. A planner. Strange, considering how much technology he has at his fingertips, that he would choose to use a physical planner. Still, it gives me an insight into who he is. For a boy, Liam’s handwriting is neat. Each day planned out with the hours to spend on tasks, but no times. Three hours for content. Two hours for edits. An hour for admin, etc.

Like his desk, the planner is neat. Organized. The only thing that doesn’t make sense is the tiny initials or codes at the corner of some days.

Or.

Pp.

Lb.

I glance outside, make sure their car is still gone, before moving the pen and looking at the previous dates.

Yl.

Wt.

Db.

My curiosity gets the best of me, and I snap a picture, then spend the rest of the afternoon alone, trying to figure out what it means.

Liam

Hugging Adelaide Baker feels exactly how I imagined it. Not the version of her now, but the onebefore. Before we both made irreparable choices that inevitably changed the course of our lives. The version of her who sat with me in the nurse’s office while I tried to convince myself my arm wasn’t broken, even though I knew it was.

I wanted to appear brave for her then, because she looked like she neededsomeoneto be. She looked like she needed someone to hold her. Someone toprotecther.

“Did you hear me?” Lincoln asks, pulling me from my daze.

I focus on sorting the battery packs for our camera equipment—a task I usually prepare the night prior to filming content, but clearly, I was more than a little distracted last night. “Sorry. I checked out.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he states.

We’re parked outside an old building that our brother Logan is currently working on. So far, there are shops on the lower level, a gym, and a few offices. Lincoln invested some of our earnings into the gym part of it, and we’ve been filming and sharing the progress from start to finish. It was completed a few months ago, but once the signs went up, we had to be more careful about what we posted. Sharing who we are is one thing. Sharingwherewe are is a mistake we won’t make again. Hopefully, I can edit this content enough so we don’t reveal too much.

“I said I’m thinking about moving to Germany,” Lincoln says.

I slip the last of the backup batteries in the bag and zip it shut. “Oh, yeah?”

“Julie’s thinking of taking a gap year, so I might go with her.”

“That’s cool.”

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