All of Me

twenty six • sweet dreams

• • •

Liam's been totally soft for two days. It didn't take too long for me to find out he fought with Davis on Wednesday, before I stayed the night, and I guess Davis threw me under the bus. He seems to hate me, like he has any right when he's the one who hurt me. I think he thinks I'm stealing Liam from him, like there's a friendship for me to ruin, or that I'm not good enough.

It's hard not to think that myself. The thought has plagued me my whole life, but it's getting easier to believe Liam when he holds my hands and my gaze and tells me that he loves me, that I am more than enough, that Davis is an asshole.

I know they're brothers. I know what these frats are like. I know Liam won't – can't – cut Davis out. I don't expect him to. But they're not talking, and Liam's spare time is spent with me. I'm not scheduled to work tonight so as soon as Gray can tear himself from Navya, we'll head home for the weekend.

He's taken to joining her for her Psych 320 class, and occasionally sitting beside her in Bio 430. He always comes out baffled by how little sense it makes to him, and rambling away about how clever Navya is, how in awe of her intelligence he is. Honestly, so am I. She's crazy clever, and as loud and enthusiastic as she is, she keeps her smarts on the downlow.

They'll be done in twenty minutes. I'm waiting in the café off campus, a slice of Victoria sponge in front of me, a fork dangling from my hand, and Liam's eyes boring a hole into mine. I don't even realize until he nudges me, and he laughs when I jump and drop my fork.

"You were a million miles away." His foot finds mine under the table, slipping off his sandal to run his toe up my calf. "What's on your mind, fable?"

"Fable?"

"That's a story, right?" He steals a bite of my cake even though he had a whole slice to himself. His toe is tickling my leg. It sends a warm shiver up my spine.

"That's cute," I murmur. "You're cute. But it's not cute to take my cake." I slap his hand away and take a defiant bite. It's a bit much. I choke on my mouthful. Liam laughs and scoots over to my side of the booth to hit my back, and his hand stays there when I recover before it moves to my shoulder.

"What's going on in there?" He taps my head.

"Just thinking," I say. "Everything and nothing."

"That's a lot." There's a note of genuine concern in his voice.

"The usual," I say. He doesn't know the half of it. If I gave him a glimpse inside my head, he'd run a mile. I have no idea how to bring up the A word. I've only ever actively told one person that I'm autistic. Obviously Tad knows, and the college admin team, but Gray's the only person I've really told.

Liam squeezes my shoulder and leans close to murmur, "The usual sounds exhausting."

I wonder if he gets it. Would he get it? Or would he get all awkward and start treating me differently? I really don't know. I couldn't take it if everything changed because of a word. It would kill me if I told him about a part of myself that I've kept buried my whole life, and he made me wish I'd buried it deeper.

"It really is," I say with a sigh that comes out heavier than I mean it to. I rest my head against Liam's cheek, nestled against him, until my brain suddenly latches onto one of millions of thoughts that are flitting around my brain at any one time. It forces me to sit straight when it launches itself to the forefront of my thoughts. "Oh!"

"Jesus, Storie!" Liam cries out, clutching his rib, where I accidentally jammed my elbow when I lurched forwards.

"Sorry!"