Cookie

19

Since the night I opened my heart to Liam, I’ve felt lighter. Not because the pain or guilt has faded—if anything, I’ve come to fully accept my part in what happened that night. It was my fault. My sister died thinking I didn’t care enough about her. She died with her cheeks still wet from the tears I caused. And Luke… he died before I could truly know him, before I could admit I was wrong about him. Before I could tell him I knew he loved Criss.

That will haunt me forever—along with the memory of Luke shielding her, whispering his love as she screamed his name.

But despite the weight I’ll always carry, I feel stronger now. More at peace. Liam has been incredible these last three months, always there, never wavering. We talk for hours about everything—from school to life-changing decisions. He trains with me every week, teaching me discipline, pushing me to be stronger. And sometimes, when I catch myself watching him, I wonder why he’s so good to me. I wonder how easy it would be to love him.

The truth is, my feelings for Liam have only grown, but our relationship hasn’t changed. That almost kiss never happened again. We don’t talk about it. We don’t talk about feelings at all. He makes his usual comments, and I pretend not to hear them. I pretend not to react when he’s too close, when his touch lingers. And he pretends not to notice.

Our Monday movie nights are still a thing, though the group has grown. Liam and Logan joined first, then Alicia, then Cassie from my literature class. Soon after, John and Freddie—two of Logan’s classmates—came along. Cassie’s boyfriend, Paul, and his best friend, Ian, followed. Finally, Franci, a friend of Mary’s from her art class, completed the group.

It’s funny how just months ago, I only had Mary. Now, I have this entire group of friends, people I spend almost every day with. We eat lunch together, sit next to each other in class, and hang out on Thursdays. Fridays are for fun—parties, shopping, bowling. Sundays? Girls’ days. Just us, while the guys go for drinks. Every other Sunday, Liam and Logan’s friends from the next town visit, and we throw a party at their place.

I don’t know all of them yet, but I’ve gotten close to Greg—Liam’s best friend. I also know Tina and Jeremy, the couple who made that leash joke, and Christina, a hilarious redhead. The rest? Still a mystery. No matter how many times I ask Liam to remind me of their names, my brain refuses to cooperate.

These past three months have been good. I’ve started healing. I’ve made friends. I’ve laughed. I’ve lived. Even school feels different—people don’t mess with me anymore. Part of that is Liam. No one dares cross me when he’s around. But it’s also me. I’m not the same girl I was. I stand up for myself now.

Everyone backed off. Everyone except Tiffany.

She still tries. The pranks, the insults—Liam’s bitch, Death Note, calling me Criss just to watch me flinch. But I don’t give her the reaction she wants anymore. I ignore her.

Now, with December around the corner, we’re all at Liam’s place, sprawled across his living room. Some of us on the couch, some in chairs, and Liam and I—like always—on the floor. I sit on my knees on the plush white carpet, and he’s next to me, his leg bent behind me so I can lean against it, his arm draped lazily over my thighs.

We’re always like this. Always touching. Wrapped around each other, even if it’s just a hand on a knee, a shoulder against a chest. Everyone thinks it’s weird, but no one says anything. At least, not when we’re around.

“We should spend New Year’s at my parents’ mountain cabin,” Tina suggests. “It’s a few hours away, but it’s huge, with a pool and an amazing view. It’ll be fun.”

Liam speaks before I can. “Let’s just do it here,” he says, glancing at me. “I want to be close to my parents this year.”

His parents aren’t staying home. They’re leaving after Christmas—same as mine, off to some luxury resort. But he says this for me. He knows I haven’t been in a car since that night.

I lean in so only he can hear. “Let’s go to Tina’s. I’ll be fine.”

His jaw tightens. “No, cookie. We can have fun here too. Besides, you can’t even get in a car, let alone handle a two-hour drive.”

I smile, resting my head against his shoulder. “I can get into a car, Liam. I just choose not to.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “You haven’t been in one since that night, Nataly. How are you gonna handle the drive?”

“Easy. I’ll start letting Mary drive me to school. I’ll get used to it.”

Liam sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head before turning to the group. “Fine. Mountain cabin it is.”

Everyone cheers, and across the room, Mary sends me a questioning look. I nod, letting her know I’m really doing this. She relaxes, smiling as she blows me a kiss.

The conversation shifts to planning—who’s driving, who’s bringing what, Secret Santa. Liam, Logan, Mary, and I will ride together. Liam will be the one driving.

Of course, he will.

“Are you sure about this, Nataly?” he murmurs.

I nod.

He exhales heavily. “Fine. But I’m driving you everywhere from now on.”

I roll my eyes. “Liam, I can’t keep bothering you—”

“Not up for discussion, cookie.” He pulls me closer. “If you’re getting in a car, it’s gonna be with me.”

I swallow past the warmth in my chest. “Thank you.”

His lips graze my forehead. “Always.”

By the time we settle the trip details, the conversation turns to Christmas. Everyone wants to spend the 25th with their families, so we decide to leave for the cabin on the 28th and return on the 1st.

Then Mary brings up caroling.

“Every year, the Monday Movie Night crew goes caroling on Christmas Eve,” she says. “We only go to family houses, but it’s a tradition.”

I love the idea. It reminds me of how Criss and I used to do the same with our parents, visiting neighbors, drinking hot chocolate.

The guys, however, are not on board.

Liam refuses first, followed by John, Freddie, and Paul. Ian insists there’s no way in hell he’s doing something so childish—until Alicia bats her lashes at him. Suddenly, he’s reconsidering.

“Come on, Liam.” I tilt my head up at him. “If you say no, the rest of them will too. Please?”

He groans. “Nope. Not happening, cookie.”

My smile fades as I get lost in the memory of Criss and me, bundled up in scarves, singing off-key, our parents laughing beside us. Last year was the first time we didn’t go. Last year, Christmas wasn’t a celebration. It was a reminder.

Liam watches me closely. He doesn’t have to ask. I already know what he’s thinking.

I offer a small smile. “Criss and I used to go every year with our parents. It was… special.”

He exhales heavily, dropping his forehead to mine in surrender.

“Fine,” he says to the group. “I’ll do it. But no Santa costumes. Or any other stupid shit.”

I laugh as he leans in, whispering against my ear.

“You owe me, cookie.”

I turn my head, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I know.”

His grin is smug, but his arm tightens around me, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I belong.