Cookie

22

Every single muscle in my body aches today. Yesterday's weight training session was brutal-sixty minutes of non-stop lifting, and it was anything but fun. My body is stronger now, my muscles tighter and leaner, but no matter how fit I get, the soreness always hits hard the next day.

Over the past three months, I've changed a lot. I can easily lift ten kilograms now, run for an hour at top speed on the treadmill, and I know much more than just how to throw a punch. If Liam is tired or unfocused, I can sometimes even get the upper hand when we practice self-defense scenarios. But when it comes to the kickboxing ring? I get my ass handed to me every time.

So yeah, today is not a good day. Not for me, and definitely not for my body. Even when Liam picked me up for school this morning-like he has for most of the week-and handed me a painkiller, it didn't help much.

"Nataly, are you sure you're okay? You look like you're in a lot of pain."

Mary's concerned voice breaks through my thoughts during history class. She sits behind me with Logan, while Liam is next to me. We switched seats in the second week of school when Liam bribed Mary with a massive box of her favorite chocolates to move without a fight.

"I'm fine. Just sore from yesterday's workout."

I turn away from her just as she places a hand on my shoulder. My breath catches, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from groaning. Okay-this hurts way more than usual.

"You should take something for the pain. Twinkle, this is like the tenth time she's been in pain after your damn training," Mary snaps at Liam. "You promised to take care of her!"

Liam frowns but doesn't argue. He must've seen the way I flinched because he turns his attention to me instead.

"Cookie, does it really hurt that bad?"

I nod, pressing my lips together.

"Where?"

I lift my hand, pointing to my right shoulder, where it feels like tiny knives are stabbing into my muscles. Worse than the usual post-workout soreness, but definitely not as bad as a broken rib.

Without hesitation, Liam asks Mary to switch seats when the teacher enters the room. He pulls my cardigan off my shoulder, exposing my skin, and turns to his brother.

"Logan, do you have the cream with you?"

Seconds later, I feel the cool sensation of the menthol cream against my skin, followed by the warmth of Liam's hands as he massages it in slow, circular motions. The contrast-cold from the cream, heat from his touch-is almost dizzying.

I can feel the eyes on us, the amused glances, the barely concealed smirks. Liam doesn't seem to care. He just keeps going, completely unbothered. Even Mary is biting her lip, trying not to burst into laughter. She's always teasing me about our "weird friendship," as she calls it.

The bell rings, and before I can even thank him, Liam stands up and heads for the door.

"See you at the cafeteria," he calls over his shoulder, disappearing down the hallway.

Logan and Mary exchange looks before bursting into laughter.

"I'll catch up with you," I mumble, slipping away toward the restroom. I need to make sure I don't have cream all over my clothes. That stuff stains like nothing else.

"I'm coming with you, Twinkle."

Mary grabs my hand, grinning like a kid about to cause trouble.

"So... what's up with you and Mr. Magic Fingers?"

I nearly choke. "Magic Fingers?! Seriously, Mary?"

She smirks. "Oh, come on. He was all over you in class. That was not normal 'friendship behavior.'"

I roll my eyes, laughing. "I told you a million times-we're just friends."

Mary stops me in my tracks, forcing me to look at her. "Bullshit, Twinkle. You're crazy about him, and we all know it."

My stomach drops. "Wait-everyone knows?" My eyes widen in horror.

She sighs, shaking her head. "Nataly, he's even crazier about you. When you're not around, Liam talks about you nonstop. It's actually painful to listen to. And guess what? He hasn't dated anyone in months."

My heart clenches. My mom mentioned something similar the other day-how Liam's mother said he always talks about me, how she's never seen me happier than when I'm with him.

I look at Mary with pleading eyes. "I think I'm in love with him."

Mary squeals and starts jumping around like an excited child.

"Hey, stop! Nothing is going to happen, Mary. He doesn't want a relationship."

Mary just smirks. "Oh, he wants everything with you, Twinkle. Just wait and see."

We walk into the bathroom-then freeze.

Liam is there. With a girl.

She's practically wrapped around him, her shirt on the floor, wearing nothing but a bra and a tiny skirt. One of her legs is hooked around his waist, her hands in his hair, her lips swollen.

Liam's hands are on her arms. The same hands that, just minutes ago, were on me.

Something inside me cracks.

"Fuck you, Liam!" Mary snarls, shoving me back out of the bathroom before I can say anything.

Liam looks up, his lips parting like he wants to explain, but I can't hear him. I don't want to hear him. I was so stupid to think he'd stopped seeing other girls. He didn't change-he just got better at hiding it.

I feel sick.

Mary storms through the hallway, cursing under her breath. I grab her hand, forcing her to stop. Plastering on my brightest, fakest smile, I say, "Told you he's still dating, Mary. He's good to me, but he doesn't feel the same way I do. Now, let's go eat-I'm starving."

She doesn't buy it. Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, she squeezes me against her like she knows I'm breaking inside.

By the time we reach the cafeteria, Mary's already scheming. "You know what? Logan has this hot friend, Tyler. He asked if you were single. Let's do a double date Friday night."

I shake my head instantly. "Mary, no."

"Yes." She grins. "You need to meet other guys. It's just coffee, not a wedding. And if he tries anything, Logan will kill him."

Before I can argue, she's already dragging me toward Logan and Tyler, who are waiting by the coffee machine.

Tyler smiles at me. I recognize him from a barbecue a few weeks ago-blond hair, deep blue eyes, built like an athlete. He looks like a nice guy.

"We were thinking of grabbing coffee on Friday," Mary says, still grinning. "What do you think?"

Please say no, I silently beg him. Please have plans. Please don't be interested in me.

But he just smiles. "Sounds great."

I want to scream.

"Perfect!" Mary says, dragging me away before I can protest. "It's going to be fun, Twinkle. And you need this. Trust me."

Maybe she's right. Maybe it's time to move on.

Because one thing is certain-I can't keep loving a boy who will never love me back.