Evelyn’s Corridor of Time

Chapter 5: Liam’s Gentle Trap

The air on the school’s rooftop was crisp, tinged with the faint scent of pine from the trees lining the courtyard below. It was after hours, the sky a deep indigo speckled with stars that winked like they were in on some cosmic secret. I stood near the edge, my sneakers scuffing the gritty concrete, my white blouse still a disaster—gaping at the collar, sweat-stained, the missing button a permanent badge of my earlier humiliation. My pencil skirt hugged my hips, the hem riding up slightly as the wind tugged at it, and my hair spilled loose over my shoulders, wild and tangled from the day’s chaos. I’d come up here to breathe, to escape the suffocating weight of Maya’s betrayal and the digital storm still raging online. But when Liam texted me—“Meet me on the roof. I’ve got something for you”—my heart did a stupid little flip, and I couldn’t say no.

He showed up minutes later, a shadow against the stairwell door, and my breath caught. Liam Hayes was a walking fantasy—six feet of lean muscle wrapped in a tight black T-shirt that clung to his chest, showing off every line of his biceps as he moved. His dark jeans hugged his thighs, the kind of fit that made you wonder what else they were hiding, and his messy brown hair fell just over his eyes, giving him that effortless, dangerous vibe I’d been crushing on since freshman year. He carried a blanket under one arm and a sly grin that made my knees wobble. I hated how much I wanted him to notice me, even after everything.

“Hey, Ev,” he said, his voice low and smooth, like honey over gravel. He stepped closer, the woodsy scent of his cologne hitting me—cedar and something warm, like a fire I wanted to curl up next to. “Thought you could use a break from… all that.”

I swallowed, my throat dry, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly hyper-aware of how wrecked I looked. “Yeah, uh, it’s been a day,” I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest to hide the gap in my blouse. My skin prickled under his gaze, and I shifted, the skirt pulling tighter against my legs.

He spread the blanket out near the ledge, the fabric rustling softly, and gestured for me to sit. “Come on. Stars are killer tonight.” His grin widened, all teeth and charm, and my stomach fluttered. I hesitated, then sank down beside him, my knees brushing his as I tucked my legs under me. The concrete was cold through the blanket, but his warmth radiated, close enough that I could feel it without touching. My heart raced, a giddy buzz spreading through me, and for a moment, I let myself forget—Maya, the video, the pin. Just me and Liam, alone under the sky.

He leaned back on his elbows, his shirt stretching across his chest, and tilted his head to look at me. “You’re tougher than they give you credit for, you know that? That speech thing—screw them. They don’t get you.”

My cheeks burned, and I ducked my head, a shy smile tugging at my lips. “Thanks. I… I don’t feel tough. More like a mess.” I tugged at my blouse again, the fabric slipping, and his eyes flicked down for a split second—long enough to make my pulse jump—before meeting mine again.

“Nah,” he said, scooting closer. His knee pressed against mine now, firm and deliberate, and a shiver raced up my spine. “You’re real. That’s what I like about you.” His hand brushed my arm, his fingers trailing lightly over my skin, leaving a trail of heat that made my breath hitch. I froze, caught between wanting to pull away and wanting to lean in, my body buzzing with a mix of nerves and something hotter, something I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time.

“Liam…” I started, my voice shaky, but he didn’t let me finish. He shifted, his hand sliding to my wrist, his thumb grazing the inside where my pulse hammered. He was so close now, his breath warm against my cheek, and when he spoke, his voice was a whisper that sent goosebumps racing down my neck.

“You’re special, Ev. Different. I’ve always seen it.” His fingers slid higher, brushing the edge of my sleeve, and my blouse shifted, the gap widening to show the curve of my collarbone, the hint of my bra strap. I should’ve fixed it, should’ve cared, but his eyes locked on mine, dark and intense, and all I could think was how much I wanted him to keep looking.

He leaned in, slow, giving me time to pull back, but I didn’t. His lips brushed mine—soft at first, tentative, then firmer, a hungry edge that made my head spin. My hands found his chest, the fabric of his shirt taut under my fingers, and I pressed closer, tasting the faint mint on his breath, feeling the heat of him seep into me. His hand slid to my waist, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp against his mouth, and the world narrowed to this—the stars, the rooftop, the way his touch lit me up like a live wire.

I melted into him, my skirt riding up as I shifted, my thighs brushing his, the friction sending a jolt through me that made my toes curl. His other hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing my jaw, and I let myself fall, let the giddy rush drown out the chaos of the day. This was what I’d dreamed of—Liam Hayes, wanting me, choosing me. My crush wasn’t just a fantasy anymore; it was real, and it felt so good I could’ve cried.

He pulled back, just enough to look at me, his breath ragged, his eyes hooded. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, his hand sliding down my arm again, lingering at my wrist. “I mean it.”

I smiled, dizzy, my lips tingling, and leaned my head against his shoulder, the blanket soft beneath us. The stars blurred above, and for the first time in days, I felt light, like maybe I could be okay. Maybe Liam was my anchor, the one thing I could hold onto while everything else fell apart.

But then the pin in my pocket hummed—a sharp, insistent buzz that cut through the haze. My head throbbed, a dull ache flaring behind my eyes, and I winced, pulling back slightly. “Sorry, just… headache,” I muttered, rubbing my temple.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice all concern, but his hand stayed on my wrist, warm and steady. Too steady. My eyes dropped to it, and that’s when I saw it—the faint red light blinking under his sleeve, barely visible but unmistakable. A recorder. Tiny, sleek, taped to his forearm.

My stomach dropped, the warmth draining out of me like someone had yanked a plug. “Liam… what’s that?” My voice trembled, barely a whisper, as I pointed at his arm.

His face changed—froze, then shifted into something harder, colder. He yanked his hand back, tugging his sleeve down, but it was too late. “It’s nothing, Ev. Just—”

“Don’t lie to me!” I scrambled to my feet, my skirt catching on the blanket, tearing slightly at the hem. The pin’s hum grew louder, a warning scream in my pocket, and I clutched it, my head pounding harder. “You’re recording this? Why?”

He stood too, slower, his hands up like he was calming a wild animal. “Look, it’s not what you think. I just… I wanted to—”

“Wanted to what?” I shouted, my voice cracking the quiet night. Tears stung my eyes, hot and fast, and I stumbled back, the rooftop suddenly too small, too suffocating. “Make a fool of me again? Was this all a setup?”

“No, Ev, I swear—” He stepped toward me, but I didn’t let him finish. The pin burned against my palm, and I let it take me, the world blurring as time rewound. Five minutes back. Ten. I pushed harder, desperate, until I was standing by the ledge again, alone, the blanket still folded in his arms as he walked out of the stairwell.

“Hey, Ev,” he said, same grin, same line, but this time I didn’t smile back. I watched him spread the blanket, watched his every move, and when he sat, I didn’t join him. I stayed standing, my arms crossed, my chest heaving.

“Why’d you really ask me up here, Liam?” I asked, my voice flat, cold.

He blinked, caught off guard, then laughed—a nervous, jagged sound. “To hang out. See the stars. What’s with the third degree?”

I stepped closer, my sneakers crunching on the concrete, and grabbed his wrist, yanking his sleeve up before he could stop me. The recorder glinted under the starlight, red light blinking like a traitor’s heartbeat. His eyes widened, and he jerked back, but I held on, my nails digging into his skin.

“You’re with her, aren’t you?” I said, my voice breaking. “Maya. This was her idea. Record me, get my secrets, what—post it online? Another video to bury me?”

“Ev, no, it’s not—” He tried to pull free, but I shoved him, hard, and he stumbled, the blanket tangling around his legs.

“Don’t!” I screamed, tears streaming now, my blouse fluttering open as I shook. “I trusted you! I thought—” My voice cracked, and I choked on a sob, the memory of his lips on mine turning sour, rotting in my chest. “I thought you liked me.”

He stared at me, his face a mask of guilt and something uglier—contempt, maybe. “You’re so naive, Evelyn,” he said, low and cruel. “You think you’re special because of some freak trick? Maya told me everything. You’re a liability. I just wanted to see how far you’d go.”

The words hit like a punch, knocking the air out of me, and I sank to my knees, the concrete biting through my skirt. My hands shook, the pin slipping from my fingers, clattering to the ground. The headache exploded, a white-hot spike through my skull, and I clutched my head, gasping. Another memory flickered—gone. The taste of strawberry ice cream, my favorite from last summer. Erased.

Liam stepped closer, looming over me, his shadow swallowing the starlight. “You’re falling apart, Ev. Maybe you should’ve stayed invisible.”

I looked up at him, tears blurring his face, and saw the truth—Maya hadn’t just betrayed me. She’d weaponized him, turned my stupid crush into a trap. And I’d walked right into it, blouse open, heart on my sleeve, begging to be broken.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I fumbled for it, my hands trembling so hard I nearly dropped it. A Snapchat story: “Liam and the freak? Dude’s slumming it.” No name, just a blurry shot of us on the roof, my blouse gaping, his hand on my wrist. Another knife in my back.

I staggered to my feet, snatching the pin off the ground, and backed away, my chest heaving. “Stay away from me,” I rasped, my voice raw. “Both of you.”

He didn’t follow as I stumbled to the stairwell, the blanket abandoned, the stars mocking me from above. My head throbbed, my vision swimming, and as I shoved the door open, my phone buzzed again. A text. Unknown number. “He’s not the only one recording. Check his phone.”

I froze, my breath hitching, the stairwell’s cold metal railing biting into my palm. His phone? I glanced back, but Liam was already turning away, his silhouette fading into the dark. I could rewind again, dig deeper, find out what else he was hiding—but the pain in my head screamed no, and the pin’s hum felt like a taunt.

I didn’t go back. Not this time. I stumbled down the stairs, my skirt tearing more, my blouse flapping like a surrender flag. The trap had sprung, and I’d lost more than a memory—I’d lost the last shred of trust I had left. Liam’s gentle words, his touch, his kiss—they were poison, and I’d drunk it all down.

As I hit the bottom step, the school’s empty halls stretching out before me, my phone lit up again. Another text. “They’re planning more. Dance is next.”

The dance. The big spring formal, two weeks away. My stomach twisted, a fresh wave of dread crashing over me. Maya and Liam weren’t done. And whatever they had planned, it was going to be worse—way worse—than a video.

I clutched the pin tighter, my knuckles white, and limped into the night, the rooftop’s warmth a fading lie behind me.