Anna's POV
Saturday comes the way things you're dreading always come, too fast and too bright.
Liam picks me up at noon and he's made an effort, I can tell. Clean shirt, hair he's clearly tried to do something with, a nervous energy coming off him that's honestly sweet. He's got the whole day planned. The pier first, the good one with the arcade and the food stalls, then the headland walk if the weather holds, then dinner somewhere that isn't a chip van, which for two broke swim-team kids counts as fancy.
"You look nice," he says, and goes red saying it, and I feel like the worst person alive.
Because I do look nice. I put effort in too, and the whole time I was getting ready I was lying to myself about why, telling myself it was for Liam, for the date, for the normal sweet day I keep
