"I'm always careful," I say instead, which is a lie we both let stand.
Liam finds me at lunch.
He's sweet about it, he's always sweet, that's the whole ache of Liam, and he sits down across from me with that hopeful open face and asks how I've been, and makes a joke, and tries so hard, and I watch him try and feel like the worst person who ever lived. Because he's kind and he's uncomplicated and he likes me plainly and openly the way a person should be liked, and being near him does nothing to me at all, and being near a boy who lies to my face and runs from me lights up my whole chest.
"So I was thinking," Liam says, turning his cup around in his hands, not quite meeting my eyes, "maybe we could do something again. Just us. Not an Elsie setup, a real one. If you wanted."
And there it
