Always

Chapter two

Mia

If Liam knocks on my window one more time, I might actually throw my anatomy textbook at his head.

“I know you’re in there!” he calls, his voice half-laughing, half-demanding.

I press my pen harder against the page, underlining a sentence about the cardiovascular system like my entire future depends on it. Maybe it does. I have goals. Plans. Scholarships don’t earn themselves.

Then the tapping starts again.

Persistent. Annoying. Very Liam.

I sigh and glance out my window. He’s standing on the small ledge outside, hands shoved in his pockets like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Dark T-shirt. Faded jeans. That lazy smirk that’s gotten him out of more trouble than I can count.

“Go away,” I mouth through the glass.

He grins wider.

I slide the window up. “You’re going to fall and break your neck.”

“Dramatic,” he says. “I just came to rescue you.”

“From what? Education?”

“From being eighty years old at seventeen.”

I try not to smile, but it’s impossible with him. It’s always been impossible.

Liam and I have been best friends since we were five. He’s been there through every science fair meltdown, every awkward middle school phase, every late-night panic about whether I’m good enough. He pretends not to care about anything, but he’s the first one to show up when I need him.

And that’s the problem.

Because lately, I’ve noticed things I shouldn’t.

The way his voice drops when he’s serious. The way his eyes linger just a second too long. The way my stomach flips when he stands too close.

It didn’t used to be like this.

“I’m not going to the party,” I tell him, even though my resolve already feels weak. “I have reading to finish.”

He leans against the frame. “You’ve been studying all summer, Mia. One night won’t ruin your future.”

Easy for him to say. He doesn’t feel the pressure I do—the expectations, the constant need to prove that I can make it out of this town on grades alone.

But he’s looking at me like he sees something else. Not just the girl with the textbooks.

“Please,” he adds, softer now. “Come with me.”

There’s something in his voice that makes my heart stutter.

Maybe I do need one night.

Maybe I’m tired of being careful.

I close my textbook slowly.

“One hour,” I say.

His grin could power the entire coastline.

And just like that, I have a feeling tonight is going to change everything.