Always

Chapter Nine

Liam

By lunchtime, the rumors have mutated.

Apparently, Mia and I have been secretly dating for months. Apparently, I “finally settled.” Apparently, there’s a bet involved—which is laughable, but still makes my jaw tighten.

High school thrives on fiction.

I shut my locker harder than necessary.

“You good?” Mia asks, adjusting the strap of her bag.

“Yeah,” I lie automatically.

She narrows her eyes. She’s always been able to read me too easily. “What did you hear?”

“Nothing important.”

Which is partly true. None of it matters.

Except it does.

Because I can handle people talking about me. I’ve been handling that for years. But dragging her into it? Twisting her name into gossip because she decided to stand next to me?

That I don’t like.

We head toward the cafeteria together, the noise already spilling into the hallway. I can feel eyes tracking us again. A couple of guys from the soccer team go quiet when we pass.

Then I hear it.

“Give it two weeks.”

I stop walking.

Mia almost bumps into me. “Liam—”

I turn slowly toward the table where the comment came from. Tyler sits there, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t just say something stupid.

“Two weeks for what?” I ask calmly.

He smirks. “For you to get bored.”

The old version of me would’ve laughed. Maybe fired back something worse. Maybe even proved him right just to protect my image.

But that’s not who I am right now.

I step closer to the table. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.”

His smirk falters slightly. “Relax, man. Just saying what everyone’s thinking.”

“Then everyone’s wrong.”

The cafeteria has gone noticeably quieter.

Mia gently touches my arm. Not to stop me—but to ground me.

I glance at her, and the anger cools almost instantly. This isn’t about ego. It’s about respect.

I look back at Tyler. “You’ve got something to say about me? Fine. But keep her out of it.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever.”

I hold his gaze a second longer before turning away.

We grab a table near the windows. Mia studies me carefully once we sit down.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says softly.

“Yeah,” I reply, echoing her words from the beach. “I did.”

Her lips curve slightly.

The rest of lunch is quieter. Normal, even. We talk about her classes, about my schedule, about nothing and everything at once.

But under the surface, something solidifies.

This isn’t about proving people wrong.

It’s about proving her right.

When the bell rings, I walk her to her next class. Before she goes in, I lean down close enough that only she can hear me.

“Two weeks?” I murmur.

She arches a brow.

“I’m thinking forever sounds better.”

And the smile she gives me?

Yeah.

Definitely worth it.