Page 26 of The Design of Goodbye
“Sure you don’t,” I scoffed. “But why?”
“Why what?”
He sounded tired, like he didn’t have the energy to have this discussion. Until now, I hadn’t noticed the dark bags under his eyes and how he was slouched over slightly, like he wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for years.
“Why did you forgive me so easily? You should be angry at me,” I told him.
“Anger gets you nowhere.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do.” He set the coffee and bag on an empty shelf before adding, “Thanks for the food, coffee, and rather strange apology, but I should get back to work.”
“I need to explain myself first,” I said, the words tumbling out. “I didn’t plan to ditch you last Saturday, but Tanner cheated on Jules, and she was amess. She needed me, and I didn’t have a way to contact you, and...”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Like I said, I forgive you.”
“Okay, well, thanks.” He watched me as I twisted my braid between my fingers and summoned up the courage to ask, “Does that mean we’re still on for tutoring tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there,” he said after a slight pause. “And probably before you show up.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“If you want it to be.” He grabbed a can of clam chowder off the cart and placed it on one of the higher shelves. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he added when I didn’t move.
I pointed to the soup he’d just stocked. “That’s disgusting.”
“Agreed.” He placed his hand on another can of soup. “Did you need something else?”
“I was wondering...how you’re doing?”
Soup forgotten, his arms fell slack at his sides. “You want to know how I’m doing?”
“Yeah? I—”
“How do you think I’m doing?”
“Probably not very good.”
Bruce and Spencer had made the past week a living hell for Liam. On top of the normal slamming of lockers, they’d bothered Liam so much during lunchtime he’d stopped showing up to the cafeteria after Tuesday. On Thursday, they’d wrapped Liam’s bike in duct tape. I’d watched from my car after school as Liam spent over thirty minutes peeling and scraping it off. And today, Bruce had drawn crude pictures and written insulting names on Liam’s locker.
That’d been the last straw. While everyone was in class, I’d escaped mine and used an entire bottle of my favorite hand sanitizer to scrub off the permanent marker. I hoped I’d erased those mean messages before Liam had seen them.
“I could be better,” he replied.
My heart sank at his honesty. “Try your coffee,” I suggested. “Coffee always makes me feel better. And then tell me what you think.”
I loved watching someone try a Buzz coffee—especially pumpkin spice—when it was their first time. It didn’t happen often, so I couldn’t miss this.
He took his coffee off the shelf and blew on the opening of the lid. After he took a sip, he asked, “Pumpkin spice?”
I nodded. “And?”
“Well...”
“What?”
He lifted the cup to his lips and took a painstakingly slow sip.
