Page 101 of After the Snap

“Is that what you were planning?”

“I hadn’t ruled it out.”

I lean down and kiss her before she can defend that answer, keeping her hand in mine when I straighten. “Text me what you want, Pea.”

Calliope releases my hand and carries her coffee to the living room, dropping onto the couch before reaching for her phone on the coffee table. The screen lights up before she gets there, and whatever she sees has her reaching for it immediately.

“Olivia?” Calliope glances at me as she answers, mouthing my friend from college before turning her attention back to the call. “Hey. No, you’re fine. I’m not doing anything.”

She pauses, curling one leg beneath herself. “I know, and I’m sorry too. I kept telling myself I’d call when things calmed down, which was a terrible plan, considering neither of our lives knows how to do that.”

Whatever Olivia says wipes the lingering smile from her face.

“What happened?”

The longer Calliope listens, the tighter her shoulders draw. When the tension doesn’t ease, I cross into the living room and lower myself onto the couch beside her, resting my hand on her thigh. Her eyes find mine, but instead of giving me the automatic smile I expect, she shifts closer and covers my hand with hers. I turn my palm beneath hers, and her fingers slip between mine while she keeps listening.

“Liv, not knowing what you want to do anymore doesn’t mean you wasted all those years. Did you tell your parents that? What did they say?”

“Okay. Forget them for a second. What do you want?”

Calliope opens her mouth to respond but decides against it, allowing Olivia to finish whatever she needs to say instead of filling the silence for her.

“You don’t have to know today. You can be tired without turning it into a five-year plan, and you can hate where you are without already knowing where you’re going next.”

Her fingers tighten between mine, and I squeeze them as she lets her head fall against my shoulder. “No, I’m not saying quit, just that maybe you need to stop treating being miserable like proof you’re doing something right.”

My thumb slows against Calliope’s hand. I spent too many nights alone at the facility in Houston, running the same film until I could barely keep my eyes open because going home while there was still something wrong felt like giving up. There was always another mistake to find, another hour I could stay, something else I could do that might make tomorrow better. Calliope’s laugh beside me brings my attention back to the couch.

“I missed you too. And for the record, I disappeared into MCAT hell and barely noticed a few months had passed since we chatted, so neither of us gets to claim the moral high ground here.” Calliope listens before her eyes lift to mine. “Yeah, I retook it. I’m waiting for my score now. And before you ask, I’m okay. I really am.”

Her attention returns to Olivia, but a moment later, she straightens beside me.

“Then come here if you need to get out of Georgia for a few days. I’m not telling you to quit your program or move here.” She squeezes my hand as her eyes find mine again. “You don’t have to show up with a plan. Just come and breathe for a minute.”

“Please. My dad has more bedrooms than he knows what to do with, and if you’re worried about him, we’ll lock ourselves in my room and have a sleepover like we’re nineteen again.”

Calliope laughs at whatever Olivia says next, but the sound cuts off when her eyes move around my living room.

“No, I’m not at Dad’s. I’m at my boyfriend’s.”

I almost forget there’s anyone on the other end of the phone. The smile I’ve been fighting since she said boyfriend wins before she looks back at me. She catches me staring and smiles like she knows exactly what she did, so I slide my hand to the back of her neck and pull her close enough to kiss her temple, lingering there until her quiet laugh reminds me Olivia can probably hear us.

“Oh, now you have time to interrogate me? His name is Jubal, and you can save the rest of your questions for the next time you call.” She listens for another moment before her expression softens. “You don’t have to decide about Charlotte right now. Just think about it, okay? And don’t wait another few months to call me. I don’t care if all you have to say is that everything still sucks.”

Calliope goes quiet while Olivia answers, and her fingers squeeze mine once before her shoulders finally loosen against me. “Love you too. We’ll talk soon.”

When she hangs up, I ask, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just hate that I didn’t know she was having such a hard time. I hope she comes.”

She turns her face toward me, and this time the smile reaches her eyes, even if it doesn’t quite hold. I kiss her forehead, and she settles closer as the last of the tension leaves her shoulders.

“Dad would love having her here. He used to pretend he hated when we took over the house during breaks, but then he’d make enough breakfast for an entire offensive line.”

I can picture Coach complaining about the noise while making sure both of them ate, but the image dies when I remember I’m supposed to be sitting across from him in less than half an hour, and he still doesn’t know about us. My hand stills around hers, and Calliope lifts her head when my phone vibrates against the coffee table.

Expecting something from the training staff, I pick it up, but Coach Quinn’s name fills the screen instead. My pulse jumps even though there’s no reason he could know. Calliope sees his name when I don’t answer right away, and her fingers tighten around mine before I finally swipe my thumb across the screen.