Chapter 2 The Blue Hoodie

Chapter Two: The Blue Hoodie

The rain was still hammering against the roof of the Miller’s house, but inside, the air felt different. I was still wearing Liam’s navy blue university hoodie, and the weight of it felt like a secret I wasn't supposed to keep. The fabric was soft against my skin, smelling faintly of the same sandalwood cologne I’d smelled this morning.

"Maya? You still in there?" Chloe yelled from the living room.

I shook myself out of the trance. I had been standing in the hallway for a solid minute, staring at nothing while Liam disappeared into his office. "Coming!" I called back, my voice sounding a little too high-pitched.

I walked into the living room and slumped onto the oversized leather sofa. Chloe had already claimed the coffee table, her history textbook open to a page about the Industrial Revolution, but she wasn't looking at it. She was looking at me with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"So," she said, popping a grape into her mouth. "What did Liam say to you in the car? You look like you just saw a ghost. Or a very attractive celebrity."

I felt my heart skip. "Nothing. He just... helped me with the seatbelt. It was stuck."

"Typical Liam," Chloe sighed, rolling her eyes. "He’s such a 'fixer.' I swear, he treats everyone like they’re a client or a broken appliance. It’s a bit much, isn't it? The whole protective big brother act?"

I forced a smile, my fingers twisting the long sleeves of the hoodie. "Yeah. A bit much."

"Anyway," Chloe continued, mercifully moving on. "Noah texted me. He’s definitely going to ask you to the Formal tomorrow. He wanted to know if you liked lilies or roses. I told him you like those weird tiny wildflowers, but he’ll probably stick to roses because he’s traditional like that."

I looked down at the textbook, the words blurring together. Noah. The Spring Formal. The "right" path.

"I don't know if I want to go, Chloe."

Chloe dropped her grape. "Excuse me? It’s the last big dance of the semester. Everyone is going. Even my boring brother is going to be there to help chaperone the 'After-Party' at the community center because he's trying to build up his 'community service' hours for the firm."

My head snapped up. "Liam is going to be there?"

"Unfortunately. But ignore him. We’ll be too busy dancing to notice the fun-police in the corner."

The Kitchen Encounter

Later that evening, after Chloe had finally fallen asleep on the sofa mid-sentence, I crept toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. The house was quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of the rain.

I thought I was alone until I saw the light spilling out from the kitchen doorway.

Liam was there. He had traded his suit jacket for a plain white T-shirt that looked way too good on him. He was leaning against the counter, staring at a laptop screen with a tired expression. When he heard my footsteps, he looked up, and his face instantly softened.

"Still awake, Maya?"

"Thirsty," I said, pointing toward the glasses.

He reached into the cabinet—because he was six-foot-something and I was... not—and handed me a glass. As I took it, our fingers brushed again. This time, I didn't pull away immediately. I couldn't.

"You’re still wearing it," he noted, nodding toward the hoodie.

"Oh. Yeah. I’ll give it back tomorrow. I just... it’s comfortable."

Liam walked around the counter, closing the distance between us. The kitchen felt smaller than it had this morning. "Keep it," he said softly. "It looks better on you than it does on me anyway."

I took a sip of water, trying to steady my hands. "Chloe says you’re chaperoning the formal."

Liam sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. My dad volunteered me. He thinks I spend too much time in the office and not enough time 'engaging with the youth.' Personally, I’d rather be reading case files than watching a bunch of teenagers awkward-dance to pop music."

"I might not go," I blurted out.

Liam arched an eyebrow. "Why not? I thought you and Chloe had been planning your outfits for months."

"It just feels... childish, I guess. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tired of the same old things."

Liam stepped closer, his presence commanding the room. He smelled like mint and rain. "Is this about that guy? Noah?"

I looked up at him, surprised. "How do you know about Noah?"

"I have eyes, Maya. I see him hovering around you every time I pick you guys up. He looks like a nice kid. Reliable. Safe."

The way he said "safe" made it sound like a bad thing. Like a boring thing.

"He is safe," I whispered. "That's the problem."

Liam’s gaze intensified. He reached out, his hand hovering near my shoulder before he let it drop. "Safety is underrated. The alternative is usually a mess."

"Maybe I don't mind a mess," I said, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

For a moment, the silence was heavy. I saw his jaw clench, his eyes scanning my face as if he were looking for an answer to a question neither of us had asked. He looked like he wanted to say something—something big—but then he shook his head and stepped back.

"Go to bed, Maya. You have a big day of being 'safe' tomorrow."