Authors: Danika Stone
All the Feels (18 page)
“I’m studying, Mom! There’s no reason I can’t vid, too.” Liv forced her voice to be steady. “You can’t stop me.”
“How could anything good come of this?! If you get wrapped up in fandom again now, your grades will suffer.”
“Fandom is
good
for me, Mom!” Liv said, voice rising. “And just because you don’t understand it, doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
Her mother scowled at the action figures standing at attention atop the dresser, the posters lining the walls. Her father had hung the first one. Liv knew they seemed juvenile to her mother, but she couldn’t bear to change them. To do that would mean the end of an era, another loss.
“Liv, this obsession of yours … It’s just not normal.”
“You’re wrong.”
Her mother turned back around. She no longer looked patient. Steeliness filled her gaze. “I want you to stop,” she said firmly. “You need to move on!”
“No!”
“But, Liv—”
“It’s my life!” Liv shouted. “Not yours. And I wish you’d remember that.”
Her mother gasped, her mouth opening and closing again. “I—I’ve never tried to control your life. I want you to do what you want. I want you to be happy.”
Liv stood from the bed, pushing past her mother and heading for the door.
“Then let me live it for once!”
* * *
Liv’s newly washed hair was half-dried by the time she reached downtown Boulder. Sunshine warmed her face as she stepped off the bus. She breathed in the scent of the mountain city: pine needles and car exhaust and hot asphalt and fast food, but on top of all this, the odor of summer waiting just around the corner. In the last few days, spring had exploded to life. Bright splashes of green unfurled on dark branches. Where there had once been tentative buds of flowers, upended paintbrushes filled window boxes and buckets with a riot of color.
Reaching Cup O’ Joe, Liv peered down the street. The orange Mazda was nowhere to be seen. She pushed open the door and squinted into the dim interior. The café was quiet, not a surprise for midweek. A few patrons hid in darkened corners, nursing mugs of coffee and perusing newspapers; others hid behind books. Jazz filtered through the speakers. On the far side of the shop, a solitary writer sat in the corner, pecking at her laptop. She looked up as the bell on the door chimed.
Liv scanned the counter, but Xander wasn’t standing behind it. No one was. Frowning, she made her way to the cash register, catching sight of Xander’s down-turned head. The black waves of his hair were tangled across his forehead, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he fiddled with the steam valve of the machine. He stood up as Liv’s footsteps neared.
“How can I help—” Xander’s words ended midsentence. He smiled, but it didn’t make it all the way to his eyes. “Liv,” he said tiredly.
“Hey, Xander. What’re you up to?” She grinned. “I mean, other than school and work.”
For some reason, he didn’t join in her laughter. He didn’t smile.
“Nothing else,” he said. “Just that.”
“You have a minute to talk?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, no. I’m a little busy,” he said. “We’re shorthanded today.”
Liv glanced at the nearly empty interior and then back. Something felt off, but she didn’t know what. She took a step back from the counter.
“All right then, I’ll just—I’ll go.” She started toward the door. “Sorry for bothering you, Xander.”
“Stay.”
Liv peeked back at him, her long hair giving her the half second when Xander couldn’t see her, but she could see him. It was enough time to read his face. He looked frustrated. More than that, he looked
sad
. But by the time Liv turned the rest of the way and pushed her hair behind her ear, the mask had come back down: Had she imagined it?
“Are you sure you want me to stay?”
“Yes, of course.” He ran his hand over his face. “So how about you, dearest?”
“Mom and I had a fight.”
“Oh?”
“She was snooping around online and…” Liv’s words faded as she caught sight of the pale shadows under Xander’s eyes, the wan smile. Her chest tightened. “Xander, what’s going on with you?”
The fake half smile slid from his face. “Arden and I broke up.”
Liv’s breath caught. “Oh my God.”
“She said she didn’t think it was working anymore.”
“But … but why?”
He shook his head. “There were a lot of reasons, but in the end, Arden said she didn’t think we fit anymore.” He gave a bitter laugh. “And now I’m stuck with an extra ticket to Dragon Con, and I’ve got to find someone to take her place in the room, and…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Goddamnit! This wasn’t supposed to happen this way!” His voice seethed with British inflection.
“I’m really sorry.” Liv stepped closer to the counter. She wanted to touch his hand, but some part of her knew this wasn’t the right thing. Not now. Not after this.
“Are you?”
“Yes, I am. You two were good together. And you seemed … happy.”
He wiped his fingers on the dish towel he held. “Some of the time,” he grumbled. “But not always. And when she said it was time to move on, I … I didn’t try to stop her, Liv. I knew it wasn’t working out.”
“I’m still sorry.”
His brows drew together. “Why?”
“Because you’re hurting, and I hate to see that. But you’ll be okay, Xander. You will.”
He gave her a weak smile. “Thanks, dearest. That means more than you know.” He looked around the café. “Give me a minute, and I’ll come sit down. I was supposed to take a break an hour ago, but Marcy called in sick last second.” He pursed his lips. “No backup.” He nodded to the line of stools. “If you sit at the counter, I can hang out with you for a while.”
“That’d be nice.”
He turned to grab two mugs from the shelf.
“I’ve been missing our Mickey Dee’s tradition. With all the coffee dates, we kind of put those on hold.”
His back was to her, so she couldn’t see his face, but Xander stopped, his hands tightening on the mugs. After a long moment, he turned back around.
“I’ve missed them, too.”
And this time when he smiled, it went all the way to his eyes.
* * *
* * *
The night was warm and the parking lot was filled with teens. Some sat on the hoods of cars, others lounged on the concrete-cast tables and chairs by the doors. Liv and Xander sat in his car, though their windows were rolled down to catch the breeze. Xander had his seat half-reclined. His stockinged legs stuck out the window, the silver buckles on his shoes sparkling under the streetlamp. He took another sip of iced tea, the straw rasping as it hit the bottom.
“You ready for your fortune?” Liv asked as she reached for her purse.
Xander shook his cup, rattling the ice. “You don’t really believe in that stuff, do you, Liv?”
She shrugged and unwrapped the first cookie. “I do and I don’t. I believe in science for the most part, but sometimes…” She broke the cookie with her thumb. “I think there’s more.” She pulled the paper from the broken shell. “I think life gives us little hints.”
“Well, let’s hear it then.”
A shiver rose up Liv’s spine as she read: “You will go on an unexpected journey.”
“Pfft! That’s hardly a real fortune,” Xander said, waving away the words. “That could mean anything. Try another.”
Liv pulled the second from her bag and opened it. “How about this?” She scanned it, and her lashes flared wide. Tonight
everything
seemed to be talking to her. “Follow the untrodden path,” she read. “It leads to greatness.”
“Good lord,” Xander groaned. “That’s even worse than the first one. If this is supposed to convince me of divine intervention, it’s not working.” He reached out, waggling his fingers. “Here. Give me one this time. Maybe I’ll have better luck with the universe’s Magic 8 Ball.”
She put the third one in his hand.
“You create your stage and your audience is waiting,” Xander read in a sarcastic tone. “Good lord, if that’s supposed to be a message about Arden, I don’t appreciate the universe’s sense of humor!”
He rolled the paper into a ball with his thumb and forefinger and flicked it at Liv. The fortune bounced off her forehead and landed in her hair.
“Really, Liv,” Xander said. “These are absolutely useless. They’re worn-out clichés everyone uses over and over again. Five dollars says the next one’s something along the lines of: All journeys begin with a single step.”
“You’re being a cynic.”
“I
deserve
to be a cynic. I just got dumped.” He shook his head. “Fortune cookies are not the secret to destiny.”
Liv shrugged. “I dunno. I think there’s something to them.”
“Something like what? A bored fortune cookie writer?” Xander rolled his eyes. “I don’t think he was even trying. I could come up with a better one than that.”
Liv pulled the paper ball out of the strands of hair and smoothed it into a strip before dropping it into her purse.
“Here,” Liv said. “There’s one more.”
She unwrapped it, slid her thumb into the groove of the cookie, then stopped. “You do this one,” she said, offering it to Xander.
“How about together?”
He put his hand on hers, and Liv closed her eyes, wishing for an answer. For something that made
sense
in a world, which didn’t. Xander’s fingers were warm around hers. The tingle began. He hadn’t moved, and neither had she.
“What are you waiting for?” Xander whispered.
She opened her eyes to find him watching her. His lips were parted, a line of concentration between his brows. He was closer than he needed to be, and he looked concerned (or, she thought, like he was about to kiss her). Liv closed her eyes again.
“Nothing. Just concentrating.” She took a shaky breath. “Now.”
Their twined fingers pressed down, and the cookie crumbled. The paper dropped to the floor, where it disappeared under the seat. For a heartbeat, Xander didn’t release her fingers.
“What does it say?” she asked.
Xander let go of her hand and leaned over to fish the paper out.
“Fortune favors the bold,” he read. “Cliché hat trick. You owe me five dollars.”
“That is
not
what you said.”
“Fine.” His gaze dropped to the paper. “At least it’s a sentiment I can actually believe in.” He looked over at Liv, smirking. “So tell me, dearest, is this the cookie you were looking for?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“I know what it means!” Liv laughed.
She glanced out the window at the bright moon and the people in T-shirts and jeans lounging in the lot. It had been winter when Liv told Xander her plan to bring Spartan back from the dead. Five months later, she felt the same trepidation to admit what she’d known since the fight with her mother. That she had to take a stand. She had to do this.
“This fortune cookie means something to you,” Xander repeated. “Are you absolutely serious?”
“Yes.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Is this a joke? Because I’ve missed the punch line.”
She shook her head. “Not at all. I know that fortune’s the one.”
“And you know that
how
, exactly?”
“Because I’ve already made my choice.”
Xander frowned. “I don’t—”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Coming where?”
“To Atlanta,” Liv said, grinning. “I’m taking Arden’s ticket and coming to Dragon Con.”
(
MYTHBUSTERS
)
June’s arrival brought with it a sense of new opportunities. As impossible as it had felt when Liv had walked through the wide doors of the University of Colorado months earlier, she had survived her freshman year. Now the preparations for the trip to Atlanta, Georgia, where Dragon Con was being held, became her highest priority.
“I need a job,” she told Xander. “A good one.”
“One job won’t cut it,” he scoffed. “If you want spending money, you should have been saving all year.”