The Gatekeepers

“You were saying?”

While I suspect Liam’s always been popular, his leading the soccer team to win the Division I state title brought his local celebrity to a whole new level. He’d been hurting badly and benched himself partway through the game and that’s when the other team came from behind. In the final two minutes, he insisted on finishing out the game. He scored the winning goal with less than a second left on the clock, causing the crowd to lose their collective minds. Too bad he’s not interested in playing in college because he could go anywhere after that.

Although Princeton doesn’t give athletic scholarships, his prowess on the pitch would give him a distinct advantage in admissions. Still, lots of other schools do grant scholarships. Last year, Duke University brought him down for a weekend and treated him like a rock star, as did Wake Forest and Georgetown. University of Florida told him he could write his own ticket and he has a guaranteed full ride waiting.

Unfortunately, Liam’s dad has his sights set on Princeton for him, period, which is going to be an issue.

“I am done living by my father’s dictates,” he told me after he picked me up from my ACTs the day after Homecoming. The test took only three hours, but my parents assumed I’d be tied up all day. That’s why I had no problem taking off with him for the afternoon in my premiere act of defiance. I felt guilty but ten seconds in his presence and I was game for anything. Drive to Mexico? Rob a convenience store? I was in.

“What does that mean, exactly?” I asked. “What does being ‘done’ look like?” I kept taking little glances to my left to admire his profile as he drove us down to the lakefront. He’d packed a couple of blankets so we could wrap up and he’d bought two huge mochas. So thoughtful!

“Means I’m not going to Princeton. Period. That’s my early decision.”

While I admired his conviction, I wondered if he’d still feel that way once admitted. Why reject that kind of opportunity? “What happens when you’re accepted? How do you walk away from the Ivy League?”

The longer I’m in North Shore, the more I understand the draw of a “good school.” I mean, what if making jewelry isn’t my path? I don’t want to limit my options so I’ve stepped up my studies. Now I devote four to five hours a night to homework. I don’t love all the work and there’s a million things I’d enjoy more, but I’d be remiss to squander the prospect.

He gave me a sly look as he navigated down the steep, winding drive that divided the heavily wooded bluffs. The trees on either side were so dense that they blocked out the sky. Felt like we were traveling through a tunnel.

He pulled into the empty parking area, a small expanse of blacktop that overlooked a rocky shoreline. The water was gray and tipped with whitecaps, beating against the sand. Had he told me we were looking at the Channel coast in England and not this lake, I’d have believed him.

He said, “I figure the one sure way to not be admitted is to not apply. Life’s too short to do what you hate.”

“Do your folks believe you’re still applying?” I asked.

“Yes. My dad keeps asking how the process is going and I tell him it’s going exactly as planned, which technically isn’t a lie.”

He put the car into Park and turned off the ignition.

I had to laugh. “Is it just me, or is this lying business sort of hot?”

He pulled me to him. “So hot.”

Of course, now every day, his father is all, “Did you hear anything yet?” and Liam must say he hasn’t. At some point he’ll be found out and he anticipates a shitstorm. He told me his dad used to knock him around when he was younger, but that tapered off once Liam grew taller than him. While his dad’s still a tyrant, the physical abuse has been at bay, thanks to all of Liam’s achievements.

For now, he’s happily living in denial so we don’t discuss it much.

We arrive at his Jeep and he opens my door for me, like the well-raised gentleman he is. For everything everyone says about Brits being polite, I can’t recall a single boy showing me such respect back in London. Liam’s car has very tall wheels, and no spoilers for a foothold, so he always gives me a boost to get inside. Don’t need help, but I take it anyway.

See, Cordy? I’m developing some game.

“Where to?” he asks as he settles into the driver’s seat. “You hungry? You want some pizza or a burrito?”

The first few times we went out, Liam was amazed I’d consume actual calories on our dates. He was shocked when I asked for my own box of Milk Duds at the movies. I didn’t understand his reaction, so I offered to pay for them myself, which made him laugh. I suspect Mallory wasn’t the easiest girl to date. He’s never complained about her after that first night, but sometimes his reactions speak volumes.

“Hmm,” I say, acting like I’m thinking hard. “I’m...in the mood for something sweet.”

“Frozen yogurt? Dreamsicle cupcakes at Deerfield Bakery?”

I’ve been musing about the two of us a lot—so much, really, Liam is kind of all-consuming in my thoughts—and I’ve decided it’s time for us to take our relationship to the next level.

Yes. I mean that.

“You ready to shag him, eh?” Cordy asked, via our Skype session last night. I was prepping for bed and she was getting up for an early class.

Ha! Kidding!

She was actually rolling home from her night, having just completed the Walk of Shame, hair a mess, dress askew, bra in her backpack, and eyeliner smeared for days.

“Yes? Maybe? I think so?” I replied.

“So long as you’re sure.” In a more serious tone, she said, “Listen up, Moni, you can only lose it once. ’Course, you can tell guys every time it’s your first and they’ll believe you because they’re stupid and horny and na?ve and that’s what they want to hear. By my counts I’ve lost my maidenhood six times this term. Still, it’s official just the once, so make it count with someone who’s kind and amenable. You love him?”

“We’ve only been together a couple of weeks. Can’t say that I’m ‘in love.’ But I could be easily and soon, though. I mean, I’m consumed with thoughts of him. Like, obsessed.”

Whether it’s first thing in the morning when he picks me up at the corner or when I randomly spy him in the halls, I feel like my heart’s going to burst wide open, spraying showers of confetti everywhere like on the X Factor finale. He makes my pulse quicken whenever I think about him.

I took a breath and continued. “One touch ignites a fire inside me that feels like it could heat the whole world for all of eternity. To me, Liam’s, like, a sip from a cool spring of water after a lifetime of thirst. Or like taking a leap off a blind cliff and soaring and then landing in a huge pile of marshmallow fluff. Is that love? I can’t say, but it’s certainly something.”

“Meh, sounds close enough. You should go for it.”

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