queeze her hand. "Our friendship. I ha
King isn't wh
in
ask, the la
ice," Kelly
quick hug. "S
. Angel m
es
my workout clothes, alone as always, so no
e's been following me for a year, though I'd never looked at his profile before. He has thousands of followers
k-and-white pictures: a shadowy outline of himself, a soccer ball
oo
rg
player, no
ic
ite queen. The caption just says, "Sick." His followers all w
calls out. I put my phone aw
r the soccer field, where Liam's team p
s in the blue jersey, moving with his usual focus. I ha
Maxwell tackles him hard, knocking him down. The crowd gasps. I do
iam. Then I realize Liam's looking at me. Hi
k is different. It's raw and angry.
ng water breaks, but every time I glance at the
ce, Coach ca
s. "You slowed down today. Have
better," I sa
eart conditio
aware of it, so she alwa
t on the team. Runn
just the change i
. We spend twenty minutes talking about different strateg
om, I let out a relieved breath, take o
r run over me, pretending it'
a towel around my
rby. I assume it's
e corner-a
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