Page 91 of Riptide

She answers on the fourth ring.

“Hey, Finn, what’s up?”

“Are you home?” I ask quickly.

“Yeah, are you okay? You sound strange.”

“I’m…” I pause, because what am I? Sad? Upset? Confused? All of that and more. “Can I come over?” I ask, pushing the words out before they get stuck in my throat.

“Always. We’re home.”

“See you soon.”

It only takes a few minutes to get to their apartment, but it feels longer, like I’m driving through molasses, stuck in my own head, replaying the look on Foxx’s face when I left. I don’t know if I want to punch something or just lie down and pretend none of this ever happened, because the scenarios plaguing me make me feel criminal.

When I push open the door, the scents of popcorn and candy hit me.

Liv is the first person I see, Daphne’s best friend since forever. She goes to Washington State, but they try to get together often,and I completely forgot she was coming down this week. She’s curled up on the couch in sweatpants and an oversized WSU hoodie, dark hair scraped into a bun as she cradles a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in one hand and scrolls her phone with the other.

She looks up, eyebrows raised. “Jesus. Who kicked your heart into traffic?”

“Hi, Liv,” I mutter. “Nice to see you too.”

Her mouth pulls into a smirk, and she sets her phone down, spoon still dangling loosely from her fingers. “You look like shit,” she says, but it’s gentler now—well, in the way Liv does gentle. “C’mere, loser.”

I cross the room without thinking, and she shifts, lifting the edge of the blanket. When I collapse onto the couch beside her, she immediately drapes the blanket over both of us.

Daphne comes in a second later, eyes scanning my face like she already knows something’s wrong. “Finn…”

“I’m fine,” I lie. Liv hands me the pint of ice cream wordlessly, and I take it, scooping a hefty mouthful.

“I think we’re battling heartbreak warfare over here, Daph. Play that song. We need to hype him up and get him angry instead. I’m already at my angry stage.”

Daphne doesn’t even ask which song. She pulls out her phone, and within seconds, the opening chords of “Good 4 u” start playing over the speakers, although quietly, because I’m guessing Rosie is asleep.

I groan into the spoon. “Oh, come on. We don’t need the song. That’s not—”

“There’s no heartbreak like a Rodrigo-certified heartbreak. Let it wash over you, Finn. Don’t fight it.”

“Wait, are you heartbroken too?”

“I’ve been dating a guy who I’m ninety-five percent sure is married, so I ran away here instead of confronting him. Whatdo you think?” she deadpans, just as Hudson pops out of the bedroom then too, closing the door softly.

“Uh oh, are we at this point already, Liv?” He looks to me. “Hey, man, when did you get here?”

“Right before these two decided I need to be serenaded by Olivia Rodrigo.” Liv tries to soothe me by brushing my hair, but I push her off my head. “I’m not a cat, Liv, don’t pet me.”

She snickers and steals the spoon from my hand, just as the chorus kicks in, singing into it in hushed tones—probably trying not to wake Rosie, though the dramatic hand gestures don’t exactly help. And despite my state of mind, it’s really hard not to laugh at her.

I cover my face, shaking my head, but the grin slips through anyway.

Liv just winks and keeps going, mouthing the lyrics like it’s her personal therapy session. Across the room, Daphne starts humming along too, barely holding back her laughter.

And I give in.

Not all the way, but enough to hum a few words under my breath. Enough to point at Liv on the chorus. One thing about Liv is that she’s always a bottle of fizz on the brink of exploding.

The music stops, and we all deflate back onto the sofa. “So, now you can talk to us,” Daphne says. “What happened?”

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