not to worry as he lay in bed recovering from open-heart surgery. But what else was there to say? “I’ll find a way to pay the bills. Rico said I could get work as an assistant.”
“Did he now?” Dad muttered, and then his eyes drifted shut. Our brief conversation had exhausted whatever energy he’d managed to summon, and now he really had fallen asleep.
I watched him for a few minutes, taking comfort each time his chest rose and fell—but I also felt dread sinking into my bones like a deep winter chill. We had hit bottom, and I knew Dad couldn’t save us. It was up to me.
I knew what I had to do, and it scared me to death.
Always keep them guessing, Dad had taught me. It had been my favorite of the four rules. Keep them guessing meant I could always deliver a surprise, delighting people with the unexpected, with the unforeseen. But now I had to gather my strength in pursuit of a different rule of magic. The last and most important rule of all:
The show must go on.
Liam was waiting for me in the lobby and stood up as I approached.
“How is he?”
Liam had dark circles under his eyes and a two-day beard. For the first time, I wondered what he had sacrificed to be here. At the very least, he’d borrowed a car and lost a night of sleep. He’d probably missed classes, too.
“He’s fine,” I said. I meant it to sound reassuring, but it came out flat, almost bored. At Liam’s confused look, I said, “Sorry. I’m just wiped out.”
“I can tell. You’re down, huh?”
I opened my mouth to give a sarcastic response, but I swallowed it instead. He had noticed. And it was no small feat to tell the difference between the shock of witnessing my dad’s heart attack and the onset of a depressive episode.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I am.”
We headed out to the parking lot and got into the Prius, but Liam didn’t start the engine.
“Listen, Ellie, I know there’s a lot going on right now. And you don’t owe me anything—not even the chance to explain. But please let me tell you what happened. Then you can decide whether you want to date me or murder me in my sleep.”
I turned away, stared out the window at the vintage Wendy’s sign across the street. I didn’t want to talk about this right now—I was afraid more disappointment might crush me. But I did owe Liam something. For the truck, and for the rescue.
“Okay.”
“Thank you.” He gripped the steering wheel. “I met Kaylee at orientation. We went on three dates, and then—”
“I don’t want details,” I said. “Just skip to the part about why you lied.”
Liam took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair.
“We went on three dates—that’s it. But she thought it was something more. So I had to make a big deal out of it and ‘break up’ with her. That was two weeks ago, before I came home for Becca’s wedding.”
“Right before you asked me out.”
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t explain why you ghosted me. Or why she picked up your phone when I texted you in the middle of the night.”
Liam stared out the windshield for moment. “Can I explain the second part first?”
“Fine.”
“I was pledging a fraternity—Pi Kappa Alpha, the one my father insisted I join. Anyway, I was at this rush party, and Kay—she was there. I was doing a stupid drinking game, and I left my jacket hanging over a chair. She must have taken my phone, seen your text, and called you. I was pretty drunk. I didn’t realize what happened until I looked at my call history the next morning.”
I couldn’t look at him. “Why do these stories always involve ‘I was drunk’?”
“I’m not proud of it, and I’m not making an excuse.”
“Okay, fine. But why didn’t you answer my calls or texts for two days after our second ‘date’? You know, the one where you basically asked me to be your girlfriend?”
Liam let out a long breath and tilted his head back. I had the feeling I wouldn’t like what he was about to say.
“I just . . . got cold feet.”
“About what, exactly?” I glared at him. If he was about to wreck me, I wasn’t going to make it easy.
“About the bipolar thing.”
I gaped at him. I had never used that word; he must have figured it out on his own.
I closed my eyes and pressed the heels of my