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There’s a party going on in the ski lodge’s “activity room”, if a couple dozen teenagers dancing halfheartedly to a playlist assembled by a bored employee and sipping sodas while avoiding eye contact with each other can really be considered a party. Mostly, the whole thing looks hideously awkward to Liam, who’s hovering at the edge of the room with a can of Diet Coke clutched tightly in her hand, wondering how long she has before her parents head to the adult party in the ballroom and she can sneak back up to their suite to ring in the New Year stretching, texting Louis, and watching the Times Square ball drop on TV.
It won’t be the most exciting New Year’s Eve on the planet, but it’ll be about a million times better than spending it with a bunch of people she doesn’t know.
She takes another sip of her Diet Coke, making a face at the smudge of peachy-pink lip gloss she leaves on the edge of the can. When she’d put on a full face of makeup earlier in the night, she hadn’t been thinking about the fact that she’d probably spend most of the evening pretending to be occupied by her drink. She’s just about to make her way over to the snack table, a fairly impressive spread of teenager-friendly food provided by the lodge, when someone catches her eye.
The girl slouched against the wall on the opposite side of the room looks just as bored and uncomfortable as Liam feels, but when she glances up at the sound of an excited shriek from a younger girl on the dance floor when a 5 Seconds of Summer song starts, their eyes meet, and Liam abruptly changes course, rounding the room and coming to a stop next to the girl.
“Hey,” she says, suddenly nervous. She waits a beat, tucking one side of her long, walnut-brown hair behind her ear before continuing. “Are you as bored as I am?”
Luckily, the girl giggles a little, flashing a smile at Liam. “More bored, probably. I’m supposed to be, like, chaperoning my little sisters, but . . .”
“There’s not exactly much chance of this thing turning wild,” Liam supplies, nodding. “I think I partied harder than this in junior high.”
The other girl raises one eyebrow, and Liam finds herself blushing. “Not that I’m a big partier, really. I just meant, like, this barely qualifies as a party. I’m Liam, by the way.”
“Zayn.” The girl extends her hand, slim brown fingers firm in Liam’s grasp. “And no, I get what you meant. This is really fucking lame, honestly.”
“Exactly!” Liam nods enthusiastically. “I feel like a snob or something, but I think I might be the oldest person here by at least two years, so.”
Zayn grins. “I bet I have you beat.”
“Yeah? How old are you?”
She hopes she’s doing this right. It’s been a while since Liam’s had to make a brand-new friend—mostly, she’s been attached to Louis, Niall, and Harry at the hip since elementary school.
“Seventeen,” Zayn says, and before Liam can open her mouth to counter with When’s your birthday? she adds, “but I turn eighteen in January.”
Liam rolls her eyes, but she can’t hold back her grin. “Okay, you’re older than me by, like, six months.”
“Still counts.”
“Whatever,” Liam giggles, taking another sip of her soda. “Do you want to, like, raid the dessert table and then get out of here?”
Zayn raises her eyebrows, and Liam blushes. “Not out of here, out of here, but, you know. Out of the party.”
“I knew what you meant,” Zayn replies, laughing a little. “And I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on my sisters, but it’s not like this thing is about to blow up, is it?”
“I probably shouldn’t encourage you, but . . .” Liam trails off, letting the offer hang in the air. She’s surprised by how much she wants Zayn to say yes, even though they’ve only just met.
“Fuck it,” Zayn decides, reaching for Liam’s hand. Liam jumps a little at the contact, and Zayn glances at her like she’s about to let go, so Liam tightens her grip, taking a step and tugging the other girl toward the snack table. “It’s New Year’s Eve.”
*
“You do it,” Liam whispers, hand hovering close to Zayn’s waist but not quite brave enough to rest there.
“No way!” Zayn hisses, the ends of her hair tickling Liam’s hand. “It was your idea. You do it!”
Liam pauses, thinking. “We could do it together.”
Zayn rolls her eyes. “Two of us sneaking into the kitchen is going to be way more conspicuous than just one.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Liam says, and she should probably feel more embarrassed because school has never been her strong suit and that’s always been a tender spot for her, but instead she just grins cheerily at Zayn.
When Zayn smiles back, Liam feels her heart jump a little. “It means you should do it.”
"Fine,” Liam faux-huffs, straightening her scarf around her neck and tucking her hair behind her ears before remembering that she looks like a rabbit when she does that and hastily undoing it. “If I get caught, I promise not to tell them who my accomplice is.”
“I appreciate it,” Zayn says. “Now go get us that wine.”
*
Twenty minutes later Liam’s sliding the key card in the slot on the door of her family’s suite, careful not to drop the bottle of wine she has hidden underneath her sweater. Zayn is crowded close behind her, near enough that Liam can smell her perfume--something a little floral and a little smoky, the kind of scent she can’t get enough of and would wear herself if she felt like it would suit her.
“Are you sure your parents won’t mind if we hang out in here?” Zayn wonders.
“My parents,” Liam tells her, “are going to be busy at the party until at least two. We’re fine.”
Apparently that’s all the assurance Zayn needs, because she slips past Liam and into the suite, throwing a happy smile back over her shoulder. Her long, dark hair spills down her back, her hips swaying side to side as she walks. Liam follows, closing the door softly behind her.
Zayn looks around, her eyes taking in the cream-colored walls, generic art prints, and snowy white duvet. “It looks exactly like my family’s suite.”
“I mean, we are staying at the same ski lodge,” Liam points out, smirking when Zayn sticks her tongue out in response. “Come on, let’s check out the balcony. I haven’t been on it yet.”
Zayn throws open the balcony doors, allowing a rush of cold air into the room. “I can’t believe you haven’t checked it out yet. This is awesome. We’re on the other side of the lodge, so we don’t get the mountain view.”
“Whoa,” Liam breathes, stepping onto the balcony behind Zayn. The view is gorgeous, all mountains and starry skies. “Do you think we’ll be able to see the lodge’s fireworks from here?”
“I bet we will, yeah,” Zayn replies, leaning against the balcony railing. Liam cautiously settles in next to her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body but not quite close enough for their shoulders to touch. “So tell me about yourself.”
Absurdly, Liam blushes. “There’s really not that much to tell.”
“Sure there is,” Zayn says, glancing quickly toward Liam before fixing her gaze back on the mountains. “You’re, what, a senior?”
“Yeah,” Liam confirms.
Zayn smiles. “Me too. Have you decided on a college yet?”
Reflexively, Liam winces. “I’m, uh, still deciding. I might just go to a community college for my undergrad?”
Truthfully, the closer she gets to graduation, the more she hates this question. School has never been her strong suit, and at this point Liam is almost sure she’s going to spend the first few semesters of her college career at a community college. She’d spent Christmas explaining to aunts and uncles that it was an “economically sound” decision and that the local community college was a really great option, and for a few days she’d almost managed to convince herself, but every time she hears Niall talking about Notre Dame and the study abroad program she plans to do in Ireland or Louis chattering about how excited she is to study theater arts at UCLA, her heart sinks a little and she can’t help feeling sort of inadequate. She’s just met Zayn--she isn’t ready to see the judgment in her eyes too.
“Yeah, I get that,” Zayn replies, and Liam blinks, surprised. “My family moves around so much, getting all my required classes in order has been a pain, so . . .”
“Exactly!” Liam leans a little closer to Zayn, buoyed by the reassurance that they’re at least sort of on the same page. “Like, my family isn’t made of money, you know? I don’t want to ask them to pay for a school I’m not totally sure about when I don’t even know what I want to major in.”
“I dunno why the fuck they expect us to all know exactly what we want to do with our lives at seventeen,” Zayn sighs, running a hand through her already-tousled hair.
“Seriously,” Liam groans. “I can’t even pick a breakfast cereal half the time, and I’m supposed to pick an entire career?”
“Immediately.” Zayn turns to Liam, her eyes bright with a hint of mischief. “And you can’t change it, ever, or everyone’s going to think you’re a failure.”
“It’s fucking stupid,” Liam says a little too loudly, and Zayn nods solemnly, like a great truth has been spoken. Feeling braver, Liam continues, “Sometimes it makes me wish I’d chosen a different sport. Then I could, like, get a scholarship and do that, and I’d have a focus.”
“What sport?” Zayn asks.
“Cheerleading,” Liam replies tentatively. She can’t help worrying that Zayn is going to be the kind of super-smart girl that dismisses her as a ditz the minute she hears the word “cheer” come out of her mouth. “My parents put me in it when I was, like, six to help me gain confidence, and it’s kind of my life at this point.”
“Cheerleading?” Zayn cocks her head, studying Liam, who finds herself blushing furiously. After a moment, she nods. “Yeah, I can see it.”
“Can you?”
Zayn nods again. “Yeah, totally. You have that perky thing going on.”
“I don’t know about that,” Liam says, propping her elbow on the balcony railing. “I always feel weird cheering at games. Competition is more my thing.”
It’s more than just her thing, really. Liam loves competing, loves performing, finds that when she’s on the mat, she comes out of her shell and feels more like herself than she does anywhere else. She’s graduating in just a few months, and then her cheer career will be officially over, and she still hasn’t figured out how she’s going to be okay with that. It’s tearing her up, sort of.
But she’s not about to throw all of that at a girl she’s just met.
“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen a cheerleading competition,” Zayn says, and she could just be playing along to be nice, but Liam thinks she sounds genuinely interested.
“It’s really cool,” she replies eagerly. “Or, I mean, I think it is. I’m sort of biased, though.”
“Nah, it sounds cool,” Zayn laughs. “Can you, like, do flips and stuff?”
“Yeah,” Liam replies, giggling. “Tumbling, yeah. I can do that.”
“Prove it,” Zayn says immediately, her eyes glinting mischievously in the moonlight.
“That’s dangerous,” Liam says, but she’s already stepping away from the railing and shuffling out of her shoes, checking around her for hazards or loose boards on the balcony. “And I’m not dressed for it.”
Zayn smirks. “So you can’t do it, then?”
“That isn’t what I said,” Liam says, and before she has time to overthink or question it, she flips herself backward into a perfect back tuck. She lands hard on her bare feet and it stings a little, but Zayn is laughing delightedly and the rush of doing something just a little dangerous leaves Liam breathless and happy. “So now that I’ve proved it, can we open the wine?”
“Definitely,” Zayn replies. “Where’s the corkscrew?”
Shit. “I forgot to grab one,” Liam tells her, biting her lip. “Should we go back down to the kitchen, or . . . ?”
“Nah, there should be one in the suite’s minibar.”
Zayn leads the way back into the suite and Liam follows on her heels, probably a little too close. When Zayn leans down to check in the cabinets for a corkscrew, Liam finds her gaze landing on the other girl’s ass, and she frowns, willing herself to just chill for a minute.
“Got it!” Zayn announces victoriously, straightening back up with a wide grin on her face. Her eyes catch Liam’s, and her mouth softens into a sweet smile. There’s a moment where Liam almost lets herself go, almost leans in, almost forgets who she is.
Then Zayn whirls away, her voice a little too cheery when she says, “Where’d you put that wine, again?”
“Uh, left it on the balcony, I think,” Liam manages. “I’ll grab it.”
Out on the balcony she stops for a moment, breathing in deeply and trying to focus. Something about Zayn has her feeling intoxicated even though they haven’t even gotten the bottle of wine open yet, and she’s not entirely sure what to do about it. Being attracted to girls isn’t entirely something new, not when she allows herself to recognize those crushes for what they were, but she’s never connected with anyone, guy or girl, the way she’s connecting with Zayn right now. Part of her wants to go back inside and suggest that they watch TV instead of drinking, or go back down to the party, or do absolutely anything that might stop her from lowering her defenses any more than she already has. But a bigger part of her thinks fuck it, why not push her own boundaries just this once?
“Liam?” Zayn’s voice is soft as she peers through the balcony doorway, her head tilted to one side. “You okay?”
Liam jumps, nodding her head vigorously. “Yeah, totally. Just, uh, tired.”
She’s not tired at all—if anything, she’s somewhere near the opposite end of the spectrum, so hyped up just from being around this girl that she can’t sit still. Tired is an easier answer, though, a safer answer.
Zayn frowns, looking concerned. “Do you want me to go? Like, if you need to rest I don’t want to bother you.”
“No!” Liam blurts, so quickly that she thinks she sees Zayn narrow her eyes momentarily. “Not at all. I just need to start drinking, probably?”
“Alcohol is a depressant, actually,” Zayn says, but she’s smiling, and her hands are warm when she reaches out to take the bottle of wine from Liam.
*
She must be a lightweight, because barely an hour later Liam is downright drunk, curled up next to Zayn on the couch in the suite’s living room. The TV is tuned to the Music Choice Hip Hop station—Zayn’s choice—and there’s a Beyoncé song playing softly in the background. Outside, snow has started to fall around the lodge.
It’s like something out of a cliché teen romance movie, only it’s Liam’s actual, honest-to-God life.
“This is so weird,” Liam confesses, lazily taking another sip from the wine bottle, which is rapidly nearing empty as the hands of the clock sweep closer to midnight. They hadn’t wanted to dirty the glasses stored in the cupboard, so they’d simply been passing the bottle back and forth between the two of them. She almost thinks it tastes better like this. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Done what?” Zayn teases, reaching out to take the bottle from Liam. “Gotten drunk?”
“Shut up,” Liam giggles. “Not that. I just meant that I’ve never gotten this close to someone this fast before. I don’t make new friends that easily, so . . .”
“Yeah,” Zayn says softly, twirling a strand of dark hair between her index finger and her thumb. “Yeah, I get it. My family moves around a ton, so it’s hard to keep up friendships.”
Liam nods. “For me it’s almost the opposite. Like, I’ve lived in the same place since I was a baby, and had the same friends. I’ve always got Harry and Louis and Niall around, so I can’t even remember the last time I had to make a new friend.”
“Well, how do you think it’s going for you so far?” Zayn asks, her voice light and teasing.
“Not nearly as bad as I thought it might,” Liam admits. “I don’t know why I walked up to you, but I’m glad I did.”
Zayn’s cheeks go pink, and she looks down, her eyelashes a dark sweep against her cheekbones. “I’m glad you did, too.”
Her bare knee rests against Liam’s tights-clad thigh, and she’s close enough that Liam can make out the flecks of green and gold in her eyes, the tiny diamond stud in her nose, the mauve of her lips. The song in the background has switched to something low and sexy by Drake, and Zayn bites her bottom lip, twisting the thin, rose gold accent ring on her pinkie finger like she’s nervous.
Liam’s not going to kiss her.
“It’s almost midnight,” Zayn mumbles, still twisting her ring. Without thinking, Liam reaches out to stop her, catching Zayn’s hand in her own and grinning when Zayn doesn’t pull away.
“What’s your point?” Liam asks, and she’s trying to make it sound like a dare but it comes out like a plea instead. She’s leaning in to Zayn, close enough that she can feel the other girl’s breath whooshing soft over her own lips, and her heart is beating so hard and fast that she swears she can hear it in her ears, swears it’s louder than the music.
When Zayn finally closes the gap between them, Liam figures out exactly what her point is.
*
“So I was in the gym tumbling over the break,” Louis is saying, flicking her bangs out of her eyes as the four of them make their way down the school hallway, “and I was so fucking close to getting my standing double, Liam, you have no idea.”
“You can’t even compete a standing double,” Liam says absentmindedly, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders.
Louis waves a hand dismissively. “That’s not the point at all. It’s an awesome skill.”
“It is,” Niall agrees, her blond ponytail bouncing as she nods eagerly. “I wish I could still tumble.”
Harry throws an arm over Niall’s shoulders, causing both of them to stumble a little as they turn the corner. “You can still fly, though.”
Niall shrugs. “Still kind of sucks.”
Liam frowns, reaching out to place a hand on Niall’s shoulder. Ever since Niall’s knee injury last year, she hasn’t been able to tumble, and while her flying and performing skills more than make up for it on the team, Liam knows it’s a sore spot for her. “Hey, who knows? Once you get your surgery, you’ll probably be able to start tumbling again.”
“Yeah, probably,” Niall agrees. “Anyway, how was your break? Kiss anyone on New Year’s Eve?”
Zayn’s face flashes in Liam’s mind, all soft smiles and white teeth and sparkling eyes, and she pushes it away, wills herself not to think about it. “No. I just hung out at this boring teen party thing at the lodge and then left to watch the ball drop on TV in my room,” she says, rolling her eyes.
It’s not that her friends wouldn’t be okay with Liam kissing another girl—she’s more than aware of what Louis and Harry have gotten up to at travel competitions before, and Jesy and Perrie, two other girls on the team, have been together since sophomore year. If anything, Liam’s team is fiercely protective of everyone’s right to be themselves. It’s something she’s made sure of as their captain.
She just hadn’t anticipated that she’d wind up with those same feelings herself, and she’s not ready to tell anyone else, isn’t sure when she’ll get there.
“Too bad,” Louis says. “But hey, your next New Year’s Eve will be in college, yeah? Things are bound to get interesting then.”
“Exactly.” Liam nods, still trying to shake the thought of Zayn from her mind. It’s not relevant, not anymore, and anyway, they’ve arrived at their classroom. “Okay, Niall, this is us.”
“Already?” Niall groans.
“Unfortunately,” Liam says with a giggle, grabbing Niall’s hand and tugging her into the room for their English class. It’s not her best subject—she doesn’t have a best subject, really—but their teacher, Ms. Watson, is sort of awesome and if she has to be in a class at eight o’clock in the morning, this one isn’t nearly as bad as Mr. Cowell’s pre-calc class.
She’s turned around waving goodbye to Louis and Harry, so she doesn’t notice her until she’s already a few feet inside the classroom. That’s when she looks up and her eyes lock on a small figure curled into a desk in the front row, twisting a familiar ring around her pinkie finger. Liam freezes, her eyes wide, barely stopping herself from saying the name that’s on her lips.
Zayn.