Stupid Hope

Joe shoved his books into his locker, only half-paying attention to the footsteps coming up behind him. He didn’t need to look. Nobody walked like Liam did.

Those heavy, confident steps the kind that sent people scattering before he even said a word.

“Joe.”

He froze, fingers gripping the locker door.

With a slow turn, Joe faced him.

Liam stood there in his practice clothes, hair wild with sweat, looking exhausted, like today just sucked the life out of him.

“Liam,” Joe got out, voice thin, almost swallowed by the noise in the hallway.

“Walk with me.”

It wasn’t a question. Liam was already heading down the hall. Joe hustled to keep up—he always did. Backpack bouncing against his back, locker slamming shut behind him. Sticking with Liam felt like racing after a train you’d never catch. He never waited around. You just had to know where to go.

Whole crowds poured toward the exits, shooting glances at Joe as he went. Some looked confused—like what was Joe doing with him? Others just seemed sorry.

He kept his eyes straight ahead, pretending not to notice.

“Practice sucked today,” Liam muttered, not even bothering to look over. “Coach kept riding me about control. Like I don’t have any.”

“You looked good,” Joe tried. “I was watching—”

“Didn’t ask what you saw.”

Joe shut up.

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of their footsteps and the muffled tap of Liam’s fingers racing over his phone. Eventually, Liam snapped it shut with a glare.

“Vale’s tutoring the new kid.”

“Yeah. Noah.”

“Why.”

“Noah needed help. Jay offered.”

Liam snorted—a sharp, ugly laugh. “Jay never just offers anything. He wants something. What’s he want from Carter?”

“Maybe he’s just helping out,” Joe said, though even he could hear how weak it sounded.

Liam stopped short. Joe nearly crashed into him.

He spun on Joe, annoyance written all over his face. “You really believe that?”

Joe hesitated. “I dunno.”

“Vale doesn’t help people. He collects them.” Liam leaned in, voice colder. “Now he’s collecting your friend. You better warn him.”

“Noah can handle himself.”

“Oh, really? You sure? Or is he just another clueless scholarship kid who doesn’t get how things work around here?”

Joe looked away and said nothing.

Liam stalked off and Joe fell in behind him, because where else was he going to go?

They wound up behind the gym, in that dead spot near the equipment shed where it always felt abandoned, like nobody else would ever show up.

Liam leaned against the wall and fished out a cigarette.

Joe watched him light it, smoke curling around his head.

“You shouldn’t smoke,” Joe muttered.

“Yeah?” Liam said, blowing smoke right at him. “You gonna stop me?”

“No.”

“Then don’t bother.”

Joe studied his shoes, feeling stupid for even trying.

They stood that way for a long time. Just the sound of Liam breathing, the scratch of his lighter, nothing else. Joe wanted to ask what they were doing here, what Liam wanted, but kept quiet, like he always did.

This was their routine. Liam said jump, and Joe jumped. Every damn time.

Even on days when Liam barely acknowledged him. Days when every word landed like a slap. When Joe’s head screamed at him to finally walk away.

He never did.

“You’re staring,” Liam said.

Joe flinched, face on fire. “Sorry.”

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Apologize for everything.” Liam finally looked right at him, eyes sharp and tired. “You say sorry when you talk, when you breathe. It’s pathetic.”

That one stung, but Joe stayed put.

“I’m sorry.” He meant to hold the words back but they slipped out anyway.

Liam laughed, hard and mean. “See? There you go.”

Joe bit his lip, wishing he could stop.

Liam dropped the cigarette, crushed it under his heel, and stepped right up to Joe—close enough for Joe to see the scar over his eyebrow. He smelled like sweat and smoke.

“Why do you trail after me?” Liam asked.

Joe’s answer was quiet: “Because you said to.”

“And if I told you to jump off a bridge?”

Joe stood there, silent. They both knew what he’d do.

Liam’s eyes went cold. “You’re too easy, Joe. Seriously.”

“I know.”

“So why stay?”

Because I love you, Joe thought, but the words jammed in his throat.

“I don’t know,” he lied.

Liam stared, then tugged Joe by the backpack strap.

Joe stumbled, catching himself as Liam shoved his gym bag at him.

He took it—heavy, damp, just like always.

“Liam, I—”

“I’m in the west lot. Move.”

Liam was already walking before Joe even finished talking.

Joe stood there holding both bags. He could’ve dropped them and just left—finally said enough and walked away. But he didn’t.

He hiked the straps up and trailed after Liam.

Crossing campus felt like an eternity. Kids everywhere, yelling, laughing, not paying any attention, except a few who stared and whispered as Joe went by, loaded down like the world’s saddest pack mule. One of the girls shot him a look so full of pity it burned.

He kept his eyes glued to the ground and kept shuffling.

Finally, they reached the parking lot. Liam’s black SUV looked shiny and perfect—a car Joe’d never get close to otherwise.

Liam popped the trunk. “Put it in.”

Joe tossed the bag inside, careful not to slam it.

Liam surprised him: “Thanks.”

The only kind thing he’d heard all day. It was stupid but it still made Joe feel better.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled.

For a moment, Liam actually looked at him—the tiniest bit softer. Then it was gone.

“See you tomorrow,” Liam said, already climbing into the car.

He drove off, not looking back.

Joe stood under the parking lot lights, watching the taillights until they faded out, shoulders hunched and aching with cold.

If Liam called, he’d follow all over again. No question.

Because that’s what he did. Every single time.

Some piece of him still hoped that if he just waited long enough, if he stayed right here, maybe one day Liam would finally see him. See him the way Joe saw Liam.

Even if it was stupid. Even if it hurt.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and started the slow, lonely walk to the bus stop.