Maya's POV
"Wait."
My voice came out sharp before I could stop it. Liam froze mid-step, his back still facing me.
"Don't walk away," I said. "Not after everything you just said."
He turned slowly. His face looked tight, like he was holding his breath.
"What else is there to say?" he asked.
"Tell me the truth," I said. "All of it."
He stared at me for a long second. Then he shook his head and rubbed his face with both hands.
"This is a bad idea," he muttered.
"You already made it a bad idea when you dragged me into it," I said. "So finish it."
His jaw worked like he was chewing on something painful. Finally, he spoke.
"My shoulder is injured," he said. "Badly."
The words felt heavy, even though I already knew.
"How bad?" I asked.
"Bad enough that if the coach finds out, I'm benched," he said. "Bad enough that scouts walk away."
My chest tightened. "So you're playing through it."
"Yes."
"And the pills?" I asked.
He looked away. "Just to get through practice. Games."
"That's not safe," I said.
"I know," he snapped, then softened. "I know. But I don't have a choice."
"You always have a choice," I said.
"Not when basketball is the only thing keeping me here," he said. "Not when my future depends on it."
I felt the weight of his fear settle in my chest.
"When did it happen?" I asked.
"Mid-season," he said. "I felt something tear. I told myself it was nothing."
"And now?"
"And now it hurts every time I move it wrong," he said. "Sometimes even when I don't."
I remembered the way he stiffened. The way he guarded that arm.
"Why not get help?" I asked. "Real help."
"Because help means rest," he said. "And rest means the end."
"That's not true," I said.
"It is in my world," he said. "You don't lose your spot and get it back easily."
Silence filled the space between us.
"I'm scared," he admitted quietly.
The words shocked me more than anything else.
Liam Carter was scared.
"I didn't mean for you to hear," he said. "I never wanted you involved."
"But I am," I said. "Whether you like it or not."
He nodded once. "That's why I need you to promise me something."
My heart started racing. "What?"
"Don't tell anyone," he said. "Please."
The word please felt raw.
"I can't lie for you," I said.
"I'm not asking you to lie," he said. "Just stay quiet."
"That's the same thing," I said.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "If the coach finds out now, I'm done. No season. No future. Nothing."
I thought about rent. About pressure. About fear.
"I get why you're doing this," I said. "But that doesn't make it right."
"I don't need right," he said. "I need time."
"And what if you make it worse?" I asked. "What if you can't play ever again?"
His eyes flickered with panic.
"Then I'll deal with it," he said. "Later."
"That's not fair to you," I said.
He let out a tired laugh. "Life hasn't been fair in a long time."
I looked at him, really looked at him.
Not the captain. Not the star.
Just a guy holding himself together with hope and pain.
"I don't want to hurt you," I said.
"Then help me," he said.
My chest ached. "By staying silent?"
"Yes."
The choice sat heavy on my shoulders.
If I spoke, I could ruin him.
If I stayed quiet, I could be part of the lie.
"I hate this," I whispered.
"So do I," he said.
I closed my eyes, then opened them again.
"Fine," I said. "I won't tell."
His breath rushed out like he had been holding it in for years.
"Thank you," he said. "You have no idea what that means."
"But this isn't forever," I added. "You have to promise me something too."
"What?" he asked.
"When it gets worse, you stop," I said. "You get help."
He hesitated. "I can't promise that."
"Then I can't promise silence," I said.
He looked torn. Then he nodded once. "I'll try."
It wasn't enough, but it was something.
"Good," I said.
We stood there, both quiet, both shaken.
"I never wanted you to see me like this," he said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I'm supposed to be strong," he said. "Everyone expects it."
"You don't have to be strong all the time," I said.
He gave a small smile. "You say that like it's easy."
"It's not," I said. "But it's honest."
He glanced around the library, then leaned in slightly.
"Just promise me one more thing," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"If anyone asks, you didn't hear anything," he said.
I nodded. "I promise."
As soon as the words left my mouth, a strange feeling crawled up my spine.
I turned my head without meaning to.
And that's when I saw him.
Coach Ramirez stood across the library, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
Watching us.
My breath caught.
Liam followed my gaze.
His face went pale.
Coach Ramirez did not look away.
He watched us like he was counting pieces.
And I knew, right then, that staying quiet was about to become impossible.