Chapter 20

Zoe

I stared at the message.

WANT TO COME OVER AND BE MY STUDY BUDDY?

He must be having more problems with Hillary. Did I feel up to being a supportive friend? Not really. But my guess is that's when you need to be one the most.

"Ugh."

Minutes later, I pounded down the stairs.

Dad looked up from the couch where he seemed to be doing some work or something. His glasses were on and he was holding his ever-present, yellow legal tablet, a pen stuck behind his ear. "Hey. Where are you going?"

I didn't slow. "I'm gonna hang with Zack. We're studying."

"Okay..." I heard the last from the bottom step of the porch stairs. "...bye."

When I got to his house, Zack opened the door. "Hey."

"Hey." He moved aside and I walked past him. "Well this is an unprecedented event."

"What? Studying?"

I nodded. It wasn't until I was hit by that lopsided grin that I realized how much I'd missed him.

"Well, I understand it actually helps some kids get good grades."

I shrugged. "I'm willing to give it a try, if you are." His mom stuck her head around the corner of the kitchen and I waved. "Hi, Mrs. Issaacs."

"Zoe. Good to see you."

Zack put his hand on my elbow and yanked me in the direction of the stairs. "Nice to see you, too." Something wonderful was making the whole house smell good. "Man. That smells good. What is she making?"

"Stew, I think. Want to stay for dinner?"

"Nah. Thanks. I already ate." I stopped in his doorway. Both beds were made and nothing was on the floor. "Dude. You actually cleaned."

"Had to happen sometime."

I turned around and he was closing the door. "I thought your mom had an open door policy."

He shrugged. "She trusts us." He walked over and retrieved some textbooks out of the backpack on his bed.

I looked around. Other than being clean, nothing had changed. I found that comforting. I dropped my backpack and flopped on his spare bed. A weight lifted. It was like returning to my youth. Before things got complicated.

"You want to listen to Seether's newest single?"

I smiled. "Heck, yeah." He tossed me his phone. It was already cued up. I pushed play, set it on the mattress, and laid on my stomach, concentrating on the music. He didn't talk until it was over.

He raised his eyebrows in expectation. "Well?"

"Well... I hate to say this, but... it sounds too much like their old stuff. I'm a tad disappointed."

"I know. I thought the same thing. It's only a single though. I'm sure the rest of the album will kick ass." He sat on the edge of his bed. "So, how've ya been?"

"Good, good." I bounced a second, then flipped on my side to face him. "So what's Hillary doing tonight that you got a Get Out Of Jail Free pass?"

He grabbed a pillow to put behind him and scooted back against the wall. "We broke up."

I scrambled into a seated position. "What? I didn't know that."

He shrugged. "No big deal."

So she broke up with him. The bitch.

Although, he did actually seem happier. "So my supportive friend thing didn't work."

"Nope." He grinned. "But it was a nice try."

It was so weird they broke up and I didn't even know about it. I used to know everything about Zack, from where he hid his extra money, to what he missed most about his dad. After a few seconds, I asked him, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shrugged. "Not much to say. Like I told you at Zesto's, we're too different. We tried too hard to be... I don't know. A couple, I guess. A relationship shouldn't be that much work. So, I broke up with her."

He broke up with her. Interesting.

"Well, good. You deserve better."

His eyes widened. "What? You were pushing me to—" he made air quotes "—'give her time.' I thought you liked her."

"She's okay. But you should be with someone who appreciates you more. For who you are." He stared at me in that weird way he sometimes did. Neither of us said anything and I finally broke eye contact.

I reached for my backpack. "So what do you want to study?"

He scooted back over to the edge of his bed and leaned forward. "Actually, I didn't really want to study. I wanted to talk to you."

I stopped unzipping my bag, staring at him. Slowly, I straightened. "So, why didn't you say so?"

"Ehh. I suppose I could have, but you would have texted back, 'what do you want to talk about' and I didn't want to talk over text."

"So, what do you want to talk about?" He hesitated and I got a bad vibe.

"Well, first off... is anything on your mind you wanted to share with me?"

What was he now? Dr. Oz? "N-n-no. Should there be?"

"I'm not sure." He laced his fingers together. "Let's start over. There was something I wanted to talk to you about once, and you weren't ready to talk about it at the time. I'd like to rewind and have that conversation."

My palms became wet with sweat. What the hell was he talking about? My heart began beating faster, commanded into a tempo that had become familiar. It was the same pulse-pounding rhythm of the fear that had haunted me for weeks. The anxiety that stirred whenever I opened my laptop, or caught a glimpse of Ben's car somewhere. "What conversation was that?"

"The night Dani was in an accident. When I came to your house, you had a number of cuts and—"

An acid taste filled my mouth and I jumped to my feet, reaching down for my book bag, then slinging it over one shoulder. "There's nothing to talk about."

He was on his feet, too. I moved toward the door and he bolted over in front of me, spreading his arms out to block my path.

My heart jackhammered. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. I just want to talk."

I looked at his arms pointedly. "I'm feeling kind of trapped here." The air in the room was too thin to breathe.

He lowered his arms a bit. "I-I'm not trying to trap you. I only want to talk."

I clenched my jaw, glaring at him. "Well, I don't want to talk." Tightening my grip on my bag's strap, I lowered a shoulder and tried to push past him.

He put his hands on my biceps and I sort of freaked. "Don't touch me!" I shoved him. I shoved him harder than I wanted to, and he flew back and hit the corner of the wall where his closet met the short wall running to the door. He stumbled, but stayed on his feet.

I stared in horror at what I'd done. "Oh, my God!"

He groaned, stepping away from the wall and arching his back. He danced around, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

I dropped my backpack and went to him. "Oh, shit, Zack! Did I hurt you?"

He bent over and put his hands on his knees, then moved one to the back of his head. "Mmm."

"Did you hit your head? Are you all right?"

He straightened, still rubbing his hair. "Why did you do that?"

"I-I-I don't know. I panicked. I—" I was losing it. I couldn't keep control anymore. I fought for an explanation of why I was so schizoid and came up with a streak of anger to hold on to. "You were blocking my way."

And there they were. The tears. It didn't matter I didn't want to cry in front of him.

"I know, but... geez!"

The shaking took over. For so long now, I'd been a prisoner in my own body. It reacted and I held on for the ride. I put a hand over my mouth. "I'm sorry."

He raised his head and it was like my pain made him forget his own. "Zoe." He closed the distance between us and threw his arms around me. The sobs made me shudder so hard I thought I'd fall apart.

The door opened. "Zack, I heard—" Her eyes grew wide.

He waved her off.

"Sorry," she said, closing the door.

He held me closer and let me cry.

"I'm sorry, Zack. I didn't mean to h-hurt you. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Sh-sh-sh. I'm all right." He moved us over to the bed I'd been sitting on and scooted toward the corner. He jerked a little when his back touched the wall.

I lifted my head from his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut and his face was tight. "Did that hurt?"

He shook his head, settled gently against it, and lifted his arm for me to duck under. He ran his hand along my hair over and over again and it soothed me. I was able to get my breathing back under control and stop the tears. The shaking lessened, too.

He laid his cheek on the top of my head. "Zoe. We need to talk about this."

I shook my head. The tears rose and threatened again, but I was able to hold them in check.

"Yes," he said sternly. "Holding in... whatever it is... that's what's making you sick."

I sniffed and lifted my head to look at him. "What do you mean?"

He held my arm up, and circled my wrist with his fingers. "You've lost too much weight. You're not sleeping. You—"

"How do you know that?"

"It doesn't matter. What does matter is we talk this out. We've been friends for a long time. Can't you trust me with this?"

"It's not trust. I—I can handle this, Zack."

He put a hand on the side of my face and tilted my head more to look in my eyes. "When things get too heavy for you to carry alone, you're supposed to let me take the load. That's my job."

I flashed back to the two of us struggling to get that sewer lid off.

My heart stung. I peered into his face, the face I'd loved for so long. My heart was pounding, and my head was dizzy, but I pushed it away. A flash of desire made me want to kiss him. I needed to feel his soft, but powerful, lips on mine.

He bent his head toward me, and moved closer until we nearly met. He was so close I felt the breath of his word on my mouth. "Wait." His gaze searched my face. "Wait," he said louder, shifting away from me. The word "why" resounded in my mind, but I couldn't force my lips to move. He put his head against the wall and scrunched his eyes closed.

My stomach dropped and I was going to be sick again. I pushed off the bed and away from him.

His head came up quickly, and he grabbed my arm. "No!" I was shocked to catch tears in his eyes. "Please." He puts his hands on either side of my face and brushed his thumbs across my lips. "I want to kiss you, Zoe. So bad it hurts. But... I value our friendship above everything else... I want to make sure, when or if we kiss, it is the right thing for both of us. Okay?"

My heart was in my throat. He felt something more with me than friendship? I nodded. But his saying he wanted to kiss me, but couldn't, made me want to kiss him all the more. It was like I was caught in a huge net, attached to a winch. The pull was so strong it affected every part of my body. My skin ached for his touch. My arms ached to hold him. My lungs ached because being near him made it hard to breathe. But my heart ached most of all, because something I desperately wanted and I thought would never happen, could possibly have a chance of becoming real.

"This isn't the right time. Do you understand?"

My mouth obeyed this time, forming the word, "Why?"

He looked down for a second. "If we take our relationship beyond friendship, we need to start it out with complete honesty. You need to let me help you. I need to know what happened that night."

The truth was, I wanted to tell him. I needed to tell somebody and he was the only one I trusted with it. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise me one thing."

He frowned. "What?"

"This happened to me, and I want to be the one to decide how it's handled."

His jaw twitched. "You mean if that idiot Ben Oatam did something reckless that hurt you, I can't chew him out? 'Cause I'm not sure I can agree to that."

"I can't tell you if you'll fly off the handle—"

He scoffed. "I won't fly off the handle."

"You haven't heard it yet."

Something in my tone must have finally gotten through to him. "Okay. Now you really need to tell me."

"Not unless you promise."

"Zoe. You know that's not fair."

"Listen. I know you want to help me, but I love you too much to let something happen to you."

"What's going to happen to me?"

"If you were to get upset and try to take matters in your own hands, you could get hurt, or get in trouble...."

His eyes took on a new fire. "What happened?"

"I'm not saying until—"

"You went out on a date. He did something to scare you..." His face registered recognition. "You were scared that night. When I came over to your house and knocked on the door, you screamed."

I didn't make eye contact. I wanted to unburden myself, but not at the expense of something bad happening to Zack. I had a sudden thought.

"Why did you tell me he wasn't a nice guy?"

"Because he... he treats women like they're playthings. He doesn't respect them." He looked at me. "Did he.... Did he try something with you?"

I put a hand over my stomach. Images from the car flashed through my mind. The disgust, and terror, and humiliation....

"Why do you keep messing with that?"

I didn't even realize my other hand was on my scar.

He hesitantly touched his own finger to the scar. "Your chest was scratched bad." His gaze fell to my mouth. "Your lips were broken open... and you had a bump on your head." His eyes grew wide. "What the hell happened to you?"

Happened. If only it was one night. I could forget about that eventually. Or at least I hoped I could. But it never ended. He followed me places, sent me texts, pictures....

"Oh, my God!" He hopped out of bed. He put his hands on his head. "Oh. My. God." He looked at me. "This wasn't an accident, was it? He hurt you, on purpose." My inability to answer answered for me. He went over to his desk and grabbed his jacket.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to kill him."

"No, Zack! This is why I didn't tell you."

It was like I was no longer in the room. "Where are my damned keys?" He jerked open a drawer and rummaged around in it.

"Zack, stop!"

"Maybe I left them on the counter," he grumbled. He moved to the door. I didn't have enough time to get around him and block the way, but I grabbed hold of his arm and used my weight to slow him.

He was shaking. "Let go, Zoe."

"No."

"Let go." He put his hands on the side of his head. "Oh, my God. He hurt you and I did nothing." He was crying.

The fear holding me captive for... however long it was, it was nothing compared to the insane level of panic surging through me at this moment.

"Zack. You didn't know."

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Well, you'll tell me now. You'll tell me every detail. Every single thing he did to you."

I looked around the room frantically. Looked for a way to escape from this mess. "I can't. I can't do that."

He stilled. "Where did this happen?"

Images bombarded me, one after the other. Desolate tennis courts. The baseball field. The woods. I staggered backward.

"Zoe?"

I turned away from him and doubled over. Everything was getting fuzzy.

"Zoe?"

I was falling. I could make out the bed, but it was like I was looking through water. I reached out for it and went down on one knee. Zack's hands caught me under my arms. My head lolled.

This is so weird.

He lifted me and put his knee on the bed, tugging and twisting my body until most of my upper torso was on the mattress.

"Oh, geez!" He sounded freaked out.

He climbed over me awkwardly and I shut my eyes. My legs were raised and moved onto the bed.

His hands were on my face. "Zoe?"

"I feel weird."

"It's okay. I'm getting my mom."

"No. No. I don't want her to see me like this. Just—just get me a glass of water. Please."

I opened my eyes. He was kneeling on the floor next to the bed. He jumped up and left.

Oh, God. Please don't let him be getting his mom.

My head rolled to the side and I closed my eyes. I needed to rest. Then I'd feel better.

Next thing I knew a cold rag lay on my forehead. The coolness began to sink into me and restore some level of calm.

"Ohh. That's good."

"Do you want a drink?"

I did, but I couldn't sit. "In a minute."

He ran a hand over my hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you into telling me what you weren't ready to tell me."

His voice came clearly through the humming and fuzziness in my head. He wasn't to blame. I needed to think clearly. I put everything in me into focusing.

"No." My voice was barely a whisper. "I need to tell you. I should have told someone a long time ago. I'll tell you everything."