I scoff, rolling my eyes so hard I'm surprised they don't stick.
"Please. You sure it was out of pity for your brother? Or because he threatened to cut off your endless supply of Elijah's thirst trap photos if you didn't help?"
That does it. Sam breaks into a wider grin, both hands shooting up in surrender. "Fine, fine—you got me there. You know when he dangles my Eli in front of me, I'm helpless. Blackmail of the cruelest kind."
I shake my head, trying to bite back the smile tugging at my mouth, but it's useless. The corners give way, and before I know it, I'm grinning too. Sam's shameless, utterly unapologetic obsession with Elijah is ridiculous... but damn if it isn't contagious.
Her grin fades, softening into something a little more thoughtful. She pushes off her bed, padding across the small space until she perches on the edge of mine.
"All joking aside though," she says, "I know it wasn't right to use our emergency code like that. And I am sorry, Care. Really. Ijust... saw how badly Zach wanted to talk to you. To make things right."
Her hands knot in her lap, fingers picking at her nails.
"When you left without saying goodbye, it really did a number on him. It was like you took all the light out of his eyes when you walked away." She shakes her head, remembering. "He tried calling, texting—but you blocked him. For months he looked like... I don't know, the walking dead version of himself. Gloomy cloud over his head, dragging through every day like he couldn't figure out how to keep going."
I give her a look, skeptical. This has Sam's usual flair for exaggeration written all over it.
She catches it instantly and lets out a humorless laugh, one shoulder lifting. "I know that face. But I'm not exaggerating, Care. Zach really went full emo era after you left. You should've seen him—mopey, broody, and listening to music that made me want to gag. It was honestly pathetic."
I don't say anything right away. My eyes drop to the crumpled sheet still in my lap, though the words blur uselessly on the page. Silence stretches, heavy, contemplative, while Sam studies me like she's waiting for the wall to crack.
"Did you know," she says softly, "that he almost got kicked off the team freshman year?"
My head snaps up. "What? Why?"
Sam's lips tilt into a sad smile. "I told you... you leaving did a number on him. When he realized you weren't at Ridgewater U like you were supposed to be—that you'd really gone—it just... broke something in him. He kept skipping practice, and you know Zachnevermisses a practice."
Really? That doesn't sound like the Zach I know.
"And when he did show up, it was half-assed. He played like an amateur out there, not the guy everyone called a hockey prodigy in high school. Like... imagine watching Supermanforget how to fly. It was embarrassing." She huffs out a little laugh, but it doesn't reach her eyes.
My chest tightens, the air turning sharp in my lungs.
"What really pushed the coach over the edge was when Zach went AWOL for days. Didn't tell anyone where he was, just vanished. I only found out later from Mom that he actually went to New York... to look for you."
"What?"
"Yeah. I don't know what exactly happened after that trip... or how he even managed to keep his spot on the team. All I know is when he came back, he was different. Back to his old self. He started showing up again, actually taking hockey seriously. Probably figured if he kept going the way he was—kept screwing up—he'd lose something else important."
She gives a small shrug, almost sheepish.
"And after losing you? He couldn't afford that."
The words slam into me, harder than I want them to.
Zach went to New York. To look for me.
It echoes in my head, again and again, until it's all I can hear. My pulse stumbles, my grip on the manuscript tightening like it's the only thing keeping me grounded.
Zach went to New York...for me?
My throat works, but no words come out.
Sam's hand reaches out, her fingers brushing against my arm. When I glance at her, her eyes are wide, almost pleading.
"I know Zach is probably the last person you want to deal with right now—after what he did, after he broke your heart. And I get it. Believe me, I do. I'm still mad at him for making you feel so small, like you weren't enough... like you weren't beautiful."
The words hit harder than I want them to. My chest tightens, but I hold her gaze.
