Not, you don’t even like me. Not really. More along the lines of,I never liked you.
Zach had already met the current love of his life before he saw me. Before he asked me to go out with him. Just a filler until the real girl of his dreams came swinging back into his life.
My face burns with dull fury.
Just like Dee. Isn’t that what she’s saying with her refusal to let me explain?I never liked you.
Self-pity wells inside me, hitting my stomach and still filling, hitting my oesophagus, flooding my mouth until I’m choking.
Caylon clings to me, wrapping his arms around me so I can barely struggle, let alone extricate myself. He clutches me and his face is flooded with misgiving.
Typical. I immediately connect to the parts of his story that affect me and didn’t stop for a minute to think how what he’s saying hurts him.
This story isn’t a story. This is real. His reality.
A scene I can scarcely imagine must be playing out in his mind. Like my least favourite earworm, he’s probably relived it a dozen times over every day since it happened.
He’s certainly reliving it in all its horrific glory right now. I can feel his heart thumping, so fast it’s like it thinks there’s a race to the finish line.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say because it’s not. Not for me. Not for him. “You’re okay.”
And for the first time it hits me like a slap. He’s not okay. The haunted expression in his eyes clears into blankness and I wonder if that dull mask is what he wears when he’s in retreat.
Some part of me believed that was his genuine face. The lack of expression due to a lack of feeling. I thought the emotions that occasionally alternate with the blankness were the falsehood.
It didn’t occur to me the reverse was true. That he should be full of joy, sadness, anger, but was forced to shelter in this nondescript box instead; the only place safe from this horror, where nothing can penetrate.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say, offering us both a lifeline. Half—at least half—of me hopes he won’t. It’s hard to stay focused on what I need to do to escape my troubles when he’s spilling out the rotten core of his.
I don’t know what he’s trying to prove. That he has as much reason to leave as I do? Fine. He can join me.
The despair doubles and pulls my head underwater again. When I fight my way free, Caylon is talking again.
“There’s a clean-up crew who take care of… situations like that and I stayed to help them.”
“Why?” I twist around to fully face him. “It wasn’t your mess.”
His voice drops lower. “He was my friend. Not a good one and not one I would’ve missed if he moved and never stayed in touch but still… I knew him since primary.”
I press my forehead against his cheek, resting there while he struggles to find the right words to follow.
My heart swells with a pure affection for him so strong it’s almost painful. Twisting and turning through my mind, my body. I’m scared of where this confession will take us, but I want to be here for him. Even against my self-interest.
“It was my fault.”
I shake my head while staying in contact with his cheek. “Don’t be stupid. You don’t control Zach.”
“He was playing with him. For a minute, maybe more. Using Lily to do it—she was the one holding the gun—but he was in control, and Iknowhim. I know what he’s like. What he’s capable of. I could’ve stepped in and stopped it… stopped him…”
His voice tangles, choking him to a stop. I twist inside his embrace, turning to straddle him. My arms link behind his neck as I let him press his face against me to hide.
“It’s not just that…”
I lean back enough that he can tilt his face to look up at me. I thought I hated the look of self-confidence always shining in his eyes but now, seeing the doubts planted there, I miss it.
“You don’t have to say anything more,” I whisper, wishing he would stop because I understand this mission for what it is. I’ll show you mine and you show me yours.
I don’t want to show him mine. Don’t want that at all.
