CHAPTER FIVE
ORANGE JUICE
ZACK
I’m tired. Like, bone-deep tired. I don’t know the last time I got more than a full hour of sleep, but all I know is Hazel—though beyond gorgeous—is going to be a liability. I don’t know if bringing her along is the best option, but if there’s anyone who knows about this situation, it would be her. I made the decision to make the long ass trip from Maplewood back to Murfreesboro.
Took me almost twelve hours to get home, and luckily the weather held. I slept most of the day, and after deciding to be a human and not rot for the rest of the day, I made my way into the kitchen. Sam walked in shortly after, looking disheveled, slightly strung out, and I know that I can’t let this shit get to me.
I pour him a cup of orange juice and hand it over. Sam takes it, eyes flicking away from mine. His wavy, brown hair is a mess—untamed and uncut. I can’t hold back. “Sammy, when’s the last time you cut your hair?”
He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at the OJ as he swirls it in the cup. I want to say more, but I hold back. Because everything else is already hanging in the air between us.
“Why do you care?” he finally says, his voice low. His eyes are sunken in and he looks anxious, his hand showing a subtle tremor. I know this isn’t my responsibility, and I know that I could just leave at any moment, but I won’t. He won't, either. He lets out an irritated growl, grabs his sweater, his pack of Marlboros, and slams the door behind him. I watch him from the kitchen window as he sits on the back steps like he’s waiting for something that just won't come. His leg bounces and his fingernails tap against his BIC lighter—his nervous tic. He doesn’t talk to me anymore, just gets angry all the time. Unfortunately, I know the signs, and he’s strung out. Again.
I admit, I haven’t been the most present lately. That’s not my fault, but things go two ways. I walk outside, my shadow looming over him like the darkness consuming me has taken shape. “You gonna smoke that thing or just fondle it to death?”
He doesn’t look up, just mutters, “Didn’t know I needed your permission to sit outside.”
“You don’t.” I lean against the railing. “But I’m starting to wonder what exactly it is youdoneed. Because your pupils are shot to hell and your jaw’s been ticking all morning.”
He finally lights the cigarette, sucking in like it’s the first breath he’s taken all day. “Jesus, Zack. You really never get tired of this?”
“Tired of what? Watching my brother spiral?”
Sam snorts, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth. “I’m not spiraling.”
“You’re wired, you haven’t eaten since yesterday, and I’m pretty sure you’ve been up for forty-eight hours. What do you want me to call it?”
He stands, all sharp movements and defensiveness. “I want you tobutt out, okay? You’re not my dad.”
There it is. The line he always pulls when he’s cornered.
“No,” I say, calmly. “I’m not. But someone’s gotta care, and right now that someone is me.”
“Well maybe I don’t want you to.” He’s pacing now, the cigarette dangling between his fingers like he can’t stand still long enough to feel anything. “You think just because you showed up after everything went to shit, you get to act like you’re in charge?”
I keep my tone level. “I’m not trying to be in charge. I’m trying to make sure you don’t end up dead in a ditch.”
“God, listen to yourself.” He laughs, but it’s dry and brittle. “You think you’re some kind of savior, don’t you?”
I take a step forward. “No. I think I’m the only one left who gives a damn.”
He turns on me. “You weren’t even around, Zack. Not when it mattered.”
I feel that hit somewhere deep in my chest. Iwasaround. I dropped every single thing for him. I left my life for him, got a job out here and made sure he never had to struggle. He doesn’t know the extent of things that I’ve done, or what my guys have done. I had to wait until I was stable enough to become his legal guardian. I did things as fast as I could, but it wasn’t enough. And that guilt eats at me daily.
“I know.”
“You think you can just waltz back in and fix things? You think that makes up for you disappearing for years? For not being there when—” He cuts himself off, his eyes flashing. “You know what? I blame you.”
The air stops. He looks me dead in the eye and says it again—quieter, but with more venom.
“I blame you for them dying.”
It’s like the ground shifts under my feet. Like he just cracked something in me I didn’t even know was still whole. I don’t say anything, not right away. I just look at him, and I know he sees it—the hurt, the betrayal, the weight of it all. I pride myself on being the bigger person because of how much of an age gap there is between us. I’ve had such a long time to keep everything locked away from him, to protect him. His expression changes fast, the young boy that he truly is making an appearance again.
“I didn’t mean that,” he says, the bravado gone in an instant. “I was just—just pissed. I didn’t mean it, Zack.”
