Senior Semester: All The While Part 21

"Not much." I admit after inhaling my whole slice. "Hung out with the guys for a bit, played some Xbox, nothing exciting."

"That's cool." She helps herself to another slice of pizza and takes a big bite, smiling at me as she chews.

I shake my head and smile back.

Chapter Forty-Four.

Maura

This pizza is really good. I should probably cap myself at two slices. But three isn't tragic when you work out as much as I do, right?

d.a.m.n, Zack's s.e.xy AF. His blond hair is disheveled with pieces falling forward out of his bun, as if he just rolled out of bed to meet me here.

I glance at the clock on the wall. It's one of those plain white circle clocks rimmed in black. The same one that stared down at me from every cla.s.sroom I've ever sat in. It's oddly familiar. Although the time, 3:48 AM, is not. Thank G.o.d we don't have practice tomorrow.

"Sorry for waking you," I apologize, cutting my glance back to Zack.

He smiles. "Trust me, I'd rather eat pizza with you than sleep."

Well that stops me from reaching for a third slice. d.a.m.n, why the h.e.l.l does he have to be so sweet?

I smile back anyway. Shameless.

"I'm glad." It comes out quiet, like I'm unsure of myself. And in this moment, with him, I am.

He reaches a hand across the table tentatively, stroking the underside of my wrist with his fingers. A jolt of electricity shudders down my spine at the simple touch, and I sigh, clenching my fingers into a fist. "Me too. I like hanging out with you, Maura. More than you know. More than I probably should."

It's a confession. And I like it.

He lets go of my wrist slowly, his fingers lingering on my palm before retreating back to his side of the table.

"Thanks for telling me," I tell him honestly.

He shakes his head slightly, random pieces of hair brus.h.i.+ng the tops of his shoulders. "I doubt you'll remember this conversation tomorrow, Maura."

I scowl. Is that the only reason why he told me he likes me? Well, kind of anyway. Because I'm drunk?

"I'll remember," I say defiantly, wincing at the defensiveness in my tone.

Zack laughs lightly. "If you say so. What's got you out by yourself, drunk as all h.e.l.l, dancing with random guys at some shady a.s.s bar in the middle of the night anyway? Don't you know that s.h.i.+t's not safe? Especially around here." He gestures toward the door. This area really is s.h.i.+t.

I shrug. "Had to get out."

Zack sighs, his palms resting against the edge of the table as he leans forward in a push-up position. "Why, Maura? What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

I look down at the tempting third slice of pizza that Zack must have slipped onto my plate at some point. I've shredded the crust into little b.a.l.l.s of dough. A nervous habit. d.a.m.n it. I'm giving myself away. I am nervous. And sad. And I just want to crawl across the table and land in Zack's arms and have him wrap me up in a tight hug and swallow me with his kiss. Is that too freaking much to ask?

"I was trying to forget." It's honest at least.

His brow furrows, his blue eyes flas.h.i.+ng with a moment of confusion. "Adrian." He says it on a breath, Aid's name floating around my ears and settling on my shoulders like a weight.

I shake my head. "Not tonight."

A moment of anger blazes across the twist of his lips before he presses them together in a flat line. "A guy?"

I shake my head again.

Zack sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. I'm exasperating him. I nearly giggle but even in my drunken haze, I know when not to ruin a moment. And this moment, with Zack's unyielding gaze, his hunched shoulders rolling toward me, his entire being focused on me, is too good of a moment to ruin. He cares so much I almost believe in him.

Can I?

"Tell me, Maura." His voice is like steel and I fight off another s.h.i.+ver. "Tell me the truth, and I'll tell you a secret. One I've never told anyone. One I even struggle to admit to myself. One I'm so scared to admit to you because I think you'll hate me for it."

Well d.a.m.n. Now I'm just intrigued. And he knows it. He knows he's won. Of course I'm' going to tell him just so I can hear his own dark and twisted. Just so I can know he's even a little like me. Just so I can be pulled farther into his...o...b..t. "I could never hate you, Zack."

"Tell me."

"My baby," I whisper.

His eyes soften immediately, and I can tell that although it wasn't the response he was expecting, he understands everything. He snakes his hands over mine, wrapping my fingers in his, resting on the table top.

"I lost my baby. And now I think I'm lost." I shake my head as tears threaten to spill over my eyelids. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, hoping to keep them at bay. "I can't seem to pull myself together."

Suddenly, Zack's beside me, his warm thigh pressed next to mine, his arm resting across my shoulder, his hand pulling me into his side. I rest my head on his shoulder and it feels so freaking nice and warm and safe I never want to move again.

"I know, baby," he whispers in my ear. "I know you're overwhelmed and struggling now, but, Maura..." he pauses until I turn my head a smidge to look at him "...you're the strongest woman I know. You're tough and resilient and incredibly determined. You will get through this."

"I don't have any purpose now." That's the real issue. My only purpose, the only reason worth living for, was ripped away from me. And now I don't even care if I get up in the morning. But I don't tell him that. The naked truth of it all is just too painful to hear out loud.

"Of course you do." He hugs me tighter, his lips brus.h.i.+ng against the top of my head. And I freaking swoon. Literally.

I shake my head deeper into the crook where his neck meets his shoulder. He smells like soap and mint and sleep.

"It may not seem that way now," Zack continues, wrapping strands of my hair around his knuckles as his fingertips continue to graze my upper arm. "Now it feels like you can't get your feet under you. It's like one wave after the next just keeps knocking you down and when you try to get back up, the next wave is already coming at you. I get it. Adrian's death was f.u.c.king hard. It was the worst possible thing that could have happened. But then your friends left. They're all on some exciting journey that you're not a part of and so you feel left behind. And now this happened. But, Maura, this is life. You can't always be on the top of the Ferris wheel. Disconnected from everything because you're on top of the world. Sometimes you're on the bottom, right in the mess and muck of it all. But the Ferris wheel will keep turning and time will pa.s.s and one day, maybe even sometime soon, you'll be back on your way again. You got me?"

My eyes feel heavy as his soothing voice, his gentle caress, lulls me toward sleep. But his words are a stark reality I've been avoiding for too long. So I nod into him and agree. I do understand what he's saying. He's saying the words I've been denying myself for so long.

Just gotta keep on treading water 'til the waves calm down.

Chapter Forty-Five.

Zack

I know Maura heard me because her body stiffened at my words before relaxing again into my side. I also know she's nearly asleep. Poor girl. Tomorrow is going to be rough. It sucks she's hurting as hard as she is, but she also has to start getting her life back on track. Tough love sucks.

"Hey ..." I nudge her before she can doze off. "Let's get you back to your dorm."

"'Kay," she agrees sleepily, sitting up slowly.

I squeeze her hand briefly before sliding out of the booth and pulling her up next to me. I know I need to stop touching her, but I can't. As if some invisible thread is tangling me around her, I just want to be connected to her somehow. Her scent envelops me, even under the smoke of the bar and the sticky sweet rum on her breath, I can almost taste the spicy bite of Maura. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her back into my side as we leave Sal's. She fits perfectly.

It's cold when we hit the street, the icy wind whipping at our faces, clawing at our bare hands. "Here." I wrap my scarf around her neck and pull it up to cover her mouth. I don't know how she doesn't have frostbite, or hypothermia, in that tiny skirt.

"Thanks." She snuggles deeper into my side as we walk in the direction of McShain. "So ..." She breathes out, looking up at me through thick, black lashes. "What's your big secret?"

f.u.c.k. I was hoping she wouldn't remember that part of our conversation. I guess she's not as drunk as I thought. Or she's already sobering up. I watch her for a moment, try to etch her face in this moment and commit it to my memory. Because I'm sure after I tell her that I'm responsible for Adrian's death, she's never going to speak to me again, never mind look at me like she is right now: her eyes burning with curiosity, s.h.i.+ny with gratefulness, full of trust.

"You can tell me," she presses. "I won't, like, blow up your spot or anything."

I cough back a laugh. That's the last thing I'm worried about. I only care about what she's going to think, how she's going to feel, how she's going to react. I take a deep breath. Moment of truth. Will telling her be a relief for me? Some confession-style truth that clears my conscience? Or will the hurt I cause her make me feel worse? Is it selfish to tell her? Is it cowardly not to?

"Maura." My voice rasps like sandpaper. f.u.c.k, I'm nervous. "When Aid died, he..." her eyes widen at the mention of his name "...he was taking pills. Prescription painkillers."

"I know. He got Hector to hook him up that afternoon."

My brow furrows. "Hector?"

She waves a hand dismissively. "A guy we grew up with."

"Oh." I didn't know that. How didn't I know that?

"Why? Did you think I didn't know that?"

"No, I, I just think I'm the one who got him hooked to begin with," I tell her, looking straight into her beautiful, deep, endless eyes. My dad always said you need to look someone in the eyes when you tell the truth, when you hold the power to destroy a part of them. It's the way a man should act, should take responsibility, should stand up and do the right thing. And so I see as confusion, horror, hurt, and betrayal flood Maura's eyes.

"What are you talking about?" she spits angrily, taking a step away from me, and stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. "You gave him pills?" She pushes me in the chest. "When?"

I stop walking and watch her, hoping she'll deck me but knowing she won't. She's too confused. Too hurt.

"I never gave him pills. But I had my own prescription for Vicodin from a knee surgery I had. It had a few refills on it. And then suddenly I was short two refills. I couldn't remember filling it but figured I was overthinking it. Things were so crazy at the start of last season with extra practices and cla.s.ses, I figured I must have forgotten filling it or misplaced the bottle or something. But then Adrian, he seemed to be talking about back pain a lot. He started acting differently."

"Go on." Maura circles her hand at me to continue.

"I can't explain exactly what was off; he just wasn't himself. I kept asking him about his back, and he said he was good, he got help for it. So I thought he was seeing a physical therapist, doing extra stretches, getting ma.s.sages, whatever. But the morning he died, I found a bottle on his desk for a Vicodin prescription. In my name. And I blew up at him, confronted him about the whole thing. I was p.i.s.sed at him, telling him he was f.u.c.king up his future, told him I cancelled the remaining refills. And he left with me cursing him out; he walked out of the house. And he never came home."

"Oh G.o.d." Maura covers her mouth with her hand. "He stole from you!"

"Maura, I killed him."

She laughs suddenly, a high and desperate sound erupting the quiet air like a gun shot. "He stole from you, lied to you, and got more pills from another source when he knew you wouldn't let him get away with it."

"But I did. I did let him get away with it. What aren't you getting here?" Anger tinges my words as she fails to grasp what I'm telling her. How many times will she make me say it? "I'm responsible for his death! If he didn't find my bottle of Vicodin, if I'd been more careful with remembering the amount of refills I had left, if I'd followed up with the pharmacist, he'd still be here! He wouldn't have gone to Hector or whomever. I could have helped him get real help. I was just too scared, too G.o.d d.a.m.n cowardly to confront my best friend and accuse him of doing something like that! And then when I did, he f.u.c.king died!" I'm yelling now, my hands gesturing wildly, my voice carrying in the darkness.

"No." Maura shakes her head, her eyes dark and clear. "That's bulls.h.i.+t, Zack. You were his best friend. And he deceived you. You have no responsibility in that. If they weren't your pills, they would have been someone else's. h.e.l.l, he could have been stealing pills from one of my uncle's medicine cabinets, from other guys on the team, buying them off cla.s.smates, and just keeping them in the bottle with your name on it. You're not responsible for his addiction, his weakness. He was wrong." She starts to shake with anger, with sadness, as the first sobs erupt from her chest like a volcano. She's breathing heavily, and I can't not reach forward to pull her into my chest. "G.o.d, I'm so angry with him. And I hate that. I hate feeling guilty and terrible for being angry with a dead person. Why would he do something so stupid? Why wouldn't he tell me? I'm his twin for G.o.d's sake. We told each other everything!"

I hold her while she cries, my hands brus.h.i.+ng gently through her long hair. "Maura, I didn't tell you this to make you angry. I told you so you would understand, would know, the truth. About what happened. And my role in it."

She shakes her head. "It's not your fault, Zack." Sniffling into my hoodie for a few more moments, she suddenly pulls back and looks up at me, her eyes sharp, her face severe. "Oh my G.o.d."

"What?"

"That's is, isn't it?"

"What are you talking about? What's it?"

"That's why you're hanging out with me. Because you feel guilty. Because you feel bad for me, Adrian's pitiful sister who can't get past his death. You're trying to a.s.suage the guilt you feel. It's not about me at all. It's about you." She pushes off my forearms forcefully, spinning on her heel and walking away from me.

Is she kidding me? It's always been about her. And what I feel for her. If anything, spending time with her makes me feel worse for my role in Adrian's death, not better. My momentary relief at her not hating me disappears with her misinterpreting my intentions all along. "Maura!" I call out, hoping she will stop so I can explain all of that.

"f.u.c.k off, Zack." She flips me the bird without turning around.

How did this go so far off track?

Chapter Forty-Six.

Maura