When he doesn’t answer, I take a step back, needing to get a bit of space to breathe.
“Don’t go. Please,” he says, reaching out to grab my hand and pull me closer.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my head swimming with confusion as his touch sets my skin alive, and I’m instantly back in that van, with my body screaming for him.
“I’m living in the moment.”
“Living in the moment?”
“Yes. I’m living in this moment here, right now, with you. It’s much more simple that way.”
“Is it? Because I’m confused as hell. I waited for you. I looked for you. Then I figured you didn’t want me. That you were just like all the other boys who said one thing when they really meant another.”
“No,” he stresses, his voice filled with a painful emotion that causes my chest to ache. “That couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s just all really complicated, Evie. I don’t know what to do here. I have absolutely nothing to offer you.”
“Not even your time? Not even a phone call?”
He turns away and looks down the street, pushing his sunglasses up his nose as he presses his lips together, his whole demeanour telling me that he’s struggling. That there’s so much he isn’t saying.
“I don’t know what to tell you. It’s…”
“It’s complicated. I get it,” I interject, pulling away from him and taking back that distance back between our bodies. My hand feels empty without his touch and every fibre of my being wants to move close again and just live in the moment like he says. But this is all too confusing for me. I just wish I knew something about what was going on with him. Maybe then I could understand. “Why are you here anyway, Zac? Are you picking kids up?” I ask suddenly, nodding my head toward the primary school in front of us, as I consider that he may have a kid and that’s what his problem is.
“Yes. My younger brothers and my little sister.”
“So there’s five children in your family?”
He nods, his body relaxing a little now that I’m not demanding answers. “Seven if you count my stepbrother and sister. But they always lived with their mother.”
“They’re the ones you used to hang around with at school?”
He gives me a look that is somewhere between amused and impressed and studies my face for a moment before he speaks. “I didn’t think you knew who I was at school.”
“Of course I remember you. I remember everyone. I just didn’t talk to anyone after…” I shake my head, not really wanting to bring up the whole slut shaming fun that seemed to be the favourite past time of so many of our classmates.
His features soften and he reaches out and takes my hand again, pulling me closer, confusing me more. Emotion surges through me. I just don’t know which one it is, and my mind spins as he focuses on our joined hands, staying quiet although it’s as if I can hear him thinking. And I wonder if he pities me.
“It’s funny,” he says finally. “I remember you from school. You seemed so untouchable and above all the shit they dished out. I remember wishing I could be like that. I wished I could walk away and ignore them. I wanted to have your strength. But I’m not sure it’s in me. When I left, I didn’t see you anywhere and I missed that. Then I saw you out at Londonderry and all of a sudden, you’re everywhere I look. Even when it isn’t really you.”
“I wish I could say the same about you. I remember an angry boy who fought all the time and then suddenly disappeared. It doesn’t seem like much has changed,” I respond, sliding my hand out of his. He’s been caressing my palm and each stroke has been an ache in my heart. For a moment, we look at each other and I wish I could see his eyes properly. But I can only see the outline of them behind his aviator sunglasses as he leans casually up against the school fencing in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
I change the subject again to break the emotional silence. “So why did you leave school, anyway?”
Wrinkling his nose slightly, he looks away before he answers. “Got into one fight too many. But that’s OK. School wasn’t really for me. In the end, I decided to work and help out at home instead.”
“So, you were kicked out of school?”
“Just stupid guy stuff.”
He drops his gaze and goes quiet for a moment and my mind rushes for something else to say. I feel as though I need to keep him talking or this ‘moment’ will be over.
“So, where are you fighting now? I went out to Londonderry again. But it was just a party. Nothing fun.”
“You don’t like parties?” he asks, avoiding my question, pushing his glasses higher up his nose as he returns his gaze to me.
“Why would I want to party with a bunch of fuckwits who don’t even like me?” I state, letting my usual bluntness spill out of my mouth.
Letting out a chuckle, he nods. “True. I’m not much into parties either. So what were you doing out there–looking for me?”
“Yeah. Like the dumbass I am.”
A grin plays on the corner of his mouth, and I wonder if I’m just making a fool of myself. I’ve spent a month thinking about him like a groupie with a crush on a star, which isn’t normal for me. I’ve been around boys and fighting all my life so I’m not awed by someone with skills – hell, I have skills myself. I’m just…It’s stupid saying it, but I’m attracted to him, like incredibly attracted to him and since I’ve never done this flirting thing before, I have no idea what I’m doing here. I’m in uncharted territory and my mind is moving faster than I can sift through my thoughts.
“You’re not a dumbass, Evie.”
“Well, I feel like one.”
“You shouldn’t. I like that you went out to see me fight. You were the only one who wasn’t yelling the last time.”
“You didn’t seem like you needed to be yelled at.”
He slowly nods and a smile spreads across his lips as he glances down at the phone in his hands.
“You know, since then I keep thinking that I see you in the crowd.”
“Is that why you came to my house that night?”
“Honestly, I don’t know why I went to your house. I just got back from the fight and I was wound up and before I knew it, I was in front of your house, and I had your number so I called…”
“How did you get my number anyway?”
He shakes his head and frowns. “I really don’t remember. I remember it was when we were still at school together.”
“Maybe it was for a group project or something?” I offer, trying to wrack my brain to remember a time when I shared my number for some reason and then it dawns on me. “The bathroom wall?” He looks down and I know I’m right. “So you were calling me for a ‘good time’?” I challenge him, annoyed that that’s the reason he has my number.
“No. I don’t know why I saved your number. Actually, I do. But it wasn’t because of that.”
“Then why was it?”
Once again, he studies my face for a moment before he answers. It’s like he’s being really careful about what he says and I wish he’d just say whatever is on his mind because his assessing stare is making me feel self-conscious.
“Because I altered the number so many times that eventually, I memorised it. It’s not in my phone. I just remember it and I tried it on the off chance it was still the same.”
“You did what?”
“I used to alter your number when the guys wrote it on the wall. I’d change the zero to an eight or the one into a four.”
“Why?”
His hand moves up and cups the back of his neck as he gives me a sheepish grin. “I…um, I used to watch you–at school…I had a thing for you, and I hated the way the guys talked about you.”
“You watched me?”
“It sounds really creepy now that I’m saying it, but yeah, I used to watch you. But I didn’t think you ever really saw me. So when I left, I tried to forget about you, then, out at Londonderry, there you were, watching me the way I always watched you and…”
“And?”
“And it made me feel invincible.” He takes off his glasses and shows me his blue eyes. One is swollen and half closed from a recent fight and my hand twitches with the urge to reach out and touch him. But I stay still, listening as he fills his one good eye with an abundance of sincerity that shows me he’s conflicted right now. Once again, I jump on the Zac Rivers Rollercoaster of Confusion but I want to know him, so I stay, ready to listen.
“What do you want from me, Zac? I’m here. I’m listening. If you want me to go away and leave you alone to deal with whatever you need to deal with, I’ll go. But if you don’t, just give me the word and I’m there. Just tell me what to do.”
He closes his eyes before he responds. “You don’t want this, Evie.”
I take his hand and hold it between mine. “Yes. I do.”
His eyes open again and I’m hit in the chest with the intensity of his gaze as he answers. “What I want, Evie, is to look out at the crowd and see you there, watching me when I fight. And…and I want more from you. Shit, Evie, I’ve always wanted more from you. But my life right now…it’s so fucking messed up, and I can’t promise you anything…even though I want to…”
“OK,” I whisper, pressing my lips together as that emotional rollercoaster plummets to the bottom of a peak and travels a very slow and steady flat until it ends,and I understand exactly where I stand with Zac Rivers.
“OK?”
“OK, I’ll live in the moment with you.”
“What are…what are you agreeing to?”
“I’m agreeing to watch you fight. To listen to you talk. To spend whatever time we have, when you have it.”
I want more from you. Shit, Evie, I’ve always wanted more from you… his words echo in my mind. I want more from him too. So. Much. More. I want the world from him. But I’m mature enough to understand that pushing him won’t make anything happen. Sometimes, when you want something, you just have to be patient.
He slides his glasses back onto his face and sighs, his shoulders slouching a little as if he thinks I’m not getting what he’s trying to tell me. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking. I’m telling,” I counter.
He reaches out and cups my cheek, pressing his forehead against mine for a moment. “You don’t know how much I want to say yes to this – to you. But I can’t. This isn’t fair on you.”
“It’s my life, Zac. I get to choose.”
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to step away from him, even though all I really want to do is kiss him.
“My life won’t always be like this.”
“Let’s just take it moment to moment.”
Our eyes lock, and I can feel what’s between us, surging in the air, back and forth, connecting us. It’s overwhelming and just makes this whole interaction so much harder.
I hear the bell ring, signalling the end of school, and I glance towards the gate, hearing the distant sound of squealing kids exiting their classrooms.
“I’d better go,” I say, stepping away and feeling a bit like a chump, but feeling as though I don’t have much choice. I’m going crazy thinking about him and if all I can do is watch him, like he once watched me, then so be it. “Call me and I’ll watch your next fight.”
“Can I call you for other things?” he asks, attempting to lighten the mood a little as he takes it back.
I grin. “I’ll see you around Steel Fist,” I say, stepping away as I see Rose and Craig at the gate looking around for their ride home.
“It’s ‘The Hammer’ now.”
“Like the hulk, huh?”
He lets out a chuckle. “Something like that.”
“Well then, I’ll see you, The Hammer – the next time we get a moment.”
“You can count on it.”
Pressing my lips together, I begin to step away then stop in my tracks and turn back around needing to make one thing very clear. “Oh and Zac – in case you’re wondering, I’m not what they say I am.”
“What do they say you are?”
I shrug. “Oh, you know – slut, whore, thief, druggy – take your pick.”
“I know that, Evie. I never thought you were.”
Nodding, I turn away again to go and collect Keith and Annalise, and with every step, I begin to get that hollow feeling in my stomach again.
God, when did I become this girl?
Thirteen
Zac
“Why are you in such a foul mood?” Meg asks, interrupting me as I take my frustration over this afternoon’s conversation with Evie out on the bag. I can’t express how much I wanted to wrap my arms around her and kiss her until we couldn’t breathe. How much I just wanted to grab a hold of her and keep her by my side. She is the one girl I’ve been interested in. Always. And I have never had the confidence to approach her until I saw her out at Londonderry. The shit thing is, I should have just kept my distance. But I saw an opportunity, and I kissed her without thinking. And that’s the problem; I can’t stop thinking about her. Jason keeps telling me to get her out of my head because she’s messing up my focus. And if Meg had any clue how much contact I’ve actually had with her, she’d throw a fit.
Jesus, why does this have to be so hard? And why can’t I just walk away from Evie? Why does it have to feel like I need her around me to take a full breath? I could have ended it today. I should’ve let her walk away, but I couldn’t, and selfishly, I allowed her to agree to wait around for the moments. And how many of them are there going to be? How are we going to be happy with moments when everything between us seems so much bigger than a moment could contain?
“I’m fine, Meg. Just leave me the fuck alone.”
I pummel the bag, twisting at my waist and ignoring every ache and pain in my body that’s left over from the amount of fighting I’ve done lately. Why the fuck did I tell her all that stuff? I basically just blurted out that I’m stalking her – which isn’t true. Sure, I’ve always watched her whenever I saw her, and there have been a few times lately when I’ve sat outside her family’s gym knowing she’s in there, arguing with myself about why I can’t go inside. But I don’t go peering into any fucking windows or anything. I just…when she’s around me, it’s like I need her. I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s more than a want. Because what I want, is to be able to control my feelings and make the right decisions for Meg, the kids and me. But then Yvonne Rhodes enters the picture and my urge to see her is so great, that I struggle to get through the day without seeing her just once. God, I do sound like a bloody stalker.
“Fuck!” I growl, slamming both fists into the bag at the same time. Then, as the bag stalls, I press my head against the rough fabric, squeezing my eyes tight as I replay everything from the moment she came back into my life.
“Zac. Talk to me. Please,” Meg implores quietly from beside me.
Leaving my head pressed up against the bag, I stay where I am and shake my head, feeling out of control and defeated. “It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?” I say, tears burning the back of my eyes as I finally admit what I’ve known all along.
“Yeah. I think so,” she whispers, placing her palm to the bare skin on my back, her cool touch soothing me slightly.
“I hate them, Meg. I hate them so fucking much.”
“I do too. I hate that she left us, and I hate what Charlie did to you because of it.” She runs her fingertips over the various scars on my back, years worth, all different shapes and sizes, depending on what was around at the time he was pissed.
“Better me than you. Better me than the little ones.”
“It shouldn’t have been anyone. Every single one of these scars is a secret we’ve had to keep, you know. Every single one is a lie we’ve told. I’m glad you did what you did to him.”
The image flashes in my mind, the primary colour of red. “Don’t talk about it, Meg.”
“But you saved us, Zac. I know it’s hard the way we are, but at least he’s gone now. It�
�s a struggle, but we’re better off.”
I stand up and meet her eyes, my own brimming with tears but I don’t give a fuck. This is all too much. My life is. Too. Much.
“But that’s the problem. He’s gone. And she’s gone. And there is no one but us.” I turn to the bag and give it a half-hearted punch, placing my hands on either side to still it again, staring at the ground as I talk. “She disconnected her phone, Meg. I’ve been lying about talking to her. I haven’t spoken to her in months.”
“I know that. I tried to call her too.”
I close my eyes again, the throbbing in my head and the aching in my chest, twist at my gut. “I don’t know what to do.” I lower myself to the concrete ground and sit with my elbows on my knees. I don’t have the energy to stand anymore.
Sitting down next to me, Meg continues. “Zac, what’s brought all this on? I’ve never believed she was coming back for us. I was just waiting for you to admit it to yourself and then tell you I told you so.”
“Thanks, Meg, you’re so sweet,” I deadpan, earning a smile from her but she goes on, being the voice of reason for the first time since we were left on our own almost a year ago.
“Well, I told you so. But, I want you to talk to me about what brought this on. You’ve always been so sure that everything will work out, and because of that – because of you, those kids in there are happy and healthy for the first time in their lives. No one was happy before, Zac, and I don’t think any of us really want her back. She was never good to us. She didn’t love us. Not like she loved herself. But you, Zac, you are the only person who’s ever cared enough to do whatever it takes to look after us. And I know I give you a hard time about it, but Zac, I don’t know where we’d be without you. You have to understand that.”
“Thanks,” I reply, genuinely this time, as I wipe at my eyes, sniffing back as I get a bit of control over my emotions.
“Any time, big brother. So, are you going to tell me what’s going on with you? You were fine when you left to get the kids from school…”
“I don’t know. I guess I just realised that things aren’t going to change.”
Drawn to Fight: Zac & Evie Page 9
