Left Behind(14)

I can’t hide my smile as I extend a pencil in his direction with only a nod and a grin.

Mr. Davis doesn’t waste any time beginning his lecture. Today we’re going to discuss the summer reading assignment, Wuthering Heights. He asks for a show of hands to see how many have actually read the book. Just about everyone raises their hands. Everyone except Zack. Somehow, it seems unlikely that every senior has done the summer reading. The reality is probably that Zack is the only one brave enough to admit he hasn’t.

I do my best to concentrate on the lecture, but my eyes keep wandering back to Zack. He’s seated across from me, but one seat up, so it’s easy for me to steal glances without being caught. He’s wearing jeans and a plain black t-shirt, dark sneakers…very simple, yet sexy at the same time. Only, it’s not the outfit that does it, it’s the way he wears it, fitting snugly across his wide shoulders, the sleeves yielding tightly to the thickness of his arms. Somehow it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to look good, or even knows that he does.

His sandy blonde hair is messy; it looks as if his idea of styling it might have been to run his fingers through it in frustration, daring it to move out of place. It’s longish, the back hitting almost to the collar of his shirt. He could probably use a cut, but the unstyled, just-out-of-bed look only adds to his sex appeal.

Instead of paying attention, he alternates between staring off into space and doodling something on the paper. I can’t distinguish if his lack of attention is from boredom with the teacher or distraction because of something else all together.

Realizing I’m spending way too much time watching someone I shouldn’t be focused on, I force my attention back to the teacher, deciding to write notes as he talks in order to occupy my eyes. But it doesn’t take long before my mind starts wandering again, seeing as I’ve read this story and analyzed it ad nauseum in my advanced English class last year. Of course, my eyes can’t help but follow my mind. Only this time, when I find myself staring, watching the boy who looks as distracted as I feel, Zack turns and catches me.

Crap.

My first reaction is to look away quickly, as though if I did it fast enough he wouldn’t think I was staring. Stupidly, I look up a few seconds later to see if he’s bought what I’m trying to pass off as a casual glance of chance, rather than stalkerish staring, and I find he’s staring back at me. Intently.

My eyes react automatically by looking away again, but they quickly make their way back, getting caught in his gaze. It’s just so direct and attentive. My heart speeds up and I feel my face heat with embarrassment as my eyes flicker back and forth to his, trying to decide what to do. Not nearly as uncomfortable with our direct stare, Zack’s still not turning away. No, instead, the corner of his mouth twitches toward a grin. He’s relishing my discomfort at being caught.

Luckily, the bell rings and Allie turns to talk to me, completely oblivious to the tension she is breaking. I grab my books and pack up quickly as she talks, needing to put some distance between me and the voiceless boy.

“We’re going to work on our project tonight, 6pm. I’ll pick you up so your Aunt doesn’t have to drive you. Text me your address,” Allie instructs and I agree.

I glance back in Zack’s direction, only to find his seat vacant. He’s disappeared as wordlessly as he arrived. Looking down, I find a folded-up note propped on my desk, Thanks for the pencil.





Chapter 17



Zack





This time tomorrow we’ll both be different. Tonight’s a night we’ll never forget. I can’t wait. XO Em. Sitting in my room, the post-it-note I’d found stuck to my dashboard the morning of the bonfire clutched in my hand, my mind wanders to Nikki today in class. The way she looked at me, her big green eyes and pale skin, skin that betrays her as it flushes at being caught. There’s just something about her that I’m drawn to, something that makes me smile when everything else around me only makes me angry.

Lost in thought for a few seconds, I grimace when I look down and see Emily’s handwriting. Guilt sickens me. I should be picturing Emily. I read the note for the thousandth time. This time tomorrow we’ll both be different. Tonight’s a night we’ll never forget. I can’t wait. XO Em. I shut my eyes and will my mind to see Emily. Nikki’s green eyes greet me.

Again. This time tomorrow we’ll both be different. Tonight’s a night we’ll never forget. I can’t wait. XO Em. Eyes closed tightly, I try to remember Emily on that last day — the last time she smiled, the last time she was happy. Instead, the curve of Nikki’s mouth fills my subconscious.

I hate myself. Again. This time tomorrow we’ll both be different. Tonight’s a night we’ll never forget. I can’t wait. XO Em. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. Again. This time tomorrow we’ll both be different. Tonight’s a night we’ll never forget. I can’t wait. XO Em. Twenty more tries are no more successful than my first attempt. My eyes jar open, leaving Nikki’s face behind. I shred the note into a hundred tiny pieces.

The door to my room creaks open loudly. My mother knocks softly even though she’s already opened the door. “Zack.”

I don’t respond.

“Sweetie.” Her tone is soft, pensive. I feel badly for making her walk on eggshells, but I don’t know how to get myself back to where I was. I’m not sure if I can ever go back. Too much has changed. I’ve changed.

She sits down next to me on the bed. I crumple the little yellow post-it pieces into my hand. Mom takes her hand and covers mine, the one clutching Emily’s note.

“I thought you were going to work on your English project tonight?”

“Changed my mind,” I say tersely. I don’t really feel like debating my social life, or lack thereof.

“Why?” Why the hell does she think? I don’t respond, not because I have nothing to say, but because she won’t like what she hears.

“Zack?” Her voice rises to that motherly tone. The one that’s a warning more than a question. I stare at her blankly, but she doesn’t back down.

“Go. You need to get out. You need to be around some friends. Work on your project. You always feel good around Keller. Go.”

Annoyed at her persistence, I stand. Wadding up the torn Post-It in my hand, I peg it at the garbage can in the corner of my room. I miss, but don’t bother to pick up the tiny, yellow pieces scattered all over the floor on my way out. I slam the door behind me.

***

With no destination in mind, I drive around aimlessly for more than an hour. It’s nearly nine when I arrive at The Grind, the coffee shop I was supposed to meet the group at. Allie’s red Volkswagen is parked right out front, the hood open as she and Keller peer into the engine. I pull over because, even though I choose to wallow in my own self pity, I’m not that big of a dick that I’d pass a friend who looks like they could use a hand.

“Zack,” Allie says as she sees me approach. “You’re about three hours late.” Unlike most everyone else around me, she’ll call me on my shit, instead of tiptoeing like I’m fragile and might break.

I smile and shake my head. “Thanks. I thought I was right on time,” I reply, equally sarcastic. “What’s going on?”

“It won’t start.”

“What happens when you turn the key?”

“Not much, it makes a click-click sound.” Keller shrugs.

“Turn it…let me hear.” Allie walks around to the driver’s side, gets in and tries to start it.

“It’s the starter.” Years of working on old cars with my dad, I’ve picked up on some of the common car repairs.

“That’s what my dad said.”

I nod. “Is he coming for you?”

“Yeah. But he’s coming straight from work and he’s got his little two-seater, divorced-on-the-prowl car, so I can’t give Nikki and Keller a ride home.”

“Nikki?” I look around.

“She just went inside to use the ladies room. Here she comes now.” Allie points just as Nikki walks through the front door and our eyes meet.

“I can give them a ride.”

“That would be great.”

Allie’s father pulls up in his two-seater Porsche just as Nikki makes her way back over to us. She smiles at me and I smile back.

“Did you call your Aunt already?” Keller asks.

She shakes her head no.

“Good. Zack’s going to give us a lift.”





Chapter 18



Nikki





Keller’s house is only a few blocks from The Grind. As we pull up, Zack hops out with Keller. The two exchange a few words I can’t hear, and then Zack opens the door to the back seat, offering his hand for me to get out. The other hand reaches forward and opens the front passenger door. He waits until I’m inside to close it, then jogs around to the other side.

His right hand on the gear shifter, for a second it looks like he’s going to drive, but then he changes his mind. Leaving the car in park, he turns to face me. Lifting one knee up onto the seat and twisting his body toward me, he slings one arm casually around the back of the seat. It’s just the two of us in the car now and suddenly the inside of the spacious car seems smaller. Maybe even a little warmer.