Zac

It's funny how the human body can keep breathing even when you feel dead inside. My heart was no longer in my chest. It was walking away from me in the shape of a beautiful hazel-eyed girl. Swarms of passengers and JFK airport personnel bustled all around, but I paid them no mind.

I only had eyes for her.

Anguish flooded my veins as I watched Caterina Donati move further and further away from me. My hands clenched to fists at my side. The muscles in my legs strained to run after her.

Somehow, though, I managed to stand my ground.

Barely.

The night before, Cate's betrayal unraveled every thread of trust I had wrapped around our relationship. For the past few months, it had been easy to dismiss my misgivings when they were simply doubts floating around my head. It was another thing altogether to catch her red-handed. At the time, her words had incensed me.

I'm sorry. I didn't want to keep anything from you, but...

But what?

Did she think I was too weak to handle the truth?

Or too fucking dumb to see through everyone's deceptions?

At the time, this anger drove me to sever ties with the beautiful hazel-eyed girl whom I had kept tucked inside my heart since I was twelve-years-old.

A suffocatingly, numbing void overtook me. I felt hollow as my gaze continued to follow Cate from a distance. I tried to memorize everything about her. The exact blackish-brown hue of her dark, shiny hair. The slightness of her form, which I knew to be a direct contrast to her ferociousness of spirit. The way she stood, tall and proud, as though nothing in the world could ever bring her to her knees. From a distance, I studied her obsessively. Longingly.

As Cate's queue continued to shuffle its way through the security checkpoint, not once did she look back in my direction. Not once did I manage to catch her eye. The disappointment hurt me in ways I couldn't put into words even though I no longer possessed the right to demand anything of her. We were still friends, but, already, I missed her. I felt as though I had destroyed the one amazingly good thing in my fucked-up life, and, now, I deserved to live with the consequences of my stupidity. I didn't return to my car until the other passengers in line completely obscured Cate from my sight.

With a broken heart, I drove home.

My stepdad and my mom greeted me at the door. Worry was etched into their faces. I brushed past them with a half-assed excuse about being tired and wanting to lie down for a bit. They didn't ask me any more questions. Thank God they let me go. I felt drained. Too drained to deal with any drama. I made a beeline for my room. I locked the door and flopped onto my bed in a heap of defeat and misery.

My break up with Cate hung over me like a dark cloud. Both eyes snapped shut as my mind replayed my surly, spiteful behavior from the night before. With a shudder of self-loathing, I relived every second of the hate and rage I had spewed at my babygirl.

I'm starting to realize that the only person I can trust is myself at this point.

Shame coiled through me like a toxic serpent.

You probably think of yourself as some kind of fucking martyr for suffering in silence this entire time.

To make matters worse, I couldn't seem to let go of Cate's cryptic warnings.

I'm taking the fucking gloves off now.

Her voice kept echoing through my conscience.

I know you started cutting, Zac, right before the accident.

Vague memories of the townhouse sparked within me

What you should be worried about is the reason why you started hurting yourself again. And whether or not you're really ready to hear the truth.

The flash drive seemed to be key here. There were probably some pretty hefty bombshells embedded on that stick. Bombshell evidence suggesting that my dad was likely guilty of his crimes.

Why else, as Cate suggested, would I have fallen into such a deep depression right before my accident?

Bile instantly rose in my throat as though my body knew it to be true. It sickened me. Then, another unsettling thought crossed my mind.

What about my car accident back in Wellesley?

Was it even a real accident?

Or had it been a cover up?

A hit job?

Or, God forbid, a suicide attempt?

Paranoia emerged in a cold sweat over my skin. Thick, weighty emotions that felt very much like terror filled my conscience. With every fiber of my being, I feared that maybe, just maybe, Cate had made the right call in dealing with our troubled past, and, perhaps, I had made the wrong one by pushing her away. It seemed she had been trying to protect me from myself, and I couldn't fault her for it because, at the end of the day, everyone knew that I was one fucked-up motherfucker.

Again, remorse shot through me. My fists tightened once more. I felt like punching the wall or something. To vent my intense frustration. To distract from the heartache of losing Cate. To atone for all the hurt I inflicted upon her.

Her eyes looked so sad when we parted ways at the airport. My final words to her had hovered between us like a question without answers.

I don't want you to go back to DC thinking that I don't care about you... okay?

I hoped she believed me. I meant every word with my whole fucking heart. With a sigh, I opened my eyes and stared listlessly at my bedroom ceiling.

Jesus Christ.

This whole situation was turning into such a fucking mess. As much as I wanted to charge ahead and find my way back to Cate as soon as possible, I couldn't seem to do it without first facing the demons from my past.

I was stuck. Trapped. I felt nowhere ready enough, brave enough, or stable enough to be a good enough boyfriend for a goddess like Cate. At this moment, I realized I had already kind of forgiven her for lying to me because, now that my mood had stabilized somewhat, I could kind of understand why she chose to keep her secrets. Her intentions were pure even though her execution fucking sucked.

As I brooded in bed, these murky, mixed-up feelings of fear and pride threatened to pull me under, but I refused to dragged down.

I forced myself to think positively.

I deserved peace of mind. I deserved the truth. I deserved control over my own life. A girl like Cate deserved a fucking beast—not a scared, little bitch—at her side.

I set my jaw.

The past had been erased along with my memories. The present was looking pretty bleak, but, at least, the future had yet to be written.

My mind boomeranged back to the Iris-Cowan Center. Maybe my therapy sessions with Dr. Jalloh hadn't been a complete waste of time, after all. Suddenly, my therapist's bullshit about living with my new normal began to resonate with me. Just a little. I clung to this small surge of determination. I used it to make a choice. Time to work on finding my new normal. At home and at school. I needed to reconnect with my family, my friends, my classmates, and my teachers.

I had to build up my real-life XP in order to take down the big boss in this fucked-up video game that had become my life. My queen was waiting for me at the very end of this game—not to save her, of course—but to rule alongside her. God knows Cate wasn't a patient girl. I needed to get my ass in gear. Once I leveled up, I intended to find my way back to her as soon as possible.

Our paths might diverge.

For now.

But not forever.