Cate

After Amari and Nat left the city, I called up Zac to initiate the talk I had been dreading for days. Amari was right. I needed more time and more space to clear my head and focus on me. I hoped Zac would be able to understand. I knew how much he relied on our talks to center his moods.

Would he fall apart again once I took a step back?

Guilt bloomed in me, but I didn't lean into it as my thumb scrolled down my list of contacts and tapped on Zac's name.

Zac picked up on the second ring, and, to make matters worse, he seemed so happy to hear from me. "Hey, birthday girl! Did you like the present I sent you?"

His voice sounded deeper on the line. More manly, less boyish. It affected me, making butterflies flutter in my stomach, even while my heart twisted over his sweetness and enthusiasm, knowing that there would be nothing easy or joyful about the chat we were about to have.

"I haven't had a chance to open it yet."

"No?"

I could sense the disappointment from him even through the phone. I attempted to stay the course, which made me come off slightly bitchier than intended, "Yeah, Amari and Nat flew down to DC to surprise me for my birthday, so I've been really busy with them."

"Oh, uh, that's awesome. You guys have a good time?"

"Yeah, it was a lot of fun."

"Maybe, next time, I could, you know, fly down, too? The more, the merrier, right?"

I didn't respond to his not-so-subtle request and decided to get straight to the point, "Hey, Zac?"

"What's up?"

There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

I gulped, scared that I might chicken out halfway before I said my piece. "I—"

"Yes?"

Hurriedly, I began, "So, um, school is gonna get pretty crazy this semester."

Zac laughed, "Only for an overachiever like you, Cate. The rest of us are cruising on senioritis."

"I'm being serious, Zac."

"Are you stressing out?" he inquired gently. "Because I know you can handle it. You're, like, a goddamn super woman. You can handle anything."

Why was he being so goddamn sweet?

It only made what I wanted to say that much harder. "Thanks, but it's not the stress from school that's bothering me..."

"What's wrong, then?"

I huffed in exasperation, more at myself than Zac, for struggling so much to express how I actually felt. "What I'm trying to say is that—"

"Uh-huh?"

"I might need some space."

"Wait, what?"

"I'm getting overwhelmed. I feel, like, I'm spreading myself too thin between school and family and friends—"

Zac interrupted, "Friends... like me?"

I took a deep breath and mumbled, "Not only you—"

Hoarsely, he muttered, "Fuck."

I heard the hurt in his voice right away, and it made me feel like shit.

I quickly tried to remedy the situation. "Like I said, it's not only because of you. It's a combination of everything. School. Graduation. College. My dad's treatments. You know... life."

"Mm-hmm, yeah, sure."

Zac didn't sound convinced. Yet, he still offered in gracious tones, "I don't want you to feel this way, Cate. Tell me what I can do to make things easier for you."

Again, he was being so goddamn understanding. My resolve faltered as I replied, "Maybe... we can still talk. Just not every day?"

There was a long, painful pause on the line before Zac responded in overbright tones, "I totally get it. You have your own life to live. I-I apologize if I overstepped on your time. I won't bother you as much anymore."

God, his response made me feel like a bitch.

Was I being too harsh?

"It's not like that," I insisted, "you and I are friends, no matter what, okay?"

"Of course," he agreed, "no matter what."

"I'm here for you, always, but we gotta level up after graduation. It's gonna be such a huge turning point in our lives. I dunno where we'll end up for college, but, after the summer, I need to be hyper-focused, especially if I get into a ballbuster of a school like Stanford. I wanna put in my all during my first semester as a freshman."

Zac fell silent on the other end of the line again before muttering a few seconds later, "I hear what you're saying."

"You do?"

He affirmed, "I do."

"Okay..."

For some reason, Zac's calm acceptance made me nervous. I'd been expecting him to have a much more intense reaction. In low, quiet tones, he said, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna stand in the way of your success. The last thing I wanna do is hold you back."

Did I sense a trace of bitterness in his tone?

Or was it sadness?

I attempted to address it, "You're not in my way, and you're not holding me back. This is about my issues. Not yours. I can't do anything properly on an empty tank, you know? I just need some time to recharge and refocus."

Zac assured me, "I get it. 100%. I mean, I'm not gonna lie, I'm scared that college might hijack all of your time, and you'll forget all about me—"

He sounded crestfallen.

A wave of guilt washed over me, and I nearly caved to the force of it.

I panicked, "I'm never going to forget about you, Zac. I couldn't even if I wanted to—"

"But I know you're right."

I was?

I almost stuttered, "You agree with me?"

"I do."

He did?

"You do your thing, and I'll do mine. I think... I'm gonna try therapy, for real this time, like you suggested, once I get to college."

I gasped, "What? No way! That's amazing."

Yet, a shadow of doubt flickered in me.

Did Zac really feel this way?

Or was he only saying these things to appease me?

After all, he had been so resistant to therapy for so long.

"Yeah, no offense to Dr. Jalloh, but I don't think she's the right person to help me sort through my shit. I'm gonna find a new shrink. Someone who actually gets me."

He seemed serious.

Genuine.

I felt cautiously optimistic to see him reach this point.

I chose to believe in his intentions. "I'm proud of you, Zac."

"Yeah?"

I nodded even though he couldn't see me over the phone. "You should be proud, too. You've come such a long way. I—"

I was about to offer my help in researching therapists near the UCLA and Berkeley area when I realized that it would be a terrible idea. My overly hands-on attitude was what got us into this mess in the first place.

Distance, I reminded myself. I needed to keep my distance, and let Zac handle his own shit. Easier said than done, though. Old habits die hard.

The words continued to tumble out against my better judgment, "I can help you look into some therapists if you want—"

"No, no," he immediately interjected, "you've already done enough for me, Cate. I wanna do this on my own."

Damn.

I wanna do this on my own.

His declaration did something to me. My heart yearned once more for something out of reach. Never had I respected Zac more. Never had I wanted him more. Remorse pummeled into me like the stormy waters against the shore. I barely withstood the urge to take back everything I said and revert back to the way things were with Zac, as detrimental as it may be. I didn't want to let go. I didn't want to lose him. "Oh, Zac..."

Luckily, he stayed strong for both of us.

"You deserve the world, Cate," he whispered, "if I can't give it to you right now, then I gotta do everything possible to help you to get out there and conquer that shit for yourself. I don't want you to worry about me anymore, okay? Focus on what you want in life, and, whenever you find it, grab on tight and never let go."

My heart melted at the earnestness in his voice. Zac was still struggling with depression. I knew his mind and heart were still a mess in regards to his dad. His selflessness and strength had a profound effect on me. It made me want to smile and weep all at once.

"Shit," I mumbled with a weak chuckle, "you're gonna make me cry."

"I only wanna make you smile."

"That's so fucking cheesy."

"Whatever. You love my cheesy shit."

Zac got me there. It was true, I loved him, I'd always love him, but I needed to keep those feelings locked away, at least, for the time being.

I wondered if it would ever be safe to let them out again?

"Even though we're not together anymore," I mumbled, "it's still you and me against the world, okay?"

He returned without missing a beat, "Forever and always.

Our promise to each other was taking on a whole new meaning.

"We're gonna be unstoppable."

"For sure."

Zac and I kept dragging out our back-and-forth banter. There was nothing left to discuss. Nothing of actual importance, anyway, but neither of us were ready to say goodbye.

"Hey, Cate?"

"Hmm?"

"Where do you think we'll be a month from now?"

I laughed quietly. "Probably stressing about finals and graduation."

He chuckled, too, and then followed up with another question, "What about a year from now?"

"I dunno," I answered, "but I hope we'll both be in a better place."

So we can be together again.

"Me, too," he murmured.

Our conversation soon ended on this note. It was neither bitter nor sweet, falling somewhere in between.

Over the next few days, however, shit definitely got worse before it got better. We didn't speak for a week, not a single call, Snap, or text, which was unheard of for us. My heart went to pieces. My mind became a mess.

Because, like a hypocrite, I found myself missing Zac.

So fucking much.

I hoped Zac was having a better time dealing with our new sense of disconnect.

Life wasn't all terrible, though.

At my lowest point, the universe gifted me with an unexpected surprise: My dad went into remission.

To celebrate the success of his painstaking year and a half of chemo, Andrea gathered all of us to see the national tree near the White House. It felt weird for Bea, Trick, and I to engage in something so festive and wholesome with our dad, but Andrea insisted on our participation. My stepmom wasn't pushy, but she wielded a quiet authority about her. It was strong enough to nudge each of us out of our toxic comfort zones, including my dad.

No, scratch that, especially my dad.

I didn't think it was fucking possible, but the man seemed to genuinely respect my stepmom's advice and opinions. She was too calm and logical to argue with most of the time, anyway. My relationship with my dad was still strained, but seeing him with Andrea helped me perceive him in a different light.

Contrary to popular belief, the man actually possessed a heart.

On Christmas Eve, all five of us strolled down the Pathway of Peace towards the national tree. It was a blue spruce, standing over seventy feet tall, decked out in twinkling white and yellow lights. Cold wintry air nipped at my nose. I wasn't one to get swept up in the holidays, but there was something quietly magical in the air. My thoughts turned inward. My love life might be a tragedy, but my friends were a blessing. My family was becoming a blessing, too. It seemed greedy to expect peace in every area of my life.

As I stood there next to my dad, Andrea, Bea, and Trick, all wrapped up in our scarves and mittens and puffy down jackets, a feeling of fulfillment settled over me.

This was good enough for now. I could be content with this.

Toward the end of December, early decision admissions results also started rolling out, and more good news came my way.

I got into UCLA and Berkeley.

I got into Stanford.

I also got into Georgetown.

Once the adrenaline from my excitement settled, I considered my options carefully, and, believe it or not, I found myself leaning towards Georgetown over all the others.

According to Andrea, Georgetown boasted a stellar Department of Government that would set me up with all the right connections to pursue a career in law and politics. Not to mention, the university was located in the heart of DC. I would have access to everything the city had to offer in terms of its proximity to the national government and the politicians who ran our country. I wanted to fight on behalf of the Lily's of the world, and I was beginning to feel as though Georgetown might better equip me for that battle over Stanford.

Then, Zac texted me, and my decision wavered again: yo i got into berkeley

Berkeley was only an hour's drive away from Stanford while Georgetown was hours away by plane. A part of me wanted to choose Stanford for Zac.

This became the only small, tiny, insignificant conflict that held me back, and I hated myself for being so weak.