Summer: Day 7

Mack's POV:

The place reeked of cigarettes, alcohol, and musty air sick off it's own stank. Music was blaring in the background as college kids hung around loosely in the front yard, leaving the rest of the party inside to be discovered.

"This place is packed," I whisper, clinging closer to Zachariah.

He lets out a small laugh and wraps an arm around me. "Don't worry, I won't leave your side."

I roll my eyes at him. "Oh how sweet, thanks Romeo."

"Are you suggesting I die in the end?" he asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow that I see through my peripheral vision.

Laughing, I say, "That would mean I have to die in the end too, and I really don't want to end my life short when I haven't even lived to see eighteen yet."

"Wow," Zachariah mutters under his breath. "I'm dating a seventeen year old at twenty. Isn't that illegal?"

"I'm turning eighteen in a couple weeks, doofus." I nudge him in the ribs. "Besides, it's not like this is real anyways, or like we're getting physical."

Before he can say anything, we reach the front door where the music is too loud to interpret the words leaving his mouth. He pulls me closer to his body, tightening his grip so that I feel the pressure around my waist.

"Smile," he whispers in my ear, the same phrase he said to me last time.

I shrug as a grin appears on my face. "I am smiling, idiot."

Zachariah's chest vibrates from laughter. "Now I guess I should've told you this before, but there's gonna be some people from my high school class. Is that okay?"

"I don't care," I say over the music.

"Alright."

Corey emerges from the crowd of drunken losers and playboy womanizers. "Hey, welcome to my suite," he greets us, giving Zachariah a bro-shake and me a hug. "Thanks for coming tonight."

"How many people did you invite?" I ask. "The whole town?"

Corey shakes his head. "Very funny, sweetheart—"

Zachariah clears his throat.

"I mean," Corey rephrases, "Very funny, Mackenzie—"

"Mack," I correct him.

"Damn, you're still on about that?" he says to himself, shrugging his shoulders. "Anyways, it was an open-invite party. The word got around I guess, but there's some hot girls here so, eh?" Corey winks at Zachariah, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

"If you haven't gotten it down into your brain yet, I have a girlfriend." Zachariah gazes down at me with a smile that could cast a spell on just about anyone. "And she's not going anywhere any time soon."

"Right," Corey says with a smirk on his face. "I forgot how bad your case was for her."

"Shut up," Zachariah snaps.

"I'm only stating facts, Monty."

I tug at Zachariah's shirt before his anger issues get the best of him. "Can we get something to drink?"

"Sure," he says, nodding in the direction of the kitchen.

I grab his wrist but he is quick to shake away, slipping his hand into mine instead. He leads me to the kitchen, the least crowded room of them all, where he goes into the fridge to get me a coke. He caught on real fast.

"Thank you," I say as he hands me the can.

He nods, leaning up against the counter. "So what's up with you and Corey? I'm still trying to figure it out," he says with an observative expression on his face.

"That guy?" I laugh, pointing to Corey taking a line of shots in the dining room. "How would I know? He's your best friend after all."

Zachariah reaches over for the hair tie around my wrist. "Yeah, well obviously he doesn't know the difference between my things and the rest of the male population's things."

"Well if anything," I whisper, looking up into his blue heavens. "He always got your sloppy seconds, and you've never been 'serious' with anyone, so to him it looks like he's next in line."

"When did you get so smart?" he asks, both impressed and as if he was sending a small accusation my way.

"I've always been smart, Zachariah."

"Smartass."

"Jerk."

"Whatever."

"Whatever," I say, sticking my tongue out at him. I open my can of soda and take a swig, setting it on the counter next to me.

All of a sudden, Zachariah pulls me flush against his body, and I freeze as his eyes grow a shade darker and his eyes dilate. For a second I believe he's going to lean in and kiss me, but instead his lips reach down to my ears.

"Britney just walked in," he whispers, his breath tickling my skin.

Ah, Britney Hamilton.

Britney is Corey Hamilton's little sister. She's the queen bee of the school, head of the cheer squad, and thinks she has authority over everyone she lays her eyes on. And why? She doesn't deserve being admired for bullying people and making their lives a living hell. But she is—she's sickeningly adored with admiration for being a stuck up wannabe.

She has blonde hair like that of Corey's, doey-brown eyes that droop a little bit at the corners, and is well around five-foot-six. Her figure is almost perfect, her skin is lightly tanned, and her eyebrows are always on point. She's like a real-life barbie, only minus the plastic part—

Actually, now that I think of it, she's as fake and plastic as a barbie can get.

Being that her brother is now in college and on the football team, I'm sure her body count has more than doubled since last year. I mean, the fruit doesn't fall too far from the tree. Her brother is a player too.

"Is she gone?" I whisper back, looking up at him.

He shakes his head before resting his forehead against mine. "Nope, she's sending daggers your way right now."

"Let's give her something to watch then, yeah?" I say with a mischievous glint in my voice.

Zachariah's nose brushes against mine as I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning into him a little more. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't have worked up enough courage to play into this. However, Britney needs a reality check and ego makeover—like as soon as possible.

Going along with my movements, Zachariah grips my waist tighter as he leans in to kiss my left cheek, then my right cheek. As his lips graze the bridge of my nose, my knees become jelly and the only thing keeping me upright are his strong arms. Someone clears their throat from behind us before Zachariah plants a sweet kiss on my forehead.

"Are you done now?" Britney deadpans, glaring at me.

I let a small smirk find its way to my face. "Actually, we were just getting started. Would you like to watch?"

She lets out a small scream, crossing her arms and puffing out her chest in an attempt to display her A-cup. "I was actually wondering if Monty wanted to go upstairs—"

"Sorry, sis." I take a step towards her, unraveling myself from Zachariah. "But he doesn't want you, okay?"

She smiles behind me at Zachariah who was watching in amusement. "Of course he does."

"No, he doesn't," I emphasize, trying to look intimidating even though she has a few inches on me. "I hate to burst your little bubble and ruin your fantasy, but Zachariah doesn't want you, okay? He never has and never will."

A flick of anger and challenge develop in her brown eyes. "That wasn't what he was saying when we were in bed."

The room erupts with my laughter. "You have a lot of guts to bring that up." I turn around to glance at Zachariah who is still watching our every move, hearing our every word. Good, he can hear this too. "If I'm not mistaken, you were the girl Zachariah was sleeping with the night of junior prom?"

She doesn't answer, her face growing red.

"Silly me for asking, I know it was you. And I sure as hell saw things I wish I could forget, but—shall I continue?"

Still no answer.

"Right," I dismiss, letting my mouth cook with words. "To jog your memory, because I'm sure you've forgotten your hundreds of one-night-stands, when I walked in on you guys that night, Zachariah was the one who zipped up his pants and ran after me."

Her face grew a darker shade of red.

"He left your sorry ass in bed, sexually frustrated and unfinished, because he didn't want you. It wasn't worth the damn trouble." I cross my arms, standing as tall as I could. "But you know what? He saw that I was worth the trouble, so he ran after me. Over your dead body, he chose me. So I'm sorry, Barbie—but you need a reality check. Not everyone is in love with you. Not everyone adores you. And that's including my fucking boyfriend."

And at that, the palm of her hand finds my left cheek in a swift move.

I clear my throat, trying to act unfazed. "Are you done now?" Same question she asked me, only this time she has nothing to say back.

"You are one bitch, Mack," she says, looking me straight in the eyes.

I give her a ginger smile. "Nothing new, nothing old."

She lets out a frustrated scream. "God, Monty, you're so stupid for going after her. She's a whore who's only using you to get laid. I would've never done that, and you'll come back to finish what we started the minute she can't please you the way I did."

"Actually," he says monotonously. "I think she just gave your ego a check. She's good at that, isn't she?"

She was looking at him like he was a god of some sort. "I really thought you were different, Monty." A small tear escapes her eyes as she glares back at me. "And you, you'll pay for this."

I return her glare. "Try me, Barbie."

Her hand connects with my face one last time before she turns on her heels and stomps out of the kitchen. I fall back on the counter behind me and let out a sigh of relief. She took a lot of energy out of me. Her and her stupid brain.

Before I could do anything, or make a run for it in that matter, Zachariah has me caged in between his arms and the counter. "Mackenzie," he says in a low growl.

"Yes?"

"What the hell was that?"

I roll my eyes. "That was me telling her off."

He clenches his jaw, staring straight into my eyes. "I actually cared about her back then," he whispers, tugging at the hair tie on my wrist. "But then, when you walked into my room, she didn't matter. I cared about her, Mackenzie. And you ruined what I could've had with her, but I didn't blame you cause I knew deep down what you said was right."

"You didn't have to listen to me, you know." I look down at my wrist where his fingers snapped the rubberband in thought. "What I said that night was my own observations. You came to your own conclusions."

******

Flashback: The night of junior prom.

Though I wish I could forget, I remember everything that happened that night so vividly. It was junior prom, and since Kylar and I were freshman, we stayed in.

It was around eleven at night; the air cool from the spring breeze and the sky pitch black with only stars illuminating the sky. Kylar and I were under the impression Zachariah would crash at Corey's after-prom, so Kylar told me I could sleep in his brother's room. We had it planned out perfectly—I'd sleep in until morning and Kylar would set an alarm so I could get out of his room on time.

The plan went downhill before it could even go up.

I was a very oblivious fifteen year old—either that or I'm deaf—because the minute I turned the doorknob, I lost all the innocence I had.

Zachariah had Britney on her hands and knees while he gave it to her from behind. She was moaning his name and clawing at the bed sheets, but he looked rather distant in response; like he didn't care. Like he was just doing it for fun, but it wasn't fun to him.

My mouth dropped open, and I didn't bother tearing my eyes away from them. The only thing that was filtering through my mind was; Zachariah was sleeping with the school's slut, his best friend's little sister, and he's a manwhore who had the audacity to decide that it was okay to play around with girls' feelings. All that, just so he could feel good about himself. And that this was the guy I liked my whole life, the person I saved every single first for, that everything was reserved for him—despite the fact he didn't care to glance my way.

And it didn't take long for Zachariah to look at where I was standing in the doorway. That's when I broke, and that's when I crumbled. Because despite him never paying attention to me, his face dropped with guilt and he pulled away from her so fast, I thought he was embarrassed that I caught him in the act—but I soon found out he was far from embarrassed.

By the time he threw on a pair of sweatpants, my eyes were heavy with tears and I was already out the front door. He came running out to meet me, like he was running a marathon, and I kept walking—I was upset, frustrated, and broken all at once.

When his hand went to my shoulder in hopes I'd turn around, I shuddered and jerked away from him. "Go home, Zachariah," I said, choking on my own tears.

"Mackenzie—"

"I said go home," I repeated, wiping my face and glaring at him. "You obviously have more important things to do then threaten me to keep my mouth shut so Corey doesn't find out."

"It isn't about that," he said, tugging at his hair. "I'm sorry—"

I hit him in the chest. "Save your apologies for people who actually care." I remember craning my neck to look up at him, though he wasn't as tall as he is now, the pain and guilt his eyes held was traumatizing. "I've spent my whole life waiting around for someone who hasn't even bothered to pay me a second glance, he acts like I don't exist and like we never knew each other."

I pushed him away from me, far enough so that I wouldn't fall into his arms when he decided to open his mouth.

Wiping another tear from my eyes, I said, "But I guess we didn't know each other like I thought we did. Now he's sleeping around with every girl in town to high five his buddies and talk about all their flaws and imperfections. He's the guy everyone looks up to and admires because he's a fucking god in their eyes. And he's the guy who could care less about the people who gave their whole childhood up in hopes he would notice them.

"News flash, Zachariah. You're not 'too cool' for us, in fact you've downgraded a hell of a lot since I really knew you. So whip Zachariah Jr. back out and go finish the slut who's in your bed right now, because you and I both know you don't care about how others feel."

All the color vanished from his face at that moment and he dared to step another foot closer to me. "I do care, Mackenzie. And I care about you."

And I think I went crazy at that moment, because all the charm that usually encircled me under his presence was gone. I laughed in his face, saying, "Burn in hell, Zachariah."

He tried to say something in response, but I turned my back to him and walked next door and into my house.

End of flashback.

******

Zachariah sighs, letting his blue eyes drop to the ground. "I cared, Mackenzie. I swear I cared."

"About who?"

"Her," he whispers. "And you."

I roll my eyes. "I know what I saw that day, and you didn't care about her, Zachariah. You looked like you would've preferred to be anywhere else but inside of her—"

"Mackenzie."

"You didn't care, Zach. Stop lying like you did." I use my hand to tilt his chin up. "Because if you cared about her, you wouldn't have walked away."

"But I did because I cared about you," he says, still playing with the hair tie.

"If you really cared about me, honestly, you would've never ignored me in the first place," I say in a low whisper, blinking back all the bottled-in emotions that want to spill out of my eyes.

"I know," he sighs. "I was stupid, okay? But I cared, I've always cared."

"No."

He sucks in a deep breath before tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "Listen, I care now."

"Bull crap," I mutter, glancing up at him. "You only care because I'm doing you a favor. If you didn't need me, you would've continued ignoring my presence until I wasn't a part of your life anymore."

"That's not true," he says sincerely. "We grew up together, Mackenzie. You're always gonna be a part of my life."

I look deeply into his blue irises before speaking; "I wish I could say the same."

His face drops into a look of confusion and it takes everything out of me to bite my tongue and keep my mouth closed.

Because you aren't just a part of it Zachariah, you're the whole book.

The beginning, the middle, and end.

Author's Note:

Are you ready, kids? *pirate's voice from Spongebob* Ready to get into Zachariah's and Mackenzie's past? Me too.

Make sure to comment and vote if you enjoyed :)