"Really? Then why haven't you gone to see Mac again? If we're all such good friends, shouldn't you be there with her? Or do you not love her?"
"Of course I love Mac. It's just not the same thing."
"It's not?" he asked, surprising me by reaching out and grasping my wrist. Before I could register his intention, he was tugging me toward him so our chests were touching and our faces were only inches apart. "And you love me like a friend?" he asked, crushing his lips to mine.
The kiss was angry and punishing. I could have pulled away. I probably should have, but I was curious and decided to let it play out. I wondered if he would ignite the same fire in me that Brian had. I slid my hands into his hair, anchoring his head into place while his lips moved roughly against mine. His tongue was relentless as it slid into my mouth desperately searching for something, someone else. It only took me a moment to realize that I didn't have what he was searching for and I wasn't the person he was looking for. I didn't pull away though. I stayed in his arms pressed against his chest until he reached the same conclusion I had. Zach was hurting.
I knew when he finally realized he wouldn't get what he was looking for from me. I wasn't Tracey and I never would be, just like he could never step into Dan's shoes. Zach's lips lost their hardness as they pressed more tenderly against mine. His tongue retreated only to return more softly, almost apologetically, before leaving for good. I stayed in his arms even after his mouth left mine.
"This fucking sucks," he said, looking more lost than I'd ever seen him.
I reached a hand up and settled it against his cheek. "It's going to be okay."
He shuddered at my words but didn't push me away. His arms tightened around me to draw me closer. It was an awkward angle, but my own arms wove around his back. I felt the splash of his first tear on the back of my neck, which was quickly followed by another one.
He buried his head into my neck.
He was broken. We both were.
Zach and I didn't talk about the kiss when he finally pulled himself together. I borrowed his mom's keys and loaded him up in her new SUV with the rack attached to the back for his wheelchair. Neither of us commented about the procedure of loading him in a vehicle. The irony that I was now the one strapping us in and pulling out of the driveway was not lost on me.
His mom waved from the driveway with a wide smile on her face. She probably wouldn't have been quite as excited if she knew where I was taking him. I tried not to think about the last time Zach and I'd been headed toward the beach. We were both silent as I drove over the causeway that we once let out whoops while going down. I could see the pinched look in his eyes, but I could also sense the anticipation in them.
I didn't head toward our usual beach after I cleared the bridge. I turned left, heading for a different destination. I could see the questioning look on Zach's face, but he didn't ask where we were going.
Five minutes later I pulled into a parking spot, unloaded his wheelchair, and pushed him toward our destination. It was early in the day with most of the beachgoers still lounging in the sun, which meant the small beachside amusement park was dead.
I pushed Zach over the sand-covered sidewalk with one destination in mind.
"I can't go on that," he finally spoke when I stopped to buy us two tickets for the Slingshot.
"Can he go on this?" I asked the pimply teenager selling tickets.
"Can you hang on?" he asked Zach, leaning out the window of his stand to get a better look.
"Yes," Zach answered.
"That works," he said, not looking concerned. I avoided reading the rules listed on the outside of his stand in case he was wrong. This was too important.
The attendant running the ride was even less concerned about Zach's wheelchair as he helped me maneuver it into place so Zach could hoist himself into the seat.
"Are you sure about this?" Zach asked as the attendant wheeled his chair to the side.
"Do you want to be free?" I asked, grabbing his hands.
"Yes," he answered fervently.
"Then hold on," I said, smiling at him as the attendant pushed a button and launched us into the air.
Sixteen
Brian was waiting for me outside my apartment when I arrived home that evening after dropp
ing off Zach. My heart tripped slightly at the sight of him. I tried and failed to put him out of my mind all day.
"Where have you been?" he asked when I stepped off the last stair leading to my apartment.
"Does it matter?" I asked, shouldering past him.