He stops a few feet away from me, still being held by Art, who’s talking excitedly. I can see him hopping on his feet but I can’t really tell what he’s saying.
I grab the edge of the counter and breathe the fresh scent of blueberry pie wafting off Zach.
Zach’s eyes drop to my lips. “I like ’em extra sweet.”
I find myself nodding. “Yeah. Okay. I have syrup.”
He looks up. “You do.”
“Yes. All kinds of them. Chocolate and maple and strawberry. You can have whatever you want.”
I realize I’m talking kind of fast and kind of breathily, like I can’t get enough air just because he’s sucking me dry with his eyes.
“Whatever I want, huh?”
Oh, and I also accidentally said the same exact thing as I did the night I snuck into his room.
My reply is different this time, though.
Against a pounding heart, I nod again. “Yeah. Whatever you want.”
Zach roves his eyes over my features, probably trying to gauge my feelings, and I give him a small smile.
Before he can react to it, Art pulls him away.
After that, I get to work. I mix up the pancake batter, adding in chocolate chips to make them extra sweet. I’m not much of a cook but this is going to be the best damn meal Zach’s ever tasted. I’ll make sure of it.
I hear their chattering in the background. Mostly it’s inconsequential, but then I hear Zach’s low voice and I move closer to the edge of the kitchen so I can hear him clearly.
Art’s sitting on the couch, his legs dangling, and Zach’s kneeling on the floor before him.
“You know what bullies are?” Zach says. “They are cowards. They are afraid of everything. They are afraid of themselves. They are afraid of you.”
“They are not afraid of me.”
“You kidding? They are terrified of you. You probably haunt their dreams, buddy.”
Art giggles. “No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.” All traces of amusement go away from Zach’s face as he continues, “That’s why they pick on you, Art. Deep down they know that this is it. This is the best fucking time of their lives and when it’s over, they’re over. If they are tall, they know that’s it. That’s all they are ever gonna be and that’s why they pick on people shorter than them.”
“When am I gonna get tall?” Art mumbles.
He chuckles. “You’ll get tall. You’ll get taller. That’s the thing about the bullied, Art. The bullied, they know they’ll change. They know things will get better for them. Your bullies know it too. They’re terrified of you because they know your time is coming. One day you’re gonna be taller than them and you won’t even need this.” Zach wraps his big hand around Art’s fist. “You won’t need your fists, your jacket, nothing. And you know what else?”
“What?”
“When you’re taller, they won’t mean anything to you. They’ll mean nothing. Less than nothing. You won’t even remember them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. For bullies, their whole life is about you. Their whole life revolves around you, about putting you down. That’s how they feel better about themselves. But for you, they don’t even exist. They don’t even matter. You’re gonna forget them and move on, but they’ll never forget you. That’s your power.”
“You mean, like my superpower?”
“Fuck yeah, your superpower.”
Art giggles again. “You’re not supposed to say that.” Then, he leans over to Zach. “Blue doesn’t like bad words.”