by Lilly Mance
Zack smirked, and hesitated as if he considered something, then said, “I guess I could give you my shirt, but I don't think I could explain Sophie's doc why I came back naked,” he chuckled, and a thought of him half naked woke up my butterflies from their nap.
“Go,” I urged him with a slight push with my palms against his chest. When my hands connected to that warm godly statue, his eyes sparked, and a mischievous grin covered his face. He disappeared into the darkness, leaving my hands pushing nothing but air.
~*~
Half an hour later, Zack was back. Success was written all over him. Swaggering, he flashed two thumbs up, and grinned ear-to-ear. I jiggled in place from excitement.
“We did it!” He said as soon as he reached me. Without stopping, he draped his arm over my shoulders, and continued walking. I couldn't even express my shock with this gesture, because he did it so nonchalantly, as if it were our everyday thing. I swallowed hard, telling my butterflies to stop flapping their wings, or I'd faint. “It was amazing. Oh, I wish you could have been there.”
“So do I,” I breathed, still overwhelmed by his arm over me.
“I gave Sophie the book, and she handed it to her doctor,” he stopped walking, and pulled his arm off for reenactment sake. “Sophie's hand was like this,” he bent his knees as if he were sitting, and extended one hand. “Doctor's mouth dropped, and her face turned pale white. She didn't take the book right away,“ he chuckled. “She was in shock! Guess she didn't quite believe the first test,” he snorted. “Sophie was still holding it in the air, and then cleared her throat to get her attention.”
“So Sophie is free to go?” I cut in, impatient to get to that part.
Zack brows knit together, “Curiosity will get the best of you,” and then he smiled. “Anyway, she finally took the book from Sophie, and opened it to look at the inscription. A second later, she started laughing like a demented person. Sophie and I didn't know what to do,” his brows shot up, and eyes widened.
“Did you tell Sophie what was written?”
“After that, I did. Doc stopped laughing, and muttered something only she could hear, and then said Sophie was free to go in the morning if she wanted to.”
“Does she want to?” I asked, cautiously, fearing the worst.
“Yeah!” Zack put up a high five, and I smacked his palm really hard. “That was uncalled for,” he commented my smack, chuckled, and faked a frown.
“What?! I was stressing out, and you kept me in the dark. You could have said that first,” I returned the frown.
“It was implied. I said we've won, didn't I?” He pulled up a smug grin.
“So Sophie agreed to lie?”
“Yes, they are falsifying her sessions as we speak, and her parents will pick her up tomorrow.”
“I didn't say goodbye to her,” I dropped my lower lip, feeling sad. We weren't friends, but we shared a secret that connected us more than years of normal friendship. Zack lined up his pearl teeth, and his eyes sparked a devilish glow. “What?” I asked. His grin widened. “Spill it out or I'll drag it out of you!”
Zack chuckled, “Feisty!” I approached him, threatening, but he said, “You didn't have to say goodbye.” My eyes bulged. “She'll come by Mario's tomorrow!”
“What?! Come again?!” I couldn't believe my ears. Silly grin took over my face. Zack nodded, also grinning.
“Let's go,” he motioned toward the incoming bus.
All the way to the back of the bus, I couldn't take the grin off. This was the best day ever. We saved an innocent girl, a version of me, and she was coming by tomorrow. Well, Zack saved her, but I was a part of it. I dropped on the seat next to Zack with a loud sigh. I had a chance to have a friend that was a freak like me.
He tapped my knee, saying, “Feels great, doesn't it?” True happiness radiated from him, but now that Sophie was okay, reality kicked my butt. He was in a coma somewhere, and we had to talk about it. My grin dropped in a split second. “What's wrong?” Worry deepened his voice.
“Zack?”
“Yes,” he flashed a faint smile, examining my dull expression.
“You're in a coma,” I said, as if that was my last breath. His smile turned into a frown.
“I know,” he said, and scooped toward the window, staring out.
“We have to find your body. You could—”
“—die! I know!” He said, gruffly. Panic swept over me.
“That's not what I wanted to say,” and it wasn't. I didn't consider that option at all. My gut clenched, and tightness gripped my chest.
“But it's true,” he grabbed the hem of his shirt between his fingers.
“Did any of your memories return?” My throat tightened. The thought of him dying was unbearable. I couldn’t allow myself to go there, to touch that painful place.
“Nothing usable,” he dropped his hem, and returned to staring out the window.
“Zack, look at me,” I touched his hand, and he faced me, his eyes gleaming from moisture. My heart sank. Pain in those beautiful eyes was something I never wanted to experience. “We have to try. You can't give up—” My voice cracked.
“I'm not giving up, Lyra. But what can I do? I tried every imaginable thing there is.”
“I don't know. Meditation or some memory boosting technique. Anything we can think of,” I swallowed a knot. Suddenly, I was aware that losing him would be losing a part of me, as well. It wasn't just like I would be losing some incredibly hot guy that may or may not be interested in me. It was so much more. There was never going to be another Zack. With him, I felt complete. Regardless of what he felt about me, in this short period of time, he became my everything. There will never be another to top that. At that moment, I knew. I was undeniably in love with him, and desperately needed him to exist at least as a friend.
“Okay,” Zack replied, indifferently.
“If you don't have any plans,” I said, “Come with me now, and we'll Google some stuff. Mom's working night, and Dad’s on call.”
Zack nodded, and returned to gazing out the window. The rest of the ride was a silent agony.
~*~
All the way from the bus station to my front door I kept glancing at the silent statue walking beside me. He didn't seem to be aware of my anxiety; he seemed rather preoccupied with his own thoughts, occasionally frowning as if he were having an internal debate. I wondered how I got from being aggravated by a stalking ghost to being completely infatuated with him. Every step closer to my home, I became more nervous. Only moments separated us from being alone in my room. Sure, he was there before, but under totally different circumstances. Right now, he was a hot guy, and I was a girl, and we were going to my room to use a computer. My heart started racing like mad. I didn't think this through. What after I Google a couple of vague terms?
With shaking hands, I went through my bag looking for keys. Zack squirmed by my side, and changed weight from foot to foot, increasing my anxiety. Finally, my hand located the darn thing, and I slid the key into the lock. Unaware how clammy my hands have gotten, I turned the key, but my fingers slipped. The key chain cut my index finger on the thumb's side. I cussed. The blood oozed from a fresh bruise.
“Are you alright?” With urgency, Zack grabbed my hand, and to my utter shock, put my bleeding finger between his lips, sucking on my blood, with eyes closed. My eyes goggled in disbelief. His lashes swept up, revealing those intoxicating eyes, looking at my perplexed expression. A combination of an animalistic urge and primordial rush streamed through me. My lips parted, and my gaze dropped to my finger between his teeth. It was damn sexy, and so wrong. Zack, looking like a shy vampire caught stealing innocent girl's blood, flashed a confused grin, and removed my finger from his mouth, then darted his gaze to the floor, shuffling his feet.
“Zack?” I saw a drop of my blood on his lower lip. He lifted his gaze, slightly blushing. “You've got...um...a...” Unable to form a coherent sentence, I pointed toward his lip.
“Oh,” Zack chuc
kled, and licked the remains of my blood from his lip. I bit on mine, struggling with the hunger it stirred inside of me. To stop myself from grabbing him right then and there, I turned to the door, and unlocked the freaking thing.
As expected, the house was empty, so I turned on the lights, and motioned for him to get in. Passing me by, his shoulder grazed mine, awakening the hungry beast I put to sleep a moment ago. I bit my lip again. Zack went straight upstairs toward my room, then turned midway.
“Coming?” He asked, watching me still plastered to the door.
“Um, yeah,” I turned to lock the door behind us, feeling blood rush to my face. When I turned around, he wasn't in sight. A thought of him already in my room sent my heart down to my heels, then back up. A knot formed in the back of my throat. Slowly, I urged myself up the stairs.
The door to my room was wide open, and the light illuminated the hall. I took a deep breath, and went in.
Zack, oblivious to my state of mind and body, turned to me casually, and said, “How do we do this?” Eyes wide open, he stared at me, waiting for my reply.
I cleared my throat, and motioned toward my computer. “Um, there's only one chair, so one of us will do the searching, and the other one will listen,” I smiled, nervously.
Zack pulled out the chair for me to sit. The gesture had some regal tone to it, and it suited him perfectly. Timidly, I sat down, and turned on my desktop computer. Zack leaned on the back of the chair with his both hands. Boot up seemed to last forever. I twisted my fingers in my lap, forgetting the injury. It stung, and I suppressed the pain to hide my clumsiness. Welcome screen finally showed up, and I opened the browser window.
“Here we go,” I said and typed in memory recovery techniques. I heard him inhale deeply. Search results appeared, and I started opening a couple of them in tabs. First impressions weren’t much, dealing mostly with post traumatic amnesia and Alzheimer's. None of that could be applied to Zack. There was one page that suggested several general techniques that caught our attention. Zack lowered his head to get a better view of the page, our cheeks almost touching. I closed my eyes, and stopped breathing for a moment. A thin layer of air between our cheeks felt thick and magnetic, begging to be annihilated. Involuntarily, I shifted in my seat, my cheek grazing his lightly. Goose bumps strolled down the back of my neck.
As if electrocuted, he pulled back, saying, “Can’t see a thing. You read it,” and then he drew a breath that left an impression he was sniffing my hair. Couple of more breaths, and I was sure that was exactly what he was doing.
I cleared my throat, and commenced reading about hypnosis, free association, relaxation training, guided imagery and visualizations, projective drawing art therapy, dream therapy...and came to a halt. Zack scooped my hair, and moved it like that day in the park, over my left shoulder. My bare neck screamed to be kissed, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed his chin on my shoulder like a puppy.
“Guided imagery and visualizations might be worth a shot,” he said, his chin pressing against my shoulder as he talked, sending shudders to my gut.
“Mhm,” I muttered, scared to move an inch, wanting him badly to make a move on me. Again, he didn’t.
I extended our search in guided imagery and visualizations. Zack must have gotten tired from standing, so he went to sit on my bed. Briefly, I glanced at him, disappointed by nothing happening, and continued reading. After a while, I came across an interesting piece of information, so I asked him, “What do you think?” He didn’t respond. I assumed he was considering it, so I politely waited, keeping my eyes on the screen. But something was off. All I could hear was deep, relaxed breathing. I turned around, and saw him sleeping. I chuckled to myself.
After saving some bookmarks, I turned off my computer. Reclined in a chair, I watched his chest slowly rise and fall. Serenity of his face was alluring. He was stretched out on his back on top of a comforter, his arms crossed under his head. I supposed I could wake him up, but I didn’t want to. There was a spare blanket in the drawer under my bed, so I took it out, and covered him.
For a moment, I considered sleeping elsewhere, but my reason was overpowered by emotions. I turned off the light, and went to get myself ready for bed. A couple of minutes later, I came back, and turned on a dim light on my nightstand. He was still in the same position. I climbed in, and curled up on the side with knees tucked in. He stirred, moving his head toward me, but leaving arms where they were. I stiffened up, anticipating his eyes would open. His breathing continued, and I indulged in exploring his facial features.
Every muscle on that usually quite serious face was now relaxed. I traced the line of his face with my eyes, wishing it was my hand. His dark brows were perfectly arched over closed eyelids. Thick, long, black lashes extended toward his cheeks like little fans. His cheekbones suggested he was way past his baby fat, sending a shiver down to my gut. My glance moved to his straight nose, and down below, to his lips. Both lips were equally full, upper slightly heart-shaped, and I couldn’t think about anything else besides leaning in and doing nasty things to them. As if he sensed my impure intentions threatening his virtue, he stirred. Quickly, I moved from my side to my back, trying to control my heavy breathing, and not to flinch. He changed position by extending one arm somewhere over my head, and placing his other one over me, resting his palm on my opposite shoulder. My heart started racing out of control. Then he snuggled closer, burrowing his head in the whole of my neck. He muttered something incomprehensible, and inhaled deeply, exhaling warmth all over my neck. I shivered to the bone. He pulled me closer, and his nose connected with my neck, his breathing tingling me. I gasped, my mind went berserk.
Minutes went by, and I was still unable to relax. Stiffened up, I considered my options. If I move, I risk waking him up, and possibly ending this with him suddenly leaving. Now, why would I do that? If I don’t move, I’ll never know what could have been if he had woken up snuggled like this. That stirred my insides, and warmth zoomed through me. I decided to let my subconsciousness deal with it, and fell asleep.
~*~
Chapter #9
The alarm clock started ringing loudly, and I reached for it to make it stop. With my eyes still closed, I smacked over the nightstand with my palm, and kept missing the clock.
“It won’t help if you break the nightstand,” a husky chuckle against the nape of my neck jolted me. There I was, securely locked in Zack’s embrace, and he was okay with it? More than obviously, he was wide awake, and didn’t remove his arm. The alarm clock was still howling, and I didn’t know what to do, or say. He moved his arm that was cradling me, and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Good morning,” he said, sending shivers throughout my all-of-a-sudden-weak body.
“Good morning,” I breathed, and smacked the alarm clock shut. Panic stricken, I searched my mind for options. Now what!?
Gently, he rolled me onto my back. My insides flip-flopped, and I gulped. Zack propped himself up on an elbow, and placed his head on a palm, smiling softly. Our eyes locked, mine wide open as if fighting for air, his soft and dreamy. With his free hand, he crossed down my cheek with his knuckles. I gasped.
“Hope I didn’t crush you last night,” he chuckled. “I’m a restless sleeper.”
Didn’t think it was possible, but my eyes widened even more. I shook my head, and muttered a faint “No,” then sat up, turning my back on him. Last night, all I wanted was to kiss him, and now I chickened out. I struggled with my breathing.
“I have to get ready for work,” I breathed, and got up. He stretched out, then climbed out of bed, as well. I escaped to the bathroom, scared of what might happen if I got close to him.
Quickly, I brushed my teeth, and combed my hair, then recovered my courage, and went back. I inhaled, and opened the door, but Zack wasn’t there. Flabbergasted, I smirked, then saw a post-it on my computer screen.
It read, “Had to run. See you at Mario’s.” That flattened my mood. Mad at myself for chickening out, I hissed aloud “I must be bipo
lar!” Freakin’ mood swings!
~*~
When Sophie rolled in, I was taken aback. She was nothing like the girl I met in the psych ward. That girl was a bitter mess, this one standing before me was sweet, cheerful, nicely dressed, and glowing with confidence. I had to ignore Zack standing next to her as Mario's was packed with people, but I caught his glance, and a devilish grin.
“Sophie,” I called out. “You look great!”
Sophie did a little twirl, ending with a half bow by extending her skirt, and bending her knees. “Uh-huh,” she murmured, and surprised me with a friendly hug. “I'm so happy to see you,” she sputtered.
“I get off soon,” I said when we broke the hug, “Find a seat and I'll join you ASAP.” Sophie nodded, and Zack silently followed her, grazing my hand on his way past me, fixing his eyes on mine, not breaking eye contact until his head had to turn or fall off. I gasped as there was no doubt he did that on purpose, and wanted me to know it. Grazing was long, ending with a deliberate twirl of his fingers to touch my palm. I blushed to my roots.
“What can I get you?” I asked Sophie when they sat down. She looked at Zack whose gaze was fixed on me, then said:
“Tangerine. Can he get something?”
I shrugged, and said to Zack, “I don't know. Can you make it invisible?”
“I suppose so, but I'm fine. No need,” he grinned, maintaining that stare. What was he up to? Did he just want to make me nervous? I sighed, and turned around on my heels to get the drink for Sophie. A couple of moments later, I gave Sophie her drink, and rushed to other guests, ignoring Zack's attempts to catch my gaze.
Before I went to join Sophie and Zack, I had to stop by my friend's table. Maya and Helen were already angry with me for ditching them all the time, so they stopped coming by every day, and switched to every once in awhile. I had to come up with a good excuse for not hanging out with them today, and I had none. I considered telling them who Sophie really was, but Brad and Shawn were in the way. I decided to go with a half truth.