Broken Fairytales

by Monica Alexander

  I instantly knew Phil was holding back information. He said that with too much nonchalance for me not to read into it, but I wasn’t going to probe. If Zack had asked him not to say anything, he wasn’t going to let me know what was going on. No matter how much he liked me, his loyalties lay with Zack.

  “Where is he?” Rachel chimed in, not knowing Phil like I did.

  “Who’s this?” he asked me, his thumb gesturing to Rachel.

  “This is my best friend, Rachel,” I said as Rachel leaned toward Phil, waiting for him to answer her question.

  “She’s feisty,” was all he said, as he glanced at Rachel.

  “She is,” Rachel said. “Do you know where Zack is?”

  “Yes,” Phil said warily, careful not to give away too much with his expression I noticed.

  “Phil, if you speak to him, can you please tell him call me?” I asked. “I’m worried, and I haven’t heard from him all day.”

  Beside me, Rachel started to speak up, but I stopped her with my hand, shaking my head at her. She kept quiet.

  “He’s okay, Em,” Phil said, and the way he said it, I knew something had happened to Zack’s mom.

  My heart sunk at the dark thoughts flooding my brain, and I wished Zack would call me. At least he had his family with him. He wasn’t alone, but I could only imagine what he was dealing with in that moment. Phil patted my hand a few times before whispering to Nina that our drinks were on him that night.

  Rachel and I sat sipping vodka tonics as I waited for the phone to ring. Chase met up with us at nine, and I tried to maintain some sort of positivity throughout the night, but it was tough. When we got home around midnight, I put Zack’s sweatshirt on, inhaling his familiar scent that clung to the fabric – clove cigarettes, the beach, and something that was distinctly Zack. It made me feel better but only for a short time.

  By the time I started to drift off to sleep, I was worried beyond belief but had enough alcohol in my system that my eyelids still got heavy. I had just drifted off when my cell phone ringing on my nightstand woke me.

  “Hello,” I said, suddenly wide awake and knowing exactly who it would be.

  “Hey,” Zack said, sounding utterly deflated and exhausted.

  “Zack,” I breathed, so happy to hear his voice. “Thank God! How’s your mom?”

  He sighed heavily, and I heard an ambulance siren in the background. It sounded like he was outside.

  “How did you know?”

  “You’ve never dropped off the radar like that before, and when I went to your house and everyone was gone, I just assumed.” He didn’t need to know I talked to Phil.

  He sighed again, and I could literally feel the weight he was carrying around. “She’s okay. I’m at a hospital on the mainland. She was having trouble breathing last night, and then she had a few seizures, so my aunts brought her here. It’s been really touch and go all day, but she’s stable now.” His voice was wavering slightly. “I’ve been with her all day, so I couldn’t call you. I’m sorry. I know you called me a bunch of times.”

  “No, Zack, don’t even worry about it. I’m so sorry about your mom, but I’m glad she’s okay now. Do you want me to come meet you at the hospital?”

  There was silence on the line for a few seconds, as if he was weighing his options.

  “No,” he finally said. “It’s late. Go to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay. I’m here if you need me,” I said, wishing it would help ease some of his worry but knowing it wouldn’t. There wasn’t anything I could do to fix what was wrong.

  “I know,” he sighed, before I heard the line click.

  I didn’t sleep well that night and woke up feeling worse than I had the night before. I went through the motions of lying on the beach and enjoying my time with Rachel, but my mind was elsewhere. I tried to ignore the nagging feeling in my stomach but just couldn’t. I’d felt something shift. I wasn’t sure if it was the reality of the situation Zack was in or the tone in his voice, but a part of me knew that something changed between us that day.

  When Zack didn’t call me the next day or the day after, I knew my suspicions had been confirmed. On the fifth day that I hadn’t heard from or seen him, I started to get angry. It was a selfish feeling, but I couldn’t help it. He was dealing with so much, and I shouldn’t expect him to even think of me when he was worried about his mom, but I felt awful that he refused to let me in when he needed someone the most. At least his family was with him.

  In an effort to calm myself down I walked to his house, as I’d done that first day, expecting to see the same things I’d seen when I peered in the kitchen window – same newspaper on the table, same dishes in the dish drainer, same sandals discarded by the entrance to the living room. My expectations were confirmed. Zack’s house looked exactly the same.

  I ventured over to Molly’s house to see if maybe one of them had returned and fought back the tears as I looked in the window to see all traces of them gone. At some point they had returned, packed up their belongings and left the island, the house closed up for the winter. My chest constricted, as I realized Molly hadn’t even said goodbye.

  My shoulders slumped as I walked home. At least Zack wasn’t gone, but of course, where else would he go. He lived on the island year-round. I missed him, and it hurt like hell. What was worse, we were leaving the beach in a week, and I didn’t know if I’d see him again. I was sad, angry, hurt, and worried all at once, and I didn’t know how to cope with any of it. Thunder rumbled noisily overhead, and the rain started when I was halfway home. I burst into tears on the spot, not knowing how else to react and feeling incredibly drained.

  By the time I got home, I was soaked, sobbing uncontrollably and just wanted to crawl into a hole. Rachel met me on the porch, having seen me walking up the road. She wrapped a beach towel around me. Losing all strength, I fell into her and we slid down to the ground where she held me as I cried and stroked my hair.

  Once my sobbing had lessened to a sort of gasping/hiccupping cry, she pulled back and looked at me. “Feel better?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  She hugged me again. “He’ll turn up. I know he will. He probably just can’t call you back right now. If his Mom’s in the hospital, then he probably wants to be with her, to make sure she’s getting the best care.”

  I nodded, but I knew it was a lame excuse.

  “Come on,” she said, “you’re soaked. Let’s get you changed, and we’ll do something to take your mind off of Zack, okay?”

  I nodded and let her help me up from the floor of the porch.

  After changing and drying my hair, my hurt turned to anger. “I’m so mad at him,” I said to Rachel, hating the emotions I was feeling. “He could at least have had the courtesy to call. He should know how worried I am about his mom.”

  “I know,” Rachel said, sitting at my window smoking a cigarette.

  I watched her inhale deeply and blow smoke out into the wet afternoon. The rain had eased up as the storm passed, but the air was still damp and thick.

  “I want one,” I said, turning to face her and gesturing to the pack sitting on the window sill.

  She raised her eyebrows at me. “Since when do you smoke?”

  “I don’t, but I have before, and now I want a cigarette. Besides since when did you become a full-on smoker,” I challenged accusatorily.

  I still wasn’t convinced that my brother didn’t have more influence over her decisions as of late, but it was her choice, and she seemed okay with the changes she’d made, so I didn’t push the issue.

  “Okay,” she said ignoring my question as she shook out a cigarette from the pack and handed it to me. “Do you even know how to light it?”

  “Yes,” I said, tersely, grabbing the lighter from her hand and bringing it up to the tip of the cigarette, inhaling as I did so. It tasted gross, but I didn’t care. I blew the smoke out, the tension slipping from my mind ever so slightly.

  We sat togeth
er on the wicker trunk, silently inhaling and blowing smoke out the window. I could tell Rachel wanted to say something, but she also knew I didn’t feel like talking. It was just after I’d lit my second cigarette that Chase knocked on my door frame. I looked up at him.

  “If you guys are going to do that, you might want to keep the door closed. The hallway smells like smoke,” he said.

  “We’re adults, Chase. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  “Em, trust me, I’ve been sneaking around for years because even though it’s legal, mom and dad will lecture the shit out of me if they find out I smoke – and I’m just talking about cigarettes. Take my word. Invest in some Febreeze, stick a towel under the door, keep the fan on and the window open.”

  “Is that all you wanted? To lecture us?” I snapped, slipping back into how I used to react to my brother coming into my room.

  “Emily!” Rachel said, stubbing out her cigarette as she looked at me, appalled at my outburst. “Don’t be a bitch to him. He was trying to be nice.”

  “Sorry Chase,” I mumbled, realizing what I’d one. “That was shitty of me.”

  He crossed the room to stand behind Rachel, his arms falling loosely over her shoulders. “It’s fine. I get it. I know you’re on edge right now.”

  “No,” I said, firmly. “You guys have been great. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  “Well, don’t snap at me again, but Zack’s downstairs,” he said softly.

  Before I knew was I was doing, I was racing down the stairs, cigarette in hand. Zack was standing on the front porch, just outside the screen door, his hands jammed into his pockets. He looked broken – thinner, as if he’d lost weight in the five days since I’d seen him, and he had dark circles under his eyes. I could tell he hadn’t been sleeping much.

  I flew into him, dropping my cigarette to the ground before wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. I barely felt his arms move around me, holding me loosely in return.

  I pulled back to look at him. “She’s not … is she?” I asked, knowing I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud.

  Zack shook his head, just a small movement that allowed me to let out the breath I’d been holding, before he hung his head.

  “I’m exhausted,” he said.

  I put my hand on his cheek. “I know. You look it. Come inside. We can sit and talk. I’ll get you something to eat. Have you eaten?”

  He shook his head, but I wasn’t sure what he was saying no to. “Let’s sit out here,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”

  We sat down on the porch steps. Zack didn’t take my hand. He just folded his together in his lap.

  “How’s your mom?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  He shrugged. “She’s dying of cancer. She’s not good.”

  “Zack,” I pleaded, wishing he wouldn’t be so blunt about it. It was like he was turning his emotions off.

  He sighed, long and deep. “Em, you know I care about you, right?”

  I nodded, but he didn’t see it. He finally looked over at me.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice coming out in a whisper.

  “You care about me too, right?”

  “Yeah, I do. Zack, what are you getting at?” I asked, putting my hand on his thigh. He took it and put it back in my lap.

  “Don’t do that. It’ll just make this harder.”

  My stomach flipped and not in a good way. “Make what harder?” I whispered, already knowing the answer.

  “Saying goodbye.”

  “Oh,” I said, realizing what was happening. Then I shook my head a few times, my conviction suddenly fierce. “No. No, Zack. No. I can’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Say goodbye to you. I won’t do that. I care too much about you.”

  He laughed a short, non-humorous laugh that almost sounded mocking. “You need to just forget about me,” he said, his gaze fixed on a far point in the distance.

  “Absolutely not,” I said, reaching for his hand. This time he didn’t push me away.

  “Emily,” he said at the same time he sighed, so my name came out sounding as tired as he was. “I’m not good for you, and I think we both know that.”

  “Like hell you’re not,” I said, the fight in me clear. I was not going to let him go that easily. I would fight for what we had.

  Zack picked up the cigarette butt I’d discarded and flicked it out into the yard. “Em, I don’t think you realize how broken I really am.”

  “I think I have a pretty good idea,” I mumbled.

  He looked over at me, eyes flashing. “Then you know I’m not good for you. You deserve so much more than a guy who can’t get his shit together and has no foreseeable future beyond bartending and playing guitar for a bunch of drunks. You deserve more.”

  “If this is you ‘caring about me’, it’s fucked up, because you should know me well enough to know that I don’t want more,” I said, my conviction strong. “I want you. Zack, I love you. I don’t care about the rest.”

  He looked over at me, fire blazing in his eyes. I could tell he didn’t like what I’d just disclosed.

  “Dammit, Emily!” he said, jerking his hand back. “This is what I didn’t want. This is why I don’t date. I didn’t want someone to fall in love with me.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Well too bad, because I did.”

  Zack took a deep breath, almost to steel himself. “No you didn’t,” he said, calmly. “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know enough.”

  “You know what I allowed you to see, and that was pretty much bullshit, so no, you don’t know me. You don’t know half of the shit that I’m dealing with right now.”

  “Then let me in, Zack. Let me help you.”

  He shook his head firmly. “No, I’m just, I’m fucking broken, and you can’t fix it. You need go live your life and achieve all the things that you want, because you are special and amazing, and you’re way too good for me.”

  I let my head drop to my hands, seriously in danger of losing it in front of him. He wasn’t making any sense. Mere days before he had held me close and told me how much he appreciated me taking a chance on him that summer – how much he’d needed me when he didn’t even realize it. Now he was pushing me away? It made no sense. What the hell had happened?

  “Emily, you told me when we first met that you wanted a fairytale life, and you deserve that. I can’t give it to you. All I can offer you is a broken, cracked, melted fairytale, and that’s not good enough.”

  “Fairytales are bullshit,” I snapped, using the same line as he’d used on me, but I meant it. After an imperfect summer with Zack, with highs and lows and everything in between, I no longer wanted the fairytale. It wasn’t real.

  “No, they’re not,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to hold you back from everything you deserve in life any longer. If you stay with me you’ll drown, and I can’t let that happen. You need to go after what you want and forget about me.”

  “What I want is to be with you,” I said firmly.

  “And I want to be alone,” he said and dropped his gaze to his lap as my heart broke into a million pieces.

  I knew then there was no arguing and no amount of fighting that would allow me to keep Zack. He’d made up his mind, and I had to accept it.

  “My mom’s getting really bad,” he said then, his voice cracking. I looked over and saw tears in his eyes.

  “How bad?” I asked, all the fight gone from my voice. I could see just how broken he was in that moment, and I knew he needed me to just stop pushing. I took his hand in mine again, being the friend I knew he needed, even though it killed me to do it, knowing he didn’t want me anymore.

  He looked over at me, exhaustion written all over his face. “Bad. Once she’s well enough to travel, they’ll let me bring her home. I know she doesn’t want to stay in the hospital until the end, so we’ll come back here and then … I don’t want to think about it.”

  I nodded in u
nderstanding, but with that understanding also came the knowledge that he would be alone at the end. I wished more than anything that he’d let me stay with him, be there for him, to pick of the shattered pieces after she was gone, but I knew he never would. He’d made up his mind.

  I squeezed his hand and blinked rapidly several times, trying to will the tears to say in my eyes. I didn’t want him to know how much I was hurting, since it could never compare to what he was experiencing, but I was pretty sure he could tell. He always could read me better than anyone else.

  I nodded a few times. “I don’t want to think about it either,” I said, not sure I could say much else without breaking down. There were a lot of things I didn’t want to think about.

  God, how I would miss him. I fought with everything in me to keep it together, but knowing I would never see him again, it was just too hard. I wanted more than anything to just have one more perfect day with him, but I knew it wasn’t possible. He’d already made up his mind that we weren’t right for each other, and that was that. Plus he had more important things to focus on than a girl who fell way too hard for him when she should have known better.

  “It really was a great summer,” he said then, his teary eyes meeting mine. “I’m so grateful that I got the chance to know you. You are truly a special person, Emily Cole, and I hope you find what you’re looking for, once you realize what that is. Just don’t lose sight of who you are – remember that.”

  I nodded as tears flowed down my cheeks. He released my hand and set it back in my lap. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I knew in that moment just one thing I wanted, but it was slipping out of my grip. Out of instinct, and because I wanted to do it one last time, I reached up and cupped his cheek with my hand. He leaned into it, closing his eyes for a beat, as if letting some of his pain go for a just a few moments.

  “You’ll get through this, Zack. You’ll be okay,” I said, hoping he would see I was right.

  He nodded a few times but didn’t respond. I wanted to tell him he could call me, but I didn’t think he’d want to do that. I didn’t think he’d want to see me again. He came by to see me to tell me goodbye, and he meant it.