Why was it hurting worse with every word out of his mouth?
“You sure you were messagin’ me and not somebody else? You sure you didn’t just forget about me?”
And that had me staring back at him. “Unless you changed your number back then, I had the same one I was always reaching out to you on, Zac.” But that suddenly got me thinking. Had he changed his number and he’d forgotten to tell me? It wasn’t like I had gotten some message back saying the number wasn’t active anymore… but that had been so long ago, had that even been a thing back then?
Did that make sense?
“I’ve changed my number a few times, when somebody’s figured out it’s mine, but I don’t remember doin’ it that long ago,” he kept going, nailing me with that intense expression that felt like looking at an eclipse. “I know I would’ve told you if I’d changed it and your messages would’ve been on it. I know it.”
But he hadn’t.
I knew without a doubt in my mind that I’d texted him. If he’d forgotten to tell me, or Boogie, that was one thing, but it just didn’t make sense. We had texted once a week back then. I wouldn’t have been all the way at the bottom. He wouldn’t have forgotten about me in a month if I’d kept blowing up his phone.
And oh my God that really did sting like crazy.
I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to bring this shit back up. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. It was done. There was nothing we could do to go back in time.
“Look, I don’t know what happened, but I know I messaged you. Over and over again. Not like every day or anything, but like we used to, you know?”
He looked like he wanted to believe me.
“And you never texted me back, Zac. I wouldn’t lie about that. I literally have no reason to,” I said, because I didn’t want him to think I’d been desperately reaching out to him. He could do whatever he wanted to, even if that included not having time for me. But I wasn’t going to get blamed for shit. “Even moving in with Connie and Richard, I wouldn’t have been so busy that I wouldn’t have texted you back. You were my friend, and I loved you. That was a bad time for me after Mamá Lupe passed away and I had to go live with Boogie’s parents for a couple months before finishing school, but… I’m telling you the truth. I tried. I just thought….”
That time in my life, after I’d had to move out of my abuelita’s house two months before my high school graduation, when Connie had been living in North Carolina, Boogie had been crazy busy with work, Zac had been in Dallas, and my parents… my parents had been gone again, had been the hardest time in my life. I had loved my aunt and uncle, but they hadn’t been the woman who had raised me, or even my big sister. Moving so far away to be with Connie had been scary, but it had really been my only option then. I could’ve stayed with my aunt and uncle, but I hadn’t wanted to stay longer than I needed to.
And then everything with Zac had happened, and it had just felt like the right thing to do.
I’d hit my limit on loss and grief then.
I glanced up at the ceiling for a second when I felt my eyes get watery and my nose started to get a little funny as well. I sniffed and forced myself to drop my gaze as I told him another thing that was partially the truth. “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend anymore.”
His features slackened, and I was pretty sure I saw him bite his bottom lip for a second before his forehead was lined all over again as he shook his head. “At no point in my life have I ever not wanted to be your friend,” he told me in a stricken voice, “and I know you wouldn’t lie, kiddo.” His gaze was solid and steady. “But you’ve gotta believe me that I wouldn’t have ignored you, and I wouldn’t lie about that either. I wouldn’t lie to you period.”
Well, I could believe it, because it had happened.
But…
“You don’t believe me.”
Ah, shit. “I think you believe you wouldn’t have done that, but—” You had. “—I texted and called you, and that’s the truth.”
“I would have texted you, Peewee,” he insisted.
But he hadn’t. Because I would have responded.
“I was busy back then. Everything was crazy, but I—” He swallowed, and again, I knew what he was thinking. What he wanted to say but didn’t want to say. I wouldn’t have forgotten you, but he had.
Otherwise, he would have tried harder to communicate with me over the years.
Maybe he had asked Boogie about me.
Maybe he had thought about me from time to time at the beginning, when he was imagining messaging me back, but after a while, he’d forgotten.
And we both knew it.
And in a way, I was glad he wasn’t forcing himself to get that claim out.
It would have just been worse.
So when he aimed strained, light blue eyes at me, I didn’t know what to tell him, how to comfort him, because honestly, I needed a little bit of comforting too. Mine wasn’t out of guilt though; it was just at the reality. At the loss.
“Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, okay? There’s no point in… pointing fingers.” Because we both knew who had the biggest finger pointed. It wasn’t freaking me.
Zac stared. “No, it does matter, darlin’. It matters to me. I haven’t seen your face in ten goddamn years, and I don’t understand why, and the more I think about it, the more it’s pissin’ me off.”
I raised my eyebrows at him.
He kept going. “You used to hug me all the time, mess with me all the time.” His mouth went tight and flat. “Now, you treat me like we barely know each other; you barely joke with me.”
“I joke with you.” That sounded weak even to me.
He shook his head and blew out a breath that made his lips do a raspberry. “Peewee, I’ve got my heart up to here.” He gestured toward his neck. “And I’m gettin’ pissed off.”
“At me?”
“No, honey, not at you. At… everything. Myself.” His gaze strayed upward, and he blew another breath. “How the hell did that happen? I don’t understand.”
What did he want me to say?
Those blue eyes moved back toward me, and that time he sighed, his shoulders going down in the same way they had back when I’d told him about Paw-Paw, like just, down and sad and unsure.
And honestly, I hated it.
“No wonder you look at me like that,” he stated quietly.
My heartbeat was in my throat, but I asked anyway, knowing I shouldn’t, knowing it was mean to make him feel worse. “Like how?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “All nice like a stranger. Jokin’ with me and then rememberin’ that you don’t wanna do that.” Zac looked away for a moment. “I missed ten years of your life, kiddo. I didn’t even recognize you at first. I didn’t think I could feel like more of a piece of shit than I did that other night, but I do.”
He had missed ten years, but I’d missed ten years out of his too.
And that had been my choice.
I sighed and took a step closer to him, closer to that tall, lean body that I was sure had to be a wallpaper on hundreds of women’s cell phones. To that face that really did deserve to be on the cover of magazines far more often. I reached over to grab his warm forearm and said, “I could’ve reached out to you too, but my feelings were hurt.” It was the truth. But I didn’t want him to focus on that too much. “I’m sorry, Zac. I honestly thought you just didn’t want me around anymore.” That was the truth too, even more so than my first statement, and that was enough drama for me. Enough sadness. I didn’t want to talk about the other shit; this was exhausting enough. And there was even less of a point in bringing that up than this.