Chapter 11
Unknown: This is Zach Marcus. Wanted to apologize for Sunday.
Apologize?
A lone gray text bubble sits at the top of my screen under a phone number I’ve never seen before, but there’s no mistaking who it is. Hayden’s brother. Zachary. And he wants to apologize? That should probably be my job.
The words feel like they’re haunting me, begging for a reply. I must be taking too long, because the bubbles start strobing at the bottom of the window.
Unknown: Hayden’s brother.
I roll my eyes. I figured that out. It isn’t that hard.
I don’t know too many Zach Marcuses. I grunt as my head meets the thickly painted white cinderblock wall at the back of the classroom.
Mr. Shook, my ancient Biology teacher, drones on about how adaptations can take hundreds, thousands, or even millions of years.
He was probably there when the peppered moths he has projected on the screen adapted back in the Industrial Revolution.
I tap the screen to start typing out a reply. I pause. What do I say though? Okay just seems blunt. Not to mention, what is he apologizing for?
Mackenzie: I know who you are. And apologize for what?
It takes a few seconds for the bubbles to start jumping and a new message to come through.
Zachary: For questioning you dating my brother.
Ah, that. Yes, and thank you. Even though you’re right.
I may never admit it, but you are. Who am I kidding?
He’s going to find out one day. Oh no, he’s going to find out one day!
What the hell am I doing? I grip my phone tighter.
Maybe if I come clean right now, it’ll all just blow over.
Maybe they’ll forgive it, and I’ll get to go back to crushing on Hayden. Like normal.
I start to type a confession but stop after the first letter, “I”.
My chest tightens and my mind goes into rush hour.
His family will hate me. They’ll think I’m a cheap liar.
I’ll never get to talk to Hayden again, even if he does wake up.
He’ll hate me for making them think he’s gay, or bi, or whatever, won’t he?
But if I don’t come clean and he wakes up, I’m screwed too.
I close my eyes and take in another deep breath.
Mackenzie: Apology excepted.
My eyelids drop and my head dips. I feel no better. My stomach is a mess, and I just dug my hole deeper. This isn’t sustainable. My phone buzzes again and I’m horrified to look at it.
Zachary: Excepted? Is that some new way to say no?
The bell rings and I jump. Calm down, Kenzie. Talk to Kaity about it. Maybe she can give you some plan to get out of all this before you end up in prison. I throw my bag over my shoulder and take off. I need you to have a plan, Kaity.
Between a huff and annoyed groan I type.
Mackenzie: ::facepalm emoji:: Accepted.* Sorry. Damn autocorrect.
I barely get past two classrooms before my phone vibrates again.
Zachary: ::laughing-crying emoji:: ::laughing-crying emoji:: I get that. So can I make it up to you?
Make it up to me? Does that entail never seeing each other again? That seems fair, except his entire family still thinks his brother is in love with me, so that’s a long shot. Whatever. A smile extends across my lips as a thought comes up. It’s absurd, but it’ll be funny to see what he says.
Mackenzie: You can come to my place and help me clean.
I hit send. I stop to see if he replies. If I were him, I’d either never text again or come up with some elaborate excuse. Which might be part of my problem, actually. I give it a few seconds, and there’s nothing. Nice. I think I lost him. Maybe he got the—
Bubbles start fading in and out again on my screen, then boom, his reply.
Zachary: When? What’s your address?
My eyes pop open. Uh… What?
“I…uh…” I look around the packed hall. I’m not dreaming, am I?
Nightmare maybe? How am I supposed to follow that?
I didn’t mean it! He was supposed to say no!
I don’t need him coming to my house. Not after yesterday.
Not ever! It’s one bad idea on top of another, and I don’t need any more bad ideas.
Hold up! This could be okay. I could make him do everything, make him work, and maybe he’d want to go home. The thought sits there for a moment, but then I feel bad for it. I can’t do that, but how do I take it back?
Simple, Kenzie! Just write back that you were joking and that everything is okay.
Mackenzie: After school? When are you out?
Yeah. I effed up.
Zachary: 2:45
Admit you don’t need him there. It’s not that hard, Kenzie!
Mackenzie: 3 here. But I work until 8.
What am I doing?
* * *
I’m home in record time after work and somehow he still beat me. My headlights catch an unfamiliar truck. I don’t know a lot about trucks, but I think it’s lifted, a Toyota, newer, and it’s flaming burnt orange. I stop behind it and a door swings open.
Zachary steps out. His hair isn’t gelled in place today. It’s tousled about his head and even over his forehead some. It’s…nice. Plumes of dust cloud around red, white, and black Nikes in the glow of my beams. He waves, all smiles.
I half grin and wave back before unlatching my belt and getting out with my hoodie squeezed around my waist. Why did I invite him here? He’s going to see that I’m poor.
“Hey.” I start toward him, but then divert through the yard so I don’t have to maneuver around him.
“Hey,” he calls back as I make for the house without him. In the corner of my vision I think he crinkles his brow before taking off after me.
“You really didn’t have to do this,” I say. Maybe I should have said I didn’t mean it, why are you here? But I had way too much time to cancel on him and I didn’t.
“It’s okay!” Zachary says. “I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me,” I tell him. On the porch I stop and put up a hand to make sure Zachary understands.
“Just so you know. My mom is a little…down,” I say. I don’t want to say sick. That’s not really it. And depressed…well, that sounds too sad. “She’s okay, but like…”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He nods. I can see the understanding in both the kind curve of his cheeks and the way his eyes soften.
“Nah, just wanted you to know before you see her,” I explain.
He nods and I unlock the door and push inside with him on my heels.
I groan when I lay my eyes on the inside.
The usual brightness of the foyer’s white walls and repeating flower pattern feels dingy and old.
The kitchen seems out of date, aged. I notice all the little stains on the wallpaper.
Even the cracked vase of flowers I put next to the door seems lackluster and screams that we’re not like them.
“It feels so good in here!” He exhales and sheds his leather jacket.
I’m not quite ready to lose mine. I need more time to retain the heat. “Yeah. Sorry it’s a mess.”
“A mess? It’s great. Where can I put my jacket?” Zachary asks.
Hmmm. We don’t get lots of guests, and I usually throw mine over one of the dining room chairs, if I take it off at all. That feels poor though. He’s probably expecting a coat rack or a whole-ass closet. My thoughts scramble for an answer, but I come up short.
“You can just throw it over one of these.” I point at the closest chair in the dining room.
He doesn’t question it. He simply steps over and deposits his jacket evenly over the first chair.
“So what are we cleaning?” he asks.
“Kitchen,” I say, spreading my arms and spinning. Why does it feel so small now?
“That shouldn’t be too hard,” he comments.
He’s not wrong. It’s not dirty. I don’t let my kitchen get dirty.
Messy though, disorganized—that’s another issue.
Plus the boxes on the table. Packages from everywhere.
Mom’s comfort purchases. I don’t bother asking what they are anymore, and sometimes I wonder if she needed any of them.
It’s not like we can afford it, but I try not to say much because it just makes her sadder.
If nothing else, it’s taught me to save.
“Hey, dear!” Mom appears around the corner like she knew I was thinking about her.
She’s dressed in one of her work pantsuits, minus the coat.
The collar frills around her neck and she’s still got makeup on, which never happens.
Any other day she’d have wiped it all away and switched into pj’s before I got home, but I told her Zachary was coming over.
I also finally filled her in about my new relationship status, all of it, even though it was all a lie.
It went over about as well as I’d expected, but I had to say something.
She wasn’t happy. Disappointed sums it up best, and I think that’s what hurt the most. She might be smiling now, but that’s just a facade.
“Hey.” I smile back and give her a hug. It’s weird seeing her like this. All smiles. Cheerful. I like it, but I wish it was real. “This is Zachary. Zachary, my mom.”
“Zachary.” Mom smiles and reaches out to grapple him in a hug. Yeah, she’s a hugger. It doesn’t matter who you are. “Kenzie’s told me all about you.”
All about you? What the— What are you doing? I barely told you anything. Just that he’s Hayden’s brother, Hayden’s in a coma, I’m talking to Hayden, and they’re sort of wealthy. It seemed like all the important information at the time.
“Really?” Zachary’s eyes go big. It could be the hug he’s being smothered in or that she heard all about him. “Good to meet you.”
“All right, we have to clean, so, uh…” I grin through tight locked lips at Mom.
“You two have fun. I’ll be in the living room,” Mom says, but before she leaves, she raises an eyebrow at me.
Stop it, Mom! Not now! Once she’s gone, I turn to Zachary and switch to planning me. “Okay, so let’s clear the counters and the table, and go from there. You get the counters and the dishes.”