Chapter 18
ZARIAH
SAME TYPE OF BULLY
Montoya and I met up at Gianna’s to catch up on some homework. But I couldn’t focus.
The big question of the hour was one I couldn’t readily answer—had Denali changed? Present tense changing, past tense changed, or some unidentifiable third thing, what was the verdict? I couldn’t pinpoint it, yet I couldn’t keep that man out of my mind.
Sighing, I tried to focus on my notebook and my new, daily exercise. It was a freeform paper of things that made me feel to boost creativity before I touched the script.
What’s something that makes me happy?
Christmas, absolutely. The weird birthday Elijah and I shared as Christmas Eve babies so our family usually didn’t go all out, but my brother and I always spent the day together to celebrate our shared existence.
What else? Horror movie chase sequences. Cool sci-fi practical effects.
And…
I peeled off a new sticky note and tapped my pen against it. What made me happy today?
Well…I went to the Colo to pick up Elijah and found him and Denali at the gym.
Denali was lifting weights, his huge arms raising the bar, his muscles flexing under his shirt.
When he was finished, I watched him lift his water bottle and how his throat bobbed with each swallow, the sweat trickling down his flushed skin.
Hm. Yeah, that certainly made me feel something.
I hid my sticky note from Montoya and scribbled down ‘bench press at the gym, water running down the side of his mouth after he drinks his water bottle.’ God, that was a sight.
Last night, I went out drinking with my friends and almost texted Denali. I didn’t—thank goodness—but I’d really wanted to. Like really wanted to. I had this bright idea that I’d thank him for dealing with the Jeremy situation again.
Because when Denali let me decide, and carefully adhered to what I wanted…
It was a turn-on.
A very, very low bar of a turn-on but still a turn-on.
My eyes dropped to my pen, where I was scratching Denali’s name in the margin. Oh my god—shit. I quickly scratched out his name.
“Zariah?” Montoya asked, clearing the fog.
“Hm?”
“The defensive schedule changed. It moved ten minutes later.” A beat passed, and when I glanced up, I saw Montoya watching me, like he was waiting for me to say something. “Denali changed it. He’ll be putting it in the chat.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Okay?”
“I make sure to remember that stuff now.”
“Remember what?”
His mouth curved for a small frown. “Um…because…?”
“Because…?”
“Because it’s about Denali?”
I straightened up, my cheeks suddenly warm. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, I thought—sorry.” He busied himself with his homework, red with embarrassment. “I thought you wanted to hear that.”
“I never asked for Denali updates.”
“No, but you get excited about them, so…”
Oh my god, did I? Was it that obvious? I cleared my throat, fighting to look relaxed. “Well, Denali’s the captain, Elijah’s his best friend, it makes sense I’d want to—you don’t have to keep tabs on him, Montoya.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “Good.”
We returned to our assignments, and I wrote notes for the next scene. I was being totally normal. Maybe a little flustered but nothing I couldn’t control.
Montoya grabbed a breadstick, chewing slowly. “Denali asks about you too.”
My eyes snapped up. “Does he?”
That was an admission of guilt like no other.
Montoya caught me. Because was I really that surprised?
No, I just wanted to hear the details. Montoya’s smile was so sweet and warm, a silent promise he wouldn’t push it, and dammit if I wasn’t so grateful for this kid who saw through my bullshit so easily.
I gave a sigh too long to be real, ready to switch topics. “Are you excited for WTU?”
“Um…” He lifted a shoulder. “I won’t be playing.”
It was the wrong topic to switch to. I couldn’t believe Montoya was stripped from the lineup. If he wasn’t allowed on the ice, what did that make him? Decoration for the bench?
It was so unfair. Bear helped him, but Bear’s help was sporadic with June’s schedule and he was more of an encouraging partner than someone to get a legitimate critique from. I wasn’t sure that was the real solution to push Montoya to success.
What Montoya needed was support. And there was an obvious lack of that.
How could I turn a blind eye to this? I couldn’t ignore how Denali treated Montoya. As a leader, his teammates saw it in action, and it cemented the problem.
How could I be getting comfortable with Denali, how could I claim he was so different, when he was turning into the same type of bully we hated as kids?
“Have you tried talking to Sémajuste?” I suggested as gently as I could.
“Sémajuste just took over our team,” Montoya mumbled. “He has enough going on.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Did Denali tell you why he doesn’t like me?”
My eyes flickered to his. “We’ve…talked about the situation.”
“I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t like me either.”
“Montoya—”
“King is the coolest guy in the world,” Montoya said, his voice hushed. He was talking about the football player who got hurt, one of my personal friends. “He’s a top defensive player, he’s got all of these cool tattoos, he did that stuff for his mom—he broke a guy’s arm in three places.”
“I know King,” I said softly.
“Elijah was kidding around, he told me he could beat up King in a fight, and I was really drunk—” Montoya’s eyes dropped to the table.
“I told him nobody could beat King in a fight because of all the stuff King did—I was just trying to be funny. I didn’t mean to say everything I did. I didn’t think Elijah would…”
“Montoya, none of what happened was your fault.”
“It is.”
As much as I wanted to protect Elijah, as much as I loved my brother, I couldn’t ignore the truth.
It hurt to say, but I had to. “Elijah chose to hurt King at that party. He chose to hit him with the bottle.” I hesitated, taking a slow breath.
“It’s something none of us can really push him to come to terms with… he has to grapple with it on his own.”
“I’m really sorry, Zariah,” Montoya choked out.
I pushed out of my seat and nudged him aside to take the place beside him. Montoya was so much taller than me, but I didn’t care, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him. “I’m sorry you’re involved in it. You shouldn’t be.”
By now, Denali had to see he was being unfair to Montoya. So that meant he was making the active decision to be shitty to him.
Yes, Denali changed, but this wasn’t a change that I liked.
“Elijah’s told me he doesn’t blame you,” I said firmly, taking my seat again.
“Denali still hates me.” Montoya mumbled.
“That’s—” I stopped myself, thinking it over. It was a reason, but that reason wasn’t big enough. Something else was nagging me, Denali’s issue with Montoya wasn’t that simple. It was something Denali refused to recognize. “That’s not the only…reason.”
“What? What did I do?”
“It’s not what you did—”
“Why doesn’t Denali like me? I don’t understand.”
“I think…” I drummed my fingers on the table, carefully choosing my words. The details weren’t mine to tell and I’d never want to embarrass Denali. “I think Denali sees a lot of himself in you.”
Montoya’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you joking?”
“No.”
“The USAC champion, the captain of my hockey team, the guy who can bench press twice as much as me, sees himself in me?” Montoya stared at me in disbelief. With a shake of his head, he resumed his homework. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better but that doesn’t make sense.”
I couldn’t provide more details, and I didn’t know how to talk to Denali about this. It was so much more complicated than I anticipated, especially with…how I felt about him.
Oh, god. Something was changing inside and I couldn’t stop it.
I was starting to like Denali.