Chapter 20
ZARIAH
SOMEONE YOU COULDN’T IGNORE
The alumni night was exactly what I needed. Time to see my friends, dance with everybody I could, and when Ryan hit the stage, we played a drinking game. Ryan was a notoriously hard-ass team captain, and we had a tradition to take a shot every time he said ‘responsibility’ in a speech.
“I’m calling it,” Kassie hiccupped. “Ryan’s still going and I’m drunk.”
“You forfeit?” I giggled. “Pussyyyy.”
She pretended to take my scarf, and we haggled over it before crumpling together, laughing quietly. I relaxed in the crook of Kassie’s neck, pleased and loopy.
My eyes drifted to the table in the corner. I’d taken the opportunity to drag Elijah off to go dancing, but besides that, the hockey team had kept to themselves. I thought that they’d—
Leave early?
I blinked, confused. Where did the Gladiators go?
I texted Elijah but he didn’t answer—typical—so I texted Cleo instead.
CLEO
Ryan’s speech ran too long. Event staffers decided to cut Denali’s. The rest of the Gladiators left but Denali’s staying for pictures.
ME
wheres denali??
CLEO
He’s around. I just saw him by the doors.
But I didn’t see Denali anywhere, especially at the lonely table.
He must’ve been excited when they nixed his speech—Denali hated public speaking. Déjà vu struck me.
Five years ago I helped Denali write a speech for his brother’s wedding, but he was so anxious and had a horrible acne breakout the night before.
An hour before we were supposed to leave, I found Denali in his family’s garage, sitting on the little stairs, hunched over.
I’d wrapped my arms around his neck and held him close.
Was Denali hiding somewhere?
It wasn’t my responsibility, but I couldn’t push down the nagging suspicion that he needed help.
“Where are you going?” Kassie asked as I slipped away.
“I’ll be back, Kass,” I whispered.
I forced myself to walk like a normal, sober human and left the main room. The hallways were quiet and dark, every room I checked was empty. Maybe Denali already went home.
I rounded the corner and opened the only illuminated storage closet. A man sat on the floor, propped against the desk, his head tucked in his arms, like he was unbelievably tired.
I stared. “Denali?”
“Zariah?” He jerked up, slamming his head against a box, hanging off of the end of the desk. “God-fucking-dammit!”
I quickly walked in. “Oh my god—”
“No, Zariah—the door!”
I whirled around on my heels, lurching forward. The door handle clicked into place and when I wiggled it, something rattled inside.
My eyes widened. “What the hell?”
“I’ve been locked in here for—” Denali clutched his forehead, swearing heavily. “Shit, I don’t know how long I’ve been here.”
“What?!”
“I’ve been banging on that door for like ten minutes!”
I gave him an incredulous look. “What are you doing in here?”
Reluctantly, he showed me four beer bottles. “I nicked them from the bar. I came here to see if I could wrap them in my jacket.”
Holy shit, I couldn’t be stuck in a storage closet with him. “You don’t have your phone?”
He pulled it out from his jacket. “I grabbed Elijah’s by accident.”
“And it’s dead,” I realized. “Why doesn’t he ever charge his damn phone?!”
“What about you?”
“I have it—no, I don’t.” I swore when I realized I must’ve left it behind with Kassie. I caught sight of a solution, the fire extinguisher. “I’ll break the door handle.”
“Woah, woah, Zariah—”
“I just need to smash the glass—”
“Zariah! We don’t know what kind of handle that is. What if you fuck it up for good and nobody’s able to open it from the other side? They’d have to call the fire department. That’d take twice as long.”
I was way too tipsy to think this through, but he had a point. We just needed someone to find us. But, while I slammed my fist against the door and yelled, Denali sat on the floor, head leaning against the desk.
“Denali.” I motioned to the door. “Dude!”
“They have the metal things over there to stack chairs, they’ll have to come in here eventually.”
The speeches were still going, and nobody besides stupid me would be walking these hallways. I swore under my breath and strode to the desk. “You have four beers?”
“Yeah?”
“Give me one.”
Silent, Denali passed me one and I slammed the neck of it against the edge of the desk, popping off the cap. Before it could bubble to the floor, I took a quick drink and slid next to Denali, my legs stretched out in front of me.
Denali shrugged and without looking back, he smacked his beer against the desk, cracking off the cap too. He took a long swig, staring ahead. “Were you going to the bathroom?”
“I was looking for you,” I admitted.
“Me? Why?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. About the…speech.” The admission arrived before I could decide to say it. Because while Denali was completely sober, I wasn’t. The alcohol made my tongue warm. My mind was fuzzy. “Because…you know…public speaking…”
His eyes widened and a flush crept up his neck. “Oh.”
I took a slow drink and gazed up at him. It was so interesting how different he looked now. I always liked how he looked—mullet included, I was fifteen and loved cowboy movies—but now he’d grown into his features. His strong nose, his ears, his prominent jaw, nothing about Denali was small.
“You look very nice,” I decided.
“I think you’re drunk,” he finally said.
I nodded. “We had a drinking game at the table.”
“Jesus.” Denali tipped back his beer, chugging half the bottle. “I keep thinking ‘it can’t get worse.’ I have to stop thinking that. It keeps fucking me over.”
“This is worse?”
“Getting stuck in a storage closet with my ex-girlfriend while she’s in that dress?” He thumped the back of his head against the desk, staring at the ceiling. “This isn’t ideal.”
“What about the dress? You don’t like it?”
“No, I like it.” He exhaled. “That’s the problem.”
I’d sat with him, because I was too drunk to stand for very long, but now, I was all too aware of the lack of space between us. The heat between us.
I took a small sip of beer. “You know what I can’t stop thinking about?”
“How drunk you are?”
“How many tiny coincidences happened for us to be at Marrs together.”
He was silent for so long, I started to tug off my gloves. "It's not a coincidence.”
I froze. “What?”
“It’s not a coincidence that I’m at Marrs. I never said it was.” His voice deepened. “Zariah, what are you doing here?”
“Me?”
“We made shopping lists for your dorm. NYC, Los Angeles, Chicago, you had a list of colleges you wanted to go to, and you said you’d never go to Marrs because you didn’t want to go to school in Houston.” Denali watched me, unwavering. “What are you doing here?”
I wet my lips. “I—”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t get into those schools. Don’t lie to me.”
My cheeks heated. “I got into those schools.”
“I know you did. So why?”
Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. “My family didn’t want me to go.”
Disappointment radiated off him. Denali leaned against the desk again, running his hand down his face. His sigh was heavy.
“I got scholarships, but my parents didn’t understand why I’d want to live so far away.” I quickly took another swig of beer, embarrassed. “Elijah said that—um—it’d be the first time we’d be apart for real, and—” Clarity came to me in the liquor-induced haze. “Denali, what are you doing at Marrs?”
“I wanted a hockey team to clean up and make my own.” He finished up his beer and grabbed another one, cracking it against the desk. “And I picked Marrs because it was the one school I knew you wouldn’t be at.”
“There’s lots of schools I’d never go to. You still picked the school in my city.”
“Because I wanted to become someone you couldn’t ignore. I wanted you to see me on billboards and commercials—” A wry smile crossed his lips. “Look at me now.”
His words were self-deprecating. They grated my skin, exposing something raw and tender underneath. I knew how I should’ve felt but I couldn’t stop thinking about how many years had passed and I still influenced Denali’s decisions.
I was a ghost at the edge of his thoughts, a presence he couldn’t shake. It was bitter and long-lasting, infuriating and…romantic.
He held out his beer, and I clinked mine to his. We took a drink, finishing at the same time, our movements synchronized. Not on purpose, but I knew he was feeling the tension too. It made us fidget, left us restless. Every glance was shared a little longer.
“Do you ever think about how different things could’ve been?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Like if you went to Dallas instead?”
“No. Elijah was supposed to spend the second summer with Hersch. What if I met him first? And you were really just my best friend’s sister? Could things have been different?”
I was too drunk. Something was unraveling inside, threatening to spill out. “That wouldn’t have happened.”
“What if Hersch’s two-year sentence actually meant two years?”
“It wouldn’t have.”
“I know some people believe things are destined to happen or whatever but—”
“It wouldn’t have because Hersch didn’t have a two-year prognosis.”
Denali’s mouth fell open. “What?”
I’d kept the secret bottled inside for so long, I thought it would’ve been shut away forever. I couldn’t believe how easily it slipped out.
Denali’s eyes darted across my face like he was trying to read a difficult book, like he was trying to understand.
“Riah, what are you talking about?” He stopped himself, hurrying to correct the mistake. “Zariah. What do you mean?”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry about it?”
“You don’t want to hear this part.”
“Don’t worry about it?”
The sound of footsteps interrupted us, and I lurched to my feet. My movements were jittery, a panicked bird in her cage, and I slammed my fist against the door. It was yanked open, and I stared into Cleo’s shocked face, our savior.
“Where have you two been?” Cleo exclaimed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Maintenance was called, and I returned to alumni night, bringing Denali with me.
I could feel his questions. He didn’t want to let this go.
And when I tried to direct him to my friends’ table, he took me by the elbow, taking me to the shadows by the bar.
“You don’t get to say that and stop there.
Hersch and I were close too. I know he had two years left. ”
“Can we talk about this later?” I whispered.
“No. We can’t. I took you to the hospital visits, I saw his paperwork—”
“He forged the dates, he reprinted things,” rushed out of me. The dam had splintered, the seal couldn’t be unbroken.
Denali stopped me from leaving, pleading. “Please talk to me.”
“I—I—”
“You can’t say shit like that and disappear. Talk to me. Please.”
I couldn’t run away from this forever. Reluctantly, I opened the door to the gardens outside and walked into the silence. No one else was out here, it was only us.
I didn’t want anyone to overhear.
Denali dipped down. “There’s no way Hersch wasn’t terminal, I saw him.”
“Hersch didn’t have a two-year prognosis,” I said softly. “It was only one year. His clock started in January, but his doctors told him the timeline was optimistic.”
“No. That’s not possible. Elijah was going to spend the summer with Hersch, he told me himself.”
“That was never going to happen,” I said quietly.
“How do you know?”
“Hersch called me in January. He said if I could keep a secret, we’d have the best summer ever. He knew I’d keep it quiet. He knew Elijah wouldn’t.”
“He…he faked the two years,” Denali said, shocked. “Your family…?”
“They have no idea.”
“Elijah…?”
“Elijah doesn’t know. And he’ll never find out.”
“What the fuck, Zariah? Hersch shouldn’t have done that.”
“I don’t know if I made the right decision,” I admitted.
“Hersch was worried if the family found out, they’d put him in hospice care—and they did when his condition got worse.
If I would’ve told everyone earlier, I don’t know if he would’ve forgiven me.
” I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling so small.
“But we were co-enablers. I let him do whatever he wanted. Let him ignore his medication, his doctor visits. God, do you remember when he wanted to smash those mailboxes? I never said no to him. I never said, ‘maybe this is too far’ until it was too late.”
“And when you…wanted to leave early…” Denali said slowly.
I nodded, confirming what he didn’t need to ask. The memory of that conversation had been fresh on my mind.
August, five years ago. I’d been grappling with telling my family.
Hersch didn’t want me to, it would’ve cut our summer early, and when I told Denali about this abyss I’d been staring into, he’d panicked.
He was convinced a long-distance relationship wouldn’t have worked because our parents would’ve put a stop to it.
I tried to calm him down, but it was the first time he’d made me cry.
“Zariah. I’m so sorry,” Denali said quietly, moving towards me. He crossed the distance between us, reaching to touch my waist, and I stumbled back, hitting the railing.
I thought he was going to kiss me.
It took me seconds to realize he wanted to hug me. He wanted to hug me, and I recoiled from it.
Hurt flashed across his face, raw and real and so painful. It broke my heart, but not enough to override my discomfort.
Denali changed his course for the railing, leaning over it instead, facing away to give me space. “I’m sorry.”
I joined him at the railing, an awkward pace away. Still too close to pretend like I didn’t want to move closer, but far enough to keep myself safe.
Everything we said should’ve dampened the tension between us, but if anything, it electrified it. I breathed in, forcing myself to learn to live with it, to live with him being close enough to touch.
We could say we were different, that we’d grown and changed, but I didn’t want to get hurt again. Being loved by someone who doesn’t care to understand you, who doesn’t care to love you the way you need, was unbelievably lonely.
I never wanted to experience that again.