Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Ileft Zara alone for the rest of the day, figuring she needed a break from me. Now, I’m doubting if that was the right thing to do. She left school right before the last period, and she hasn’t answered any of my messages since.
I’m tempted to go over to her house and check on her.
Maybe someone needs to tell her parents that she’s not okay.
She admitted to me today that she’s sad, and she has no idea why.
I spent two classes Googling depression and I really don’t like what I saw.
Zara needs professional help and it’s not as if her family can’t get her the best doctors money can buy.
Pacing around my bedroom, I try to call her. She doesn’t answer. Fuck it. I pick up my keys and open my door, almost running into my mother on the other side.
“In a rush?” she asks.
“I have to go do something.”
“It’s family dinner. You’re not going anywhere,” she says, her tone very nonnegotiable.
“It’s important,” I tell her.
“So is dinner. Also, your guest just arrived. She’s in the living room.”
“Guest?” I ask, confused.
“Zara,” Mum says.
“Zara’s here?”
“You invited her,” she reminds me.
“Yeah, I know. I just thought… Never mind.” I step out of my room and shut the door, heading for the living room, where the majority of my family is hanging out. My Uncle Santo stops me first.
“I was waiting for you to show your face,” he says.
“Really? I can give you a picture, Uncle San, if you miss my face that much.”
“Are you planning on going into a career in comedy?” he asks.
“Nope,” I say.
“Good, because you’re not funny. How’s school?” Out of all my uncles, Uncle Santo hovers the most. A fact my dad hates. But Uncle Santo has a soft spot for my mum. No one gets it but they have a close relationship.
“Good. Have you seen dad?” I look around, noticing that both my father and my Uncle Gio are missing from the room. That can only mean they’re talking business.
“Yeah, he’s out back with Uncle G,” Uncle Santo tells me.
“Great.” My eyes are on Zara. They haven’t left her for more than three seconds since I spotted her talking to my cousin Roman. He’s three years younger than us, one of my Uncle Santo’s kids. I glance around the room again. All of my cousins are in here and there’s a fucking lot of them.
Uncle Gio has Aurelio, Daniella, and Rosie. I like Rosie the best out of that bunch. Then Uncle Santo has Roman and Kirra. Uncle Gabe has Luciano, Christian, and Willow. And my Uncle Marcel and his wife chose not to have kids.
I love all of my cousins, but if I had to choose for Zara to be talking to any of them, it wouldn’t be fucking Roman. He’s a flirt and will try to get under any girl’s skirt. He might be younger but that won’t stop the idiot from trying to flirt his way into Zara’s bed.
“I need to give Zara something from school,” I say as I walk away from my uncle and over in her direction.
Zara looks at me with trepidation.
“Hey, I’ve got that work from English you missed. Follow me,” I tell her, turning around. I don’t wait to see if she listens. I know she will.
Zara wouldn’t want to make a scene. She’s been raised to not create public embarrassment for her family. I also remember her having to take etiquette lessons when we were younger.
I hear the tap of her heels on the marble behind me. “Where are you going?” she asks.
“Upstairs,” I tell her.
“Why?”
I don’t answer her. Instead, I wait until I’m inside my bedroom. She glances over a shoulder, as if someone is going to stop her from entering. I reach around her and close the door.
“Why did you bring me here?” Zara asks.
“Why haven’t you been answering my messages? Or calls?”
“Because I don’t have to,” she snarks back.
“Why’d you leave school early?”
“Because I can.”
“Why are you here?” I try a different approach.
“You told your mother I was coming. It would be rude not to show up,” she says, and her eyes dart away. She’s lying.
“Try again. Why are you here, Zara?” I press her.
Zara steps around me and starts looking at my room. “I wanted to try something.” She shrugs. “I wanted to see if it was a fluke.”
My head tilts to the side as I watch her. “If what was a fluke?”
“The way my mind goes… kind of blank when I’m around you. When you touch me, I’m not thinking…” She stops.
Stepping closer to her, I reach out and take hold of her hand. Zara’s eyes lock in on where our skin connects. “What happens when I touch you?” I ask her.
She lifts her gaze to mine and I see it all. The pain, the sadness, the hopelessness. “You make the noise quiet down,” she whispers.
I have no idea what noise she’s talking about, but I want to be able to help her. Which is why I pull her closer to me and wrap my arms around her. Hugging her in a death-like grip. My nose nestles into the crook of her neck as I inhale her fruity scent.
Zara sighs loudly and then I feel her return my hug. Her hands land on my back, her fingers bunching around the fabric of my shirt.
“You always smell so good,” I admit.
“I shower. You should try it sometime,” she says.
A chuckle escapes me. “Are you offering to shower with me, P?”
“No.” She quickly pushes away from my chest. Reluctantly, I let her go. “It can’t just be you,” she says.
“What can’t just be me?”
“Whatever this effect is you have on me, it can’t be limited to just you.”
I frown. “What are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter. I should get back downstairs.”
“Zara?” I call out before she can open the bedroom door. “Whenever the noise gets too loud, I want you to come and find me.”
“Can you keep what I told you between us? I don’t need the world to know I’m fucked up.”
She already knows I’m not going to tell anyone. We’ve shared secrets before. If she didn’t trust me, she never would have admitted that she was having any kind of problems.
“Answer my messages and calls. Because when you don’t, I think the worst and I won’t hesitate to come to your house to find you to make sure you’re okay.
And then I’ll have to explain to your parents why I’m there.
” It’s an empty threat. I’d never tell anyone her secrets unless I truly thought she was in danger.
“I’ll try, but sometimes… I just can’t,” she says.
How bad is her depression?
But then I remember I tracked her phone right before my mum told me she was here. It said she was at her house. “Where is your phone now?” I ask.
“I left it at home.” Zara shrugs.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to.” She smiles. “I also know you’ve done something to it.”
I shake my head but I don’t say anything. I can’t lie to her. I did clone her phone and put a tracking app in the background. I don’t regret it.
“Come on, my mum is going to be looking for us.” Taking Zara’s hand in mine, I give it a squeeze.
She holds on until we get to the last step. Then she pulls away, creating distance between us. I don’t like it.