19. Ambrose
Ambrose
I was full of so many thoughts and feelings as I walked with Zeth along the dirt path that led away from the chapel.
I admit it was my own fault for misunderstanding his intentions today.
When he came into the chapel and sat in Annabelle’s pew, I felt so sick, I thought I would need to rush outside and vomit.
But he hadn’t meant to come with her, and more importantly, he hadn’t given her a courting kiss.
I stared at the path as we walked side by side, our hands clasped together.
When I glanced over at Zeth, he gave me a reassuring smile that made me flush with affection.
Regardless of our past relationship, of how shaky our reunion was, Zeth chose me over Annabelle.
That made me so elated, yet I couldn’t forget all the things I had done to try and prevent him and Annabelle from getting together.
“I’m sorry, Zeth. When you came back home with your own goals, I suppose I was… jealous. I said things I didn’t mean, tried to distract you. I also ruined your suit at the lake.”
“I deserved it,” he pointed out with a shake of his head. “But I still can’t believe you pushed me into that cold water.”
I laughed and clutched his arm with my other hand. “Haven’t you ever heard it said not to piss off a redhead, love?”
“Love?” Zeth’s face lit up. “I like that. Say it to me again.”
My face tingled at his husky command, and I immediately said, “Love. My love. Zeth Washer, man of my dreams.”
Zeth stopped, making me falter a few steps ahead, then he tugged me around by my hand. I spun until I landed against his chest, right where I wanted to be.
I loved how his eyes watched me so intently, as if trying to figure me out. “What is it, Zeth?”
He captured one of my hands and raised it to kiss the back. “You just have me sort of lost for words.”
“That’s alright, you don’t have to say anything.”
The breeze stirred, swirling the blooms from the trees encircling us in colors of pink and white.
We both glanced up, mesmerized by the beauty of it.
Then Zeth reached up and plucked a petal from my hair, making me laugh.
This moment, this choice I had made to be with Zeth, felt so right.
I knew as we stood out here in the open air that it would be the best decision I ever made.
“What happened to the schoolhouse?” Zeth suddenly asked, squinting at something over my shoulder. “It looks run-down.”
I followed his gaze to our old school set off the path. The building’s blue paint was chipped in many places, and there was a broken window. A few dented balls sat in the grass, and two wooden swings creaked on their ropes attached to the sturdy sycamore tree we used to climb.
“Edward Cooligan invested in another schoolhouse closer to the square. A larger one, with multiple classrooms.”
“That was kind of him, but I rather liked the old one. It was ours,” Zeth replied with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Shall we try to go inside? I wouldn’t mind getting you alone so we can do some math equations.”
“Hm, knowing you, we’ll end up actually doing an assignment.” I bit my lip and raked my eyes along his body. “But I’m sure I could distract the teacher.”
Zeth chuckled low, “You’re distracting me already. Better lead the way.”
Laughing, I tugged on his hand to lead him to the school yard fence.
It had once been whitewashed, but stood now mostly stripped of its paint.
As we walked through its gate, memories flooded me.
There were the swings Zeth and I would compete on to see who could jump the furthest off their seat to land in the dirt, and the ball reminded me of a time I’d kicked one so hard, it hit Janice Shears in the face.
I felt so bad for giving her a bloody nose.
“That tree is a hazard,” Zeth said from beside me.
I followed his gaze at the giant sycamore. Though much bigger now, the tree indeed had been the cause of many broken bones at the schoolhouse. “Remember when I dared you to climb to the very top and it took an hour to get you down?”
“It wasn’t because I was afraid, I’ll have you know. The branches were too thin and snapped each time I tried to descend. Now looking back…” He crossed his arms with a mock-accusing glare. “I suspect you tried to kill me, Ambrose Somerset.”
“Never.” I pinched his hip playfully. When he reacted to get me back, I swiftly stepped out of reach and laughed at him. Then I shuffled backward to the building, summoning him with my eyes to follow.
When we reached the school, I turned and pushed on the door.
It opened easily, creaking on its hinges.
Inside, the place held a few empty liquor bottles.
As I stepped in, my shoes crunched over broken pieces of glass.
There were desks pushed against the wall and filthy rags in the corner.
On the far wall was the blackboard, full of chalked graffiti.
Though I once described school as my own personal hell, this place brought back memories of more than assignments.
Laughter once graced these walls from jokes or pranks, and many friends were made.
Some of them went on to become part of the snobby elites of Everdeen, while others, like Arthur, worked hard to pursue the things they loved. I wanted that too.
Zeth’s firm hand plopped on my shoulder. He eyed the room too, no doubt as overrun with memories as I was. “Hm.” He cocked his head. “With the place so empty, that ink stain really stands out now.”
I knew exactly what he was talking about as my eyes found the massive black stain still marring the wood floor. I snickered and covered my mouth with my hand. “Mrs. Marsh was so mad at you.”
Zeth slid his arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his side. “Well, if you hadn’t been throwing rocks at me from behind to get my attention, I wouldn’t have tipped my inkwell off the desk.”
I looked at him and grabbed his jacket lapels playfully. “They were pebbles, Zeth. Pebbles .”
He huffed and rolled his eyes. “They felt like rocks. I still have scars.”
“No, you don’t. I would have noticed.” I winked at him as I thought back to all the times I’d seen him naked. Besides the scar on his shoulder from the fence post, nothing else blemished that handsome body of his.
Zeth pecked my nose affectionately before he pulled away and made his way over to the desks. He hefted one up as if it weighed nothing and carried it to his old spot where the ink stain was.
It was odd seeing this taller Zeth next to the smaller furniture.
There was no denying how much he’d changed.
His shoulders were broader, his face was slimmer, and there was a shadow of hair on his jaw.
The parts of him that had changed had my body aching with a new craving I desperately wanted to satisfy.
To be under his control, to surrender to him.
And more than that… I wanted to know this older, more complicated Zeth.
What he now liked and disliked. How his mind worked, what he was feeling in the moment.
At the current moment, Zeth was preoccupied with rearranging furniture.
He placed another desk chair at the spot where I used to sit, just opposite the main aisle, before he scooted back to the first desk.
His long frame slid into the chair until his knees hit the underside of the desk with a thump.
“Fuck me,” Zeth said with a chuckle while adjusting to his new height.
I tsked as I made my way to his desk and peered down at him. “Imagine Mrs. Marsh’s response if she heard you say that.”
“Who needs to imagine?” Zeth pressed his palm against the desk. “I think I still have lines on my knuckles from the ruler she smacked me with.”
“Mm, you poor thing. Rulers weren’t enough to get me to behave. I spent too much time in that corner over there.”
Zeth nudged me with a pinch to my hip, as I’d done to him outside. “Go, sit, and be a good boy now. I’m trying to line the desks up properly.”
“Fine, I’ll go sit, and be a good boy.” Zeth’s eyes lit up while I sat in the other desk. “Like this?” I asked, drumming my fingertips on the wooden surface.
“Yes…” Zeth’s face soured on me. “No.”
He sprang to his feet to grab my desk. The legs of my chair scraped across the floor, and I gripped the edges to steady myself, until he moved me to the middle of the aisle next to his own desk.
“Want me close?” I asked.
“Aye. There shouldn’t be an aisle separating us. Never again.” He touched my cheek softly before he maneuvered into his own chair.
I propped my elbow up on the desk and rested my chin in my hand to stare at Zeth’s amused expression. He remained quiet as I admired him, and he observed me too, as if trying to figure out my thoughts.
Feeling comfortable with him, I leaned back to look at the chalkboard, glad of the memories we shared but also happy I no longer had to attend class.
“I always loved school,” Zeth said, glancing around. What he loved, I hated, and I could respect that. “It was a place away from the laundry, where I could hang out with a certain boy. You always won the art competitions. I was in awe of your creativity.”
His compliments added more strings to my heart. I reached over and grabbed his hand, glad he pulled me closer. “Art is about the only thing I’m good at. But you have that sharp wit, a quick mind that knows how numbers work.”
“I can’t explain how it works. Calculating, adjusting, finding the right answer, it just makes sense. I should have studied to be an accountant, or an estate manager, or something boring like that. Something that puts food on the table. Instead, I’m no better than the thief everyone thinks of me.”
His words wedged into me, deep and stinging, and I thought back to the day we met at the picnic, when he accused me of calling him a thief. I’d insinuated as much in Annabelle’s parlor too. I took a deep breath, preparing my next words.