39. Zach
CHAPTER 39
Zach
I hope you never go back to who you were before.
That’s what Gigi, the girl who, against all odds, ended up being my best friend said to me. As I see her and Luke walk out of the coffee shop, hand in hand, I feel a sense of hollowness slowly radiating in my chest.
I hope I never go back to who I was before, either.
Shame. Regret. Still a shitload of anger, now mostly directed at myself. Guilt.
I really did that. I really bullied someone into depression. I really pretended to not know anything while I integrated myself in the lives of Andrew Palmer’s nearest and dearest. I’m a fucking bastard.
Nothing I did ever went right. I just wanted to rough up the son of the man who ruined my family, make him feel my pain. Instead, I made him suffer more than I ever did. I was only interested in Gigi so that I could torture Palmer, make him sweat a little, but I ended up befriending her out of guilt. And even that took a wrong turn, because Gigi became the only ever real friend I had. The one person who called me out.
Man up, Zach. Man up.
Walking out the front entrance, I walk straight and make a right at the intersection, bypassing my dorm. My footsteps feel heavy, my heart thunders in my chest, but my conscience feels lighter and lighter the nearer I get to the brownstone building nestled between a gas station and a fast-food joint.
Ravensfield Police Department in big bold letters hangs on top of an automatic glass door.
It’s a little too late, but no time like the present, Zach.
“I’d like to report a crime,” I say to the lady sitting in reception.
“What is this regarding?”
“I physically assaulted someone, threatened him, drugged him, and probably a bunch of other things…” I feel my hand shaking as I watch her eyes study me. Judging. Confused. Disgusted. “He was the guy who hung himself at the university.”
Recognition flashes on her face. I doubt that anyone forgot about Andrew in this town or in Marble Crest. What happened to him fed all the small towns in the area with enough whispers to last a lifetime.
“One second,” she says, sighing. “Let me get someone.”
As she walks away down the corridor, I replay a memory of the day Gigi and I became friends.
I shouldn’t be forgiven. I should pay for my sins. I tried to give myself a redemption arc by supporting Gigi as she navigated her new life, but I was never a hero. I just really badly wanted to be one.