Twenty-Five
ZAK
It’s the silence that’s going to get to me.
In a smaller apartment like most of the ones I’ve been in, it would feel like the walls are closing in.
But here, in Owen’s condo, they’re far enough apart that I don’t get that sensation.
Especially since one wall is completely glass.
If anything, I feel like the building is swaying.
That’s a thing. I looked it up. Buildings do sway in the wind! !
It’s terrifying to think about. Is it going to topple over with one big gust? Will the entire row of condos and other tall buildings fall like dominos?
Sure, that’s not how buildings fall. And I know that there’s a lot of engineering that went into every building within the city to prevent that very thing.
But I’ve never lived so high from the ground before.
As long as I’m not looking straight down, it’s not quite so terrifying.
When I do look down, all I can think about is falling.
But looking straight out is mesmerizing. The city almost looks enchanting. Like around every corner, down every street, you’re being transported to a brand new city. The shops change in atmosphere. The people walking about change shape and diversity. Even the sky looks different down every street.
Who knew I had such an imagination?
Thankfully, I’m able to begin my GED program.
It’s a relief and exhilarating. Not because it’s fun and interesting, but because I feel like I’ve waited ages to get to this point.
When I dropped out of high school, it never occurred to me that it would be so hard to finish what I started.
If I had known, I wonder if I would have figured out a way to stick it out.
Part of me thinks I would have. If I’d just gotten my high school diploma, maybe my life would have been different. Maybe I’d be further ahead. I wouldn’t have fought so hard not to move in with Gravity because I might have a job.
Another part of me thinks that my life has been a series of shitty cards, and I was always going to end up right where I did.
My mother dying really set everything in motion.
The world lost some of its color that day and continued to become more and more monochrome.
It’s going to sound stupidly cliché and yucky, but I hadn’t seen the world in such bright vivid shades until Owen stepped into my life.
It started with amazing sex. He fucked the color back into my life. No, seriously, I think that’s accurate. Every time we ran into each other after, I was filled with bright color. Like seeing the world with new eyes. And then the world would dim again when I left him.
Owen gives me hope. I realized that as soon as I saw him in the limo.
Until that moment, I hadn’t recognized the feeling as it took over, making it stupidly hard to breathe.
Hoping is dangerous when you have nothing and can be let down.
It was fear that made me refuse to go home with him again.
Fear that the hope I felt would take over and eventually, it would crush me.
But he’s a very persistent man. So kind and sweet and… here I am. In his home with his laptop on my lap, trying to concentrate on this boring shit so I can get on track and make something of myself. I want to make my mom proud.
Tears sting my eyes at the thought that she’d be so ashamed of what I’d done with my life this far.
With a deep breath through my mouth, I push those thoughts aside. I will make her proud. I’m getting there. Now I have IDs and I’m going to get my GED. Then I’ll figure out a job and… maybe college? Would she have wanted that for me?
“No more,” I mutter. I can’t keep thinking of my mom. I’ve already broken a dam and bawled disgustingly all over Owen, but he’d been here to hold me in my moment of freak out. He’s not right now and I’m terrified of what might happen if I break down when I’m all alone.
So, no thinking of my mom. Back to this boring ass shit.
No wonder it was such an easy decision to leave high school.
I hate this. Who cares about Columbus and the rosy colored lens history books paint?
He didn’t discover America. There were people here before Europeans ‘discovered’ this land and we stole it from them.
American history is filled with ugly truths. Truths that are purposefully kept from the history books that are taught. Edgar is obsessed with documentaries, so I’ve seen enough horrors to know that what I’m reading is only a hint of what actually happened.
My mind wanders to the place in my drawer where I keep all my forms of personal identification and my cash.
It’s right there in the open, on the left side of my underwear drawer.
Clear as day for anyone to see if they opened the drawer.
It’s not that I’m trying to hide them, but what else am I supposed to do with them?
Except take them out and look at them frequently.
Having these items I’ve always been without feels like such a luxury.
I’ve waited so long for them and finally, I have them in my possession.
It’s such a simple thing that people take for granted, but to me, they’re valuable.
They’re my identity in the most basic sense of the word.
Who would have thought you’d need little cards to prove you are who you are? That’s the world we live in now.
This pattern lasts through three days and by the fourth morning of Owen being away, I think I’m going to rip my hair out.
So I do what Owen suggests—invite my friends over.
I text them early in the morning, knowing that they all probably have work or kids or something.
I’m stupidly excited when all three of my friends agree. Even Clarinda.
They promise to be over this afternoon. To pass the time, I do some reading for school, clean the house—not that it needs cleaning—throw in a load of laundry and put it away when it’s done. Then I look through the cabinets and try to find some snacks for us.
When there’s still an hour left before they’re set to arrive, I head up to the roof and sit under the heating element to look out at the city.
Traffic and city noises just barely reach me up here.
I don’t think it’s because I’m so far away, but because even on the least breezy day, there’s wind in my ears up here.
There’s a kind of beauty in the city. Even without a ton of green spaces. Even with the gray skies. Even with the streets covered in gross, dirty slush and trash. All of that creates a kind of ambiance and you get the feeling like… the city is a beautiful machine. Moving. Always moving.
This time I remembered to bring my phone with me, so I’m trading texts with Owen periodically.
I send him a picture of the city view from where I’m perched when he asks what I’m doing, and receive three big smiley faces back.
I’m not sure why the picture makes him so happy, but I grin in return.
Maybe he enjoys the view too. Maybe he senses the magic in the city.
Ten to three, I head back inside and take another look around.
Is anything out of place? Owen isn’t exactly a minimalist, but there’s not a lot here, either.
There are personal touches here and there, like a couple large photographs on the walls and his curtains that are always wide open are kind of vibrant.
Otherwise, it’s a fairly neutral color pallet. I could do so much with this room if I had some fabric. And, you know, he’d let me. Maybe he wouldn’t want me to.
The ringer by the door goes off and I practically fall in my haste to get to it. I examine the keypad for a minute, realizing I have no idea how to answer it. I push the button that says ‘call’ and say, “Yes? Hello?”
God, I feel like a bumbling idiot.
“Mr. Ashland, you have three visitors—Gravity Elliott, Clarinda Hennessy, and Edgar Hastings. Would you like them to be let in?”
I sigh and nod. “Yes, please.”
That was the gate. It only occurs to me now that they called I hadn’t known how to get visitors in. That could have been very embarrassing.
I wait by the door, practically bouncing on my feet for them. This is just what I need to pass the time until Owen comes home tomorrow afternoon. My friends to entertain me and make me stop thinking.
Another buzzer from the panel makes me jump since I’m standing right next to it. I hit the call button again. “Yes?”
“Let us in, Zak!” Gravity says.
I grin and examine the panel a minute more before deciding the green button must work the door. I hold it for a few seconds and then release it. That’s what Gravity’s does. He’s shown me how to use it when he was going out for a job, but Edgar was on his way over.
Again, I wait. This time, it’s a knock on the door and I’m grinning so fucking wide when I pull it open. My friends are smiling back and engulf me in their arms as soon as I throw it open.
“Damn, honey pot. This place is swanky,” Edgar says.
I laugh. “Wait till you see the roof. I’ve never seen a view like that.”
“It beats this big window?” Clarinda asks as she peers around me with wide eyes.
“Believe it or not, yes.”
She lets out a low whistle, shaking her head. “Color me impressed.”
“Come in already.” I step back and shut the door, throwing the lock because I always lock the door. I’m not very trusting. They strip from their jackets and shoes and follow me inside.
While the condo is big as far as New York goes, it’s still pretty condensed to a point where you can see the entire area from the central location. I stand there and point. “Kitchen and dining, bathroom there. Down the hall are the bedrooms. And this is the living room.”
“Bedrooms?” Edgar asks, looking down the hall. “Plural?”
I nod. “Yep. Three. The primary, a guest room, and I guess we can call the third room a personal room? Office maybe.”
“That’s fucking cool. I’ve never been in a three-bedroom apartment in the city,” Edgar says.
We all look at him.
“You live in a four bedroom,” Clarinda reminds him.