Page 6 of Dead Boys Club

Paige looks up at the sound, thumbnail between her teeth, familiar knot between her brows. He’s seen that exact look on Parker’s face.

Zach stares at Paige. He stares for maybe a second too long, because the confusion on her face starts to sour to annoyance. His stomach starts to cramp.

“Hhh—hi,” Zach says. He steps closer, moving his hands to grip at the strap of his backpack. “Um, hi. Paige?” It comes out like a question.

Paige’s face smooths, and she smiles in a way that’s tight all around the eyes. “Hi, Zach.” She drops her hand, rubbing her thumb against the leg of her jeans instead.

This close, Zach can see how brown Paige’s eyes are. They’re so different than Parker’s eyes. They’re both the same color for one. But they’re also so brown they look like little dark cups of black coffee. He doesn’t think he’s ever gotten this close to her, not even in the eighth grade.

“Hi,” Zach says again.

There’s a pause, then Paige says, “Hi?”

He’s so bad at this. Zach tries not to kick himself.

When was the last time he had a real conversation with Paige Reid? Maybe never. They’ve never even been paired up in a group project before.

“Right,” Zach breathes, gripping the straps of his backpack tighter. “Right, I mean—yeah, yes. Sorry. Hi. Sorry, this is weird, this is… I—I mean…” The words stumble over each other, and he forces himself to stop and take a breath while Paige watches him, her expression slowly crumbling into more and more confusion. “I just think, well, your brother—”

Paige’s tight smile immediately drops, and her shoulders roll forward a little, like she’s trying to defend herself against a physical blow. “Did Parker do something?”

Zach clears his throat, which is suddenly so filled with phlegm it feels hard to speak. “I—what? No!” he says quickly. “I just—I think, maybe…”

“What did he do?” Paige asks, crossing her arms tight around her middle. “I’m not his babysitter, you know. Did he push you or something? Yell at you?”

“No!” Zach says, lifting his hands and waving them a little. “No—he didn’t… He didn’t do anything, but… I think, um, I think maybe—”

Paige turns her focus onto something over Zach’s shoulder. Reaching down to grab her backpack, she gently steps around him, and Zach turns on the spot, watching as she approaches Parker, who is heading their way down the hall. His head is ducked, but he lifts his face when Paige reaches him. She grabs her brother by the arm, dragging him along behind her as she marches toward the doors.

“Your second day back and you’re already causing problems?” Paige snaps, looking up at Parker, her expression fuming. Zach edges backward, out of the way.

“I literally don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Parker says, frowning down at his sister.

When they pass by on their way out the door, Parker glances at Zach. Not like he’d known Zach was there, more like he’d looked at him by accident. Which is probably how most people end up looking at him. He’s just, like, there—a background character in their periphery. Zach meets Parker’s eyes.

Paige pushes open the door, and a rush of humid air sucks its way into the hall. She doesn’t stop to say anything to Zach, doesn’t pause to say bye. It’s like she’s entirely forgotten they were having a conversation.

“Mom and Dad aren’t going to let me do anything if I have to keep…” But Paige’s voice is swallowed by the sound of the door clanging shut after them. He doesn’t get to know what Paige has to keep doing, or what that might have to do with Parker.

Zach’s heart scrabbles like a terrified rabbit. He presses one hand against his sternum, breathing unevenly. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t get the words out. Parker wants to kill himself, wants Zach and him to do it together, and he couldn’t even tell Paige.

What if Parker goes home and tries again? Like, tonight? The thought circles Zach’s head. What other ways are there, even? Zach doesn’t know because Zach does not think about this stuff. Not really. Just the train tracks. And just the one time. Or two times. It’s fine.

Zach is struggling to get more air into his closing throat when a heavy hand claps on his back.

“Hey,” Isaac says. Zach turns to look, overly aware that he is maybe sweatier and redder in the face than normal. “Are you good?”

Isaac looks genuinely concerned, which makes Zach want to laugh at the absurdity. He struggles around a swallow, his mouth sticky with saliva. “Yeah,” Zach says after a moment, then repeats, “yeah.”

Isaac’s face scrunches up a little. “You need a ride home?” he asks. Zach always needs a ride home. He wants to tell Isaac to quit asking like he’s hoping Zach will one day say no.

The problem is, he suddenly feels like he might actually throw up all over Isaac’s car if he gets in. If he has to sit and think for even one more moment about Parker and what he said in the empty classroom, he might have a heart attack. At least then he wouldn’t have to deal with this. He won’t have to figure out what to say to Paige, or if he should tell an adult. He could just have a heart attack and drop dead, and all of this would be over with.

“I can walk,” Zach says, surprising himself. It’s a long walk, but not one he hasn’t made before. He could catch the bus, maybe, but then he might throw up in public, thinking about whether or not he needs to warn someone about Parker.

Isaac looks taken aback, his brows nearly disappearing into his hairline. “Wait, really?” he asks. “You—dude, since when?”

“Um.” Zach scrubs one hand against his face. “I, um—I don’t feel good.”