Page 61 of Dead Boys Club

“To another retreat for troubled teens,” Paige says absently. “Another place that they hope will fix him. He won’t say anything about the emails. They were fighting all night. Dad had to take the door off of his room again after he locked himself in.”

Zach’s head spins. “Those emails are… are months-old,” he tries to explain, desperate to get these words out that no one, so far, has listened to. “We wrote those emails before he told you about the first time. Before you confronted your parents, before therapy…”

Before Saratoga, before the play, before the kiss, before learning how Parker’s hand fit in his own, before sneaking away on New Year’s at midnight, before Bea and Isaac and Paige, before Halloween and all of the weekends they’ve spent together being teenagers, normal and stupid and alive.

“Paige, you have to believe me. We—we were, we were idiots, but…”

“You promised me,” Paige says sharply. “You promised there were no more secrets.”

“I know,” Zach replies, because he does, he does, he does. He tries not to cry but the tears come hot and fast. “I know, and I’m—I’m so fucking sorry, Paige. It’s just that… telling someone meant telling on myself. It meant—it meant admitting that I… that I tried to—”

Paige’s face falls open in slow realization, then crumbles before she looks away. She hiccups and scrubs her wrist across her face. “Fuck,” she breathes. “Zach.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Zach whispers. “No one was supposed to find out.”

“But you—” Paige pauses, unable to say the words. He can’t blame her. Telling her the truth opens something up in Zach’s perpetually tight chest. He can’t tell if it feels good or not. Maybe somewhere in the middle. Carrying these secrets had been impossible. There’s almost a relief in no longer having to lie even if telling the truth hurts in its own way.

The senior parking lot is almost entirely empty now. The sun dips down behind an overcast sky, and a wet snowfall starts to cover the windshield. They sit together in the warmth of the car, sniffling and crying and staring ahead.

“I should go,” Zach whispers.

Paige exhales slowly, rubbing her nose. “Let me drive you home at least,” she says, voice a little dull. “You’ll freeze like that.”

Paige pulls out of the parking lot. The drive to Zach’s house is both too long and not long enough, and Zach struggles to come up with something to say. Anything that might fix this. When Paige pulls into his driveway, the house is empty and dark.

Before he gets out, Zach looks across the car at Paige. “Don’t let your parents send Parker to Vermont,” he says.

Paige exhales a mirthless laugh. “I’ll do my best,” she says.

“And don’t let Parker, like, get himself sent to Vermont,” Zach adds. Paige snorts. They both know it’s a tall order.

“I’m still mad at you,” she says.

“Yeah,” Zach whispers. “Um, you should be, probably.”

“But…” Paige sighs, slumping back in her seat. “I don’t know. My brother has always been a nightmare. But he’s, like, better now.” She pauses for a moment, then adds, “Things are still… I mean, every week at therapy sucks in its own way, but… I don’t know. I can’t remember the last time I’d seen Parker happy before you. You brought him out of this really dark place he’s been in for a long time.”

This pain is nothing compared to what Zach had felt when she was screaming at him in the parking lot. It’s different—sweeter—but it still hurts.

“We all did,” Zach says earnestly. “You, Isaac, and Bea…”

Paige laughs, rubbing the last of her tears off her cheeks. “Yeah, but I think he likes you best.”

Zach exhales a slightly hysterical laugh too. He nods, reaching across the center console. He grabs her hand, and Paige laces their fingers together. He squeezes hard until she squeezes back.

“And you all brought me out of a dark place too,” Zach says. Paige looks down at their hands, nodding.

“I’m really glad you’re still alive,” Paige says in a whisper. Zach’s heart thumps hard.

“Me too. And I’m going to fix this,” he says softly. “I promise.”

- - - - -

Parker doesn’t return to school the next day either. Zach catches Paige in the hall between periods, and all she can tell him is that Parker is not in Vermont. Isaac and Bea descend on Zach during lunch, armed to the teeth with questions. Where’s Parker? Why is Paige mad at you? What’s going on? Is everything okay?

Zach doesn’t know what to say. He sits, stomach empty, heart in his throat, and stares at the fake wood of the lunch table, curling his fingers into knots.

“Parker and I—” Zach says. He starts and stops again and again. He can’t say it. Not here, not in the middle of the cafeteria, like it’s any other gossip.