Page 6 of All the Broken Pieces: Vol. 3

Chapter 6

Are we really doing this? I stare at the phone for a moment and feel worry pinching my brow. Intentionally hurling myself into emotionally bloody waters seems like the height of stupidity, but it feels like there could be closure there. Maybe that’s the problem. I know it’s an issue for Tim. How important is it to actually say good-bye? Never saying it put me in a loop of grief and misery.

I’ll go. I’ll say it. I’ll mean it. And when I leave that island, I’m moving forward. No more living in the past. No more looking backwards and mourning what could have been.

I stand and push in the desk chair. My gaze lifts to the computer screen as it refreshes the feed just before the screensaver kicks on.

That picture. Of Zach. It’s there.

A shiver licks my spine as I jab a key to bring the screen back to life. This is it. The picture will be there. I will be able to see once and for all that it’s not Zach.

The pixels flare to life and the forms on the screen take shape. The same photo appears. I lean in closer. The crooked smirk, the piercing blue eyes and dark tousled hair, narrow hips, square jaw covered in stubble, and a sun-kissed shirtless body that’s leaner than I’d ever seen it.

I’m not breathing. It can’t be him, but it is.

It’s Zach.

My hands are shaking. Last time this happened the picture vanished and I couldn’t show anyone. I can barely think now, but I manage to grab my cell phone and lift it to snap a picture. Then I take three more. I put the phone down, feeling more certain the image won’t vanish for good this time, and sit back down on the desk chair.

There’s a scar on the side of his body, a place that the golden tan doesn’t touch, a jagged line from mid-rib that disappears below the waistband of his shorts.

When was this taken? It can’t be Zach, but his name is on the picture. It’s on his profile page. I don’t understand.

Aleigha, from my class, said I could pull data from the picture, find out when it was taken and where. After opening another window, I Google how to do it. Then I flip back to the Facebook screen and click the image to enlarge it, but the picture disappears before my screen goes black.

“No. No, no, no.” I hit the back button, but the picture is gone. “What the hell is happening?”

I slam my fists on the desktop and resist the urge to throw the thing across the room. Think, Abby. Think.

I pull up Zach’s Facebook page.

No picture.

It’s the same as before. I don’t understand. His name was above the picture.

Worry pinches and twists my insides until I feel sick. By the time I reach for my phone, I think I’m going crazy and imagined it, but I didn’t. The images are there, and ZACH SABBA is there in capital letters.

I need a nerd. This has to be happening for a reason. There’s no way this picture appeared and disappeared like this without a reason. Zach can’t be alive. I buried him. I know it. Even if that image is making me wonder. It’s more likely K’Teal is right. Someone is fucking with me.