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We laughed. Our friendship was based on a teenage philosophy that we had worked on in our teenage years. It basically centered on the understanding that life was mostly a crappy collection of miserable days.
It felt good to laugh with Zac. Some of the weight that had been bearing down on me, lifted. I was glad I’d come to see him.
“Sam’s back in my life.”
“College Sam?”
I nodded. “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you some time. But the short version is, he kissed me. And I… freaked.”
Zac looked past me, over my shoulder.
“This is the same guy who dumped you in college, said you weren’t good enough, getting in his way?”
I hated the way he summed it up. But he was right.
“Yup. He’s a big-time billionaire now,” I added, I don’t know why. It didn’t make a difference, did it?
“Of course, he is,” Zac said, with a touch of sarcasm. “I mean, you weren’t there to hold him back.”
I pulled a face.
“And you are what, confused?”
“I kissed him back,” I said.
Zac nodded again. He sat back, scratched his throat, ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t good-looking by any conventional standards, but I’d always liked his thoughtful, serious face. His gaze was always steady, and he thought about what he said. More importantly, he was a decent guy and completely reliable. His opinion mattered a lot to me.
“This guy is going to hurt you again,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. It was an unflinchingly direct stare and I found myself having to look away.
“Maybe. Yes.” I had to swallow.
“You think you can handle that again?”
I didn’t know how to answer that.
Zac shook his head.
“You think you can trust this guy?”
“You don’t think people can change?”
This was a question that had been weighing on my mind all day.
“I think people can change. If they really want to or if they are forced to.”
I thought of my father’s heart attack. My mother was told to cook healthy food and my father was cautioned to change his diet. It had been almost impossible for him to cut down on all his favorite treats, which invariably, were now considered bad for him. I remember how he’d sneak out for junk food after one of my mom’s fish dinners. She found out about it, and they had a mighty row. He dropped some pounds, but he could stand to lose a few more. It was a constant battle. My father had always had a sweet tooth and loved candy. He was trying to cut down by eating more fruit, but I knew he had various hiding places where one could find packets of M&Ms or candy bars.
“You still care about him,” Zac said.
I bit my lip. “I don’t want to.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
Zac gave one of his short laughs, almost like a snort.
“I mean, you’re going to see him again, right? Even if he’s bad for you? No matter what anyone says, right?”
