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“What do you mean, what do I mean?” I say, hysterically. “Did you just ask me to live with you?”
“Well, yes. As I said, the apartment’s got a lot of room.”
“A lot of room. Right.” Shaking my head, I look at the ground and gather myself. “Why do you have a job? Why do you have an apartment?”
“I can’t stay at the motel forever. Where do you suggest I sleep?”
I throw my hands up. “In New York. You have all these things in New York. An apartment. A job that you told me you liked and that you’re good at. Your life’s in New York.”
Throwing me a lopsided smile, he shrugs. “I don’t have anything there that’s not replaceable. And I told you.”
“Told me what?”
The chilly breeze ruffles his spiky hair as he says, “You’re my life.”
His words have more of an impact this time. Maybe because now I can see what he means by it. He’s showing me by re-arranging his life around me.
They hit me right in the gut and the butterflies go crazy. I feel their razor-sharp wings flapping, making everything bleed inside of me.
I wrap my arms around my waist, trying to quiet them down. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Why won’t you leave me alone?”
There’s a slight flush on his harsh cheekbones. I think it’s courtesy of the colder weather here. And he’s not even wearing a sweater.
I don’t know why I’m thinking about that when something much more important is at stake.
“Because I don’t want you to be alone. Or afraid,” he says with a clench in his jaw.
“I am not alone,” I blurt out, looking up at him.
We’ve been standing a few inches apart from each other but while talking, we moved closer. I can feel his body heat, his smell, enveloping me, stopping the shivers brought on by the weather.
“What?”
I lick my lips. “I found a guy.”
“A guy.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “He came to the diner yesterday. Sat in my section. He told me that I was beautiful and when I said that I was new in town, he offered to show me around. So we’re going out this weekend.”
It’s a lie. Obviously.
And even telling it is making me want to throw up but I have to say it.
Zach’s standing here, all taut and flushed with the cold. His black eyes watch me carefully.
“Are you going to ruin my date?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
The vein on the side of his neck pulses. “Do you want me to ruin your date?”
I step closer for some reason, bringing the toes of our boots flush together.
“No.” I shake my head once, boring into his eyes. “You want to watch me, right? You won’t leave me alone. So I want you to watch me on my date. I want you to watch me as someone else makes me smile. Makes me laugh. As someone else holds my hand, kisses me goodnight at the end of the night. I want you to watch all of that, Zach.”
His nostrils flare and the color on his sharp cheekbones deepens. I think it’s from anger, rather than the cold.
