Page 127 of Remember Us This Way

“What do you mean apparently?” I demand, throwing myself into my car and kicking over the engine, barely giving it a second before slamming it into gear and hitting the gas. “Where the fuck were you when this happened?”

The call switches over to the car’s Bluetooth, and Hope’s voice sails through my speakers. “I was too busy beating the shit out of Tarni,” she tells me. “I got her good too. Think I gave her a black eye. It was fucking amazing. She won’t be a problem anymore.”

I scoff. Tarni will cease being a problem only when I’m personally through with her. “Just tell me Zoey is okay.”

“I think so,” she says. “I haven’t been able to talk to her personally, but from what I understand, Principal Daniels found her in the parking lot and took her to the nurse, and then they called the ambulance. But apparently that was only for precaution. The lady in the student office said she was okay, but . . . I don’t know. Apart from when she was having her chemo, I’ve never seen her so exhausted.”

“Fuck. Okay,” I say, trying to calm myself. “I’m two hours away, an hour and a half if I’m fast. If they let you in to see her, let me know how she’s doing.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten.”

Hope ends the call, and I try Zoey’s cell but get nothing. I dial her mom next and check in. She tells me just about as much as Hope did, but unlike Hope, she’s actually been allowed to speak to Zoey, which goes a long way in calming my fears.

It’s almost an hour into my drive back to East View when my phone rings again, but this time, it’s Zoey’s name on the screen, and I quickly answer the call. “Babe?”

“I’m okay,” Zoey says in a small voice as if she’s already preparing for me to blow up.

“Zo, what the fuck?”

“I thought I could make it,” she says, her voice cracking, and fuck, I can just imagine the tears in her eyes as her voice wobbles.

“Zo, you’re fighting an aggressive cancer that’s trying to kill you,” I tell her bluntly. “I know you wanted some form of normalcy for your birthday, but you’re not normal. You don’t get to have normal right now, not until you’re better.”

She silently weeps on the other end, and I immediately feel like a dick.

“I’m on my way, okay?” I tell her. “Fuck, I need to hold you.”

“They’re discharging me soon,” she tells me. “Can you meet me at my place? Mom is going to drive me home.”

“Whatever you need, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” she finally says. “It was stupid. I shouldn’t have gone to school, but I just—”

“You don’t need to be sorry, Zo. I shouldn’t have said that just now. I just hate this happened and I wasn’t there for you,” I tell her. “You fucking scared me, babe. When Hope called—”

“Hope was just scared. She overreacted,” she says. “Besides, if I wasn’t an idiot and used all my energy like that, I would have been okay. I just panicked and didn’t know what to do, so I ran, and I—I thought I was going to make it.”

“As long as you’re good now,” I tell her, though I say it for myself, needing to repeat the words a million times over. “You’re okay.”

“I am. I—shit. I have to go. The doctor is back to discharge me,” she says. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“You got it, Zo,” I murmur. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she says before ending the call and leaving me gasping for air. I white-knuckle the steering wheel all the way back into East View, only able to focus on the road simply because I know Zoey is safe with her mom, back at home, and hopefully tucked in bed.

The drive feels as though it takes a lifetime, and as I speed through the very streets my brother was killed on, I find myself passing Tarni Luca’s home. Her car is in the driveway, along with her friend’s Lexus. I can never remember the names of the girls she hangs out with, but they were all shitty friends to Zoey when she needed them most.

Before I know what I’m doing, I hit the brakes and pull up over the curb, my Camaro screeching to a halt and tearing up her father’s pristine lawn. The anger is like nothing I’ve ever known as I push my way out of my car and storm up to the front door.

I don’t knock, don’t stop to check who’s home, simply bring my foot up and kick down the fucking door, breaking right through the lock. The door violently swings open, and as I cross the threshold, I hear the terrified screams of the girls coming from inside.

I follow the sound, my hands in tight fists at my side, and I walk through to find Tarni and her two sheep hovering around the kitchen island. Their eyes are wide and filled with terror, gaping at me as though I’m an ax-wielding serial killer ready to turn them into a statistic. And honestly, the idea sounds intriguing. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Zoey, but despite how I feel about these girls, she wouldn’t want that. She’s too fucking pure for her own good.

Recognizing me, they all let out heavy sighs of relief, one of the friends placing a kitchen knife back on the counter and shaking out her hand as though she was clutching it with a death grip, but my venomous stare remains locked on Tarni.

She gapes at me, knowing damn well this isn’t about to go her way.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she demands, trying to find courage, but she won’t find it, not here. “You broke my door.”

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