Page 58 of Zachary

I must have done something. I just don’t know what.

Asher’s bedroom door flies open, and Garrett’s tousled head pokes out, an annoyed expression on his face. “Whatever the fuck crawled up your ass, can you pace somewhere else? Some of us are trying to sleep. It’s a work night. I have to deal with children in the morning, Zac.Children. Do you know how much energy children have? I needrest, not you thumping back and forth like an elephant.” His head disappears, the door slams, and I cringe.

Note to self: Garrett gets grumpy when his sleep’s disturbed.

I’m not achieving anything here, anyway. I can’t think of what I might’ve done to have caused this change in Ronan. Maybe he’s talked about it with his friends? I eye Asher’s door. Ronan and Garrett have gotten pretty close. I could ask… but not right now. Garrett’s unlikely to be receptive to questions at this precise moment.

Maybe one of Ronan’s other friends would be?

I tiptoe into my room, close the door, and grab my phone. I know I have her number…

Hey, are you still up?

It’s an agonizingly long two minutes before her answer pops up.

Zoe:

Yeah. Everything okay?

I don’t bother to text, just call her.

“Zac? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Ronan,” I blurt, and she gasps.

“Is he injured? Where are you? I’m on my way!”

Fuck.

“No, Zoe, he’s fine. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s fine.”

Her shaky breath makes me feel like the worst kind of scum. “You’re an asshole and I hate you,” she says finally, but there’s no heat in it. “Why are you calling, then?”

I hesitate. She’s Ronan’s friend—would she really tell me if he was losing interest in me?

“Zac,” she warns.

“Has Ronan said anything about me? About… about not wanting to be with me?”

Her laugh is ridiculously reassuring. “Are you high or something? Taken a paranoid pill?”

“So that’s a no, then.”

“Of course it’s a fucking no. Did you seriously call me this late to ask such a stupid question? Ronan’s batshit crazy in love with you. Any idiot can see that.”

Doubt sets in. Could I be imagining it? Maybe I’m just overreacting?

Then I remember the almost cheerful way he stood up tonight when I said I had to go, the way he gave me an almost perfunctory kiss and then stood back with an expression of “off you go.” It’s such a far cry from the way he clung to me for “one more kiss” last week that I can’t dismiss it.

“There’s more to this than just insecurity, isn’t there?” Zoe huffs in resignation. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I do, feeling stupid the whole time. I like Zoe, but she’s closer to Ronan than to me. This isn’t the kind of conversation we’d normally have. I don’t know who else to talk about this with who might actually have some insight, though, so I swallow my pride and bare my soul.

She takes her time to process it all. “I really want to say you’re overreacting,” she says finally. “Like… he could be preoccupied with something. When’s your birthday? Maybe he’s planning a gift.”

“January.”

“Probably not that, then. Look… you know I’m his friend first, right? I mean I know you and I were friends first, but he’s—”

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