Chapter 6

6

JASON

After that first time on the Fourth of July, Zach and I started running together several times a week. It was nice to have a running partner who kept me accountable. Sometimes, we ran in companionable silence, and others, we chatted about whatever was on our minds. It was comfortable and easy.

At least it was easy most of the time. Every so often, Zach rolled in like a thundercloud. Those were the days he ran with an almost inhuman determination. He'd set out at a punishing pace, and I'd spend the next thirty minutes trying to keep up with him. He never spoke about what set him off, but based on what he'd told me earlier in the summer, I assumed it was something to do with his dad.

It was a cloudy morning in late July when I met Zach on the path at the lake just a few minutes late. I hadn't been able to find one of my shoes and it had taken me longer than usual to get out the door. I'd sent Zach a text letting him know the situation, but he hadn't responded, so I'd just headed over and hoped for the best.

The expression on his face was thunderous, unlike anything I'd seen from him before. "Hey, man. Sorry, I'm late. I?—"

"It's whatever. Let's just go." He turned and started running without waiting for a response.

My heart clutched. He might have been irritated by my tardiness, but I was sure this was something else. Something was bothering him and I hated seeing him so upset. Hoping the run might burn off his foul mood, I followed him.

Temperatures were cooler this morning, dipping below seventy for the first time in weeks, but the humidity was still high, and with the clouds dark and heavy above us, I figured we were due for a storm. Sweat trickled down my back as we pounded the pavement, the pace he set relentless.

I focused on my breathing, trying to maintain a steady rhythm, but after the first two miles, I fell behind. I didn't ask him to stop, figuring he needed to continue chasing his demons, but I did slow to a more reasonable pace, keeping him in my sights.

Eventually, he stopped and stood in the middle of the path with his arms resting on top of his head, staring me down until I reached him. I bent over, resting my hands on my knees, taking in big gulps of air as I willed my heart rate to come down. My stamina had significantly improved over the last several weeks of running, but not for the pace he had set this morning.

Three fat raindrops landed on the pavement in front of me, and for a moment, I thought they were drops of sweat, but when I felt a couple more land on my neck and arms, I knew we were about to be caught. Before I could react, the skies opened up. We ran for the closest cluster of trees, but it was too late. We were soaked to the bone in seconds, though standing under the trees did offer some protection, softening the sting of the raindrops that had been pelting us out in the open.

"This fucking sucks," Zach said through gritted teeth, and I thought he wasn't just talking about getting caught in the rain. He turned and leaned against the rough bark of the oak tree next to him, tilting his head back with his eyes closed and letting the rain wash down his face.

I stood awkwardly facing him, unsure what to do. Pain and anger radiated off him. It was in his tone of voice, his posture, the way he'd carried himself since I'd met him on the trail this morning. I wanted to help him, to take some of it away, but I didn't know the cause. Didn't know if he'd let me in. He'd given me a few glimpses of his personal life, but we mostly kept it to the superficial stuff. He seemed more comfortable that way.

I was about to ask if he wanted to talk about whatever was bothering him when his face crumpled and a small sob escaped. I took a step closer, unsure what to do, but without warning, he launched himself at me, burying his head in my chest as his body shook with sobs. My arms came around him automatically, and I held him while he clutched my wet T-shirt in his fists.

I don't know how long we stood like that, my hands rubbing his back while he cried, but by the time he was finished, the rain was too. Or at least it had faded to nothing more than a steady sprinkle.

He pulled away, hastily swiping at his eyes and nose, looking at the ground and refusing to meet my eyes.

"I'm sorry. That was… I don't know what that was."

I put my hand on his shoulder, and he finally looked at me. "It's okay to have feelings. You don't have to apologize."

"I should probably tell you today is the anniversary of my mom's passing."

Damn . The pain in his words sliced through me, making my heart ache for him. I'd wondered about his mom but figured he'd tell me about her when he was ready.

"Man, I'm so sorry. That's…that's gotta be so hard."

He shrugged and nodded at the same time in an awkward gesture, like he couldn't decide how he felt about it all.

"Can we walk? I think it would be easier to talk about it if we're walking."

"Sure, though you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. You don't owe me an explanation."

"I don't talk about it with anyone, really, at least not here in Astaire. Everyone knew at my old school, and I got tired of people treating me differently, so I didn't really tell anyone after we moved." His eyes were piercing as they met mine. "But I want to tell you."

Speechless that he'd trust me with something he was usually so private with, I nodded, and we made our way back to the path, turning toward the parking lot.

"Two years ago, my mom was killed in a car accident. It wasn't even late at night. It was the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday as she was coming home from the grocery store.

"My family—we were already somewhat dysfunctional, but my mom was the glue that held us together. She ran interference between my dad and us when he was riding our asses about school or sports or whatever. One look from her, and he'd lay off. He always had a soft spot for her. No matter my father's faults, I never doubted how much he loved her."

He kicked a pebble as we walked, then shifted his gaze to some spot in the distance, lost in memory. I didn't say anything, just kept walking by his side, giving him the space to continue whenever he was ready.

"Things got really bad after that. Dad was unbearable. Barely spoke to us, and when he did, it was usually to pick at us for something. Drea fell into a depression and stopped eating. Lost a ton of weight. And I was so buried in my own shit that I didn't even notice.

"Thankfully, that Thanksgiving, my Aunt Amy insisted on hosting us for dinner and pulled my father aside and told him to pull his head out of his ass and pay attention to what was going on. Drea started seeing a therapist and started eating again. She still struggles from time to time, but she's learned to recognize when she's slipping and needs to talk to her therapist.

"Oh God." He stopped in his tracks, putting his hand on my elbow to stop me. "You can't say anything to your sister. And don't tell Drea you know either. She'd kill me if she knew I'd said anything."

"It's fine. I won't say anything. I wouldn't do that to you. Or her."

He relaxed, his shoulders slumping in relief, though he still radiated sadness.

"I miss her. I miss my mom so much I can't breathe sometimes. But when everything fell apart, I was the one who picked up the slack. I made sure Drea had what she needed for school. I helped her with her homework and drove her to dance classes. Eventually, Dad started stepping up—probably because Aunt Amy threatened to kick his ass if he didn't—but he's been such an asshole, I sometimes wish he would stay away."

"I'm sorry. I can't imagine how hard it's been for you."

"I just want her back. I want to be able to call her from college and tell her how it's going. I want to fight with her about what color sheets I want for my dorm room. I want to know that when I leave next week, Drea will be taken care of."

"I can look out for Drea if you want. I won't make it weird or anything. I'll just keep an eye on her. She's always hanging with my sister anyway."

"Thanks. That'd be…nice."

"I know it's not the same as you being here, but it's something. And I'm here for you too. Whenever you want to talk."

We stopped at the edge of the parking lot and faced each other. "I feel kind of weird about what happened back there. I don't think I've ever lost it like that."

"Maybe it was time you did."

"Yeah, maybe." He pushed his soggy hair off his face. "Anyway, thanks."

"Anytime."

"Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah, though, maybe I'll check the weather first."

He chuckled, and my chest squeezed at the sound. "Catch ya later, Whitt."

He turned back down the path and I called out to stop him. "Do you want me to give you a ride?" I looked up at the sky, still gray with heavy clouds. From here, his house was almost on the other side of the lake.

"Nah. I think I'd like to take a walk in the rain."