Free Falling
Page 39

I shrugged noncommittally. “I thought it was Sandy, but…”
Understanding crossed his face. “Ahh, now I get the reason behind the fight the other day. You said something about her poisoning your dog,” he muttered. “Did you really think it was her?”
“Yep,” I answered. “So now I have no clue. The police obviously have no leads either because they arrested you,” I added, rolling my eyes.
A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve never really had anyone believe in me before. Only ever Olivia,” he mused, seeming a little taken aback by it. “The police were going on and on. They didn’t really want to let me go I don’t think, but they’re just trying to pin it on someone. I guess someone like me fits the bill pretty nicely.” His tone was harsh, hurt, and full of annoyance.
I chewed on my lip, trying to read his expression to see whether I should say this or not or if he would be angry with me for bringing it up. I decided just to go for it, I could always apologise if I upset him. “They said you had previous history…” I trailed off, wincing because I was prying into something that was clearly none of my business and he was perfectly within his rights to tell me to butt out of it.
His eyes flicked up to meet mine before dropping back down to the table. “Yeah I do.” I held my breath, hoping he would continue. He sighed, massaging the back of his neck roughly. “I used to be… different. Before I discovered parkour I was a mess. You see, I have ADHD which basically means that I have too much energy and no concentration span. I get bored really easily, especially when structure is involved, so school is kind of hard for me. Because I was acting up in class I got myself a bit of a reputation, and because of that I fell in with a bad crowd. One thing led to another, and I did a lot of stuff that I’m not proud of. I can’t ever get rid of that past unfortunately, so I guess they see a kid with a bad rap sheet with his fingerprints in the scene of a crime and automatically I’m guilty.”
I gulped, taken aback by all of that information. “You have ADHD?” That explained a lot actually.
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m on medication for it and stuff, but sometimes I get a little… over the top. That’s why I run and exercise a lot. It seems to calm me down. My condition is also why I have to graduate this year so I can prove to the film producers that I can stay on track and be committed to something,” he explained. “Oh, and apparently I have an attitude problem and dislike authority too, but that’s common with ADHD sufferers.”
I gulped, unsure what to say. “Oh.”
A grin split his face. “Yeah, I only ever told one person, and that was his reaction too,” he mused.
“I just don’t know much about the condition so…” I trailed off, looking at him apologetically.
He shrugged. “It’s a genetic thing. My dad actually had it too. He was worse than me though because he refused to stay on his tablets.”
I looked at him curiously, wondering how to word this next question. “Why do you always talk about your dad in the past tense? Is he,” I winced, “has he died?”
Zach frowned, nodding and looking down at my ankle again, adjusting the cold compress probably just for something to do. “Yeah. He killed himself a couple of years ago,” he confirmed. Inwardly I groaned at that information, overcome by a wave of compassion. “My mom didn’t cope too well when he died, so she turned to drink. I guess me being trouble all the time made that worse too. When I was seventeen she told me to leave. I was still going through a bad phase then, but Olivia took me in and saw something in me that no one else saw. I owe her a lot.”
All of these revelations made me understand Zach and his attitude just that little bit more. His condition and his parents abandoning him one way or another was probably the reason that he put on that cocky, rude act in a bid to try and keep everyone else away from him. Maybe it was why he’d once told me that he didn’t date. The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Is that why you said that you wouldn’t want a girl to fall in love with you?” I asked.
His eyes flicked up to meet mine, a bewildered, shocked expression on his face as if he hadn’t expected me to remember that he’d said that once when we were sat in my bedroom. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t want to inflict this disease on someone else. My mom went through hell every time my dad refused to take his tablets and stuff. I saw what it did to her when he’d lose his job all the time because he’d lashed out at his co-workers or just didn’t show up because he’d forgotten or gotten distracted. He sank into depression and dragged her down with him too. And then he left her in the end, left her with a kid that he’d infected with the same poison.” His hand tightened into a fist on the table as he looked out of the café window. “It’s best if I just stay single, that way I won’t put anyone through what my mom went through. Plus, the genetic line will end with me then. No baby Anderson’s to f**k up anyone else’s lives then.”
I watched him, shocked by the passion that went into his words. He truly meant it. “So you’ll never date a girl, ever?” I clarified.
He shook his head, adjusting the towel on my ankle again. “Nope.”
“Have you ever dated?” I asked, suddenly wondering now about his past. Was that why he was so embarrassed when I joked about him touching my ass outside earlier? He shook his head, frowning down at his hands as his finger started tracing a pattern on my shin again. “Wow. I think that’s…” I struggled for the right word to finish that sentence.
“Honourable?” he offered, looking up at me then.
I shook my head. “No, not honourable,” I disagreed. “Freaking stupid!” I finished, frowning at him.
His mouth popped open in shock, his hand stilled on my leg. “Stupid? How is that stupid?”
I made a scoffing noise and waved my hand at him in example. “Look at you,” I cried.
He rolled his eyes. “Because of the way I look I should date people? I’m depriving the girls of my six pack, is that what you’re getting at?” he asked angrily.
“It has nothing to do with what you look like. It’s how you behave. Look at yourself right now, Zach,” I instructed, shaking my head and pointing at my ankle. “You’ve been taking care of me for the last ten minutes. You’re worried about me. You’re kind, thoughtful and generous. You’re funny, smart, loyal and considerate. Surely you can see what a special person you are. Why do you have such a negative image of yourself?” I asked. As I spoke his expression was turning more and more bewildered, as if he’d never had anyone see good in him before.
“I’ve seen what it does to someone when episodes of ADHD start. You think I’m all great now, but that’s because I’m on the tablets. What happens if one day I start acting like him and think I don’t need them? What if I fall back in with that bad crowd? What if I turn out to be exactly like him?” he countered, shaking his head angrily.
“But what if you don’t?” I argued.
He didn’t have any words for that. His mouth opened and then snapped shut again as his eyes locked onto mine. There was a fierce intensity there. I had a feeling that no one had ever challenged his idea of the disease before.
I carried on challenging his ideals. “What if you continue to work hard on your parkour and become an awesome traceur that kids look up to and have posters of on their walls? What if you never stop taking your tablets and never stop being this kind person that you always are to me? Some girl would fall madly in love with you and you could make her happy for the rest of her life. You don’t deserve to shut yourself off from things, Zach. You deserve to be happy too. Just because you have ADHD doesn’t mean that you can’t live your life and be happy. And some girl deserves to have you treat her like a princess every day, just like you always do me. So get over it and this negative image you have of yourself.”
He swallowed loudly, looking away from me as his fingers started the pattern again on my leg. “I don’t treat you like a princess,” he muttered after a minute of awkward silence. His words were barely discernible, but I made them out somehow.
“All girls wish for a guy that is interested in what they have to say, that thinks they’re funny and appreciates the small things that they do. They want a guy to give them their jacket because it’s cold, and someone that looks out for them and worries about their safety. That’s what I class being treated like a princess. Girls like that stuff. You don’t do that for me?” I asked, wrapping the string of his hoodie around my finger and raising one eyebrow challengingly.
He frowned, digesting my words. Finally, he spoke, and a small smirk slipped onto his face. “I’m only interested in what you have to say because you’re helping me graduate.”
I smiled knowingly. He was a nice guy; he just wasn’t ready to admit it yet. I turned my head, looking out of the window of the café. “Whatever you say, Zachary.”
From the corner of my eye I saw him watching me. A smile played at the edge of his mouth. We were silent then for a few minutes, and then a car skidded to a halt outside the café, two doors slammed and I closed my eyes, knowing I was about to get it in the neck from both of the Preston men. I tried to mentally prepare myself for the long, sleepless night ahead.
Chapter 25
To say that I was in trouble for stopping at the video store would be an understatement. I not only got it in the neck from my dad and brother, but also from Luke. By the time I’d gotten home from the café that I went to with Zach, my ears were hurting probably more than my ankle form the verbal bashing my dad gave me all the way home.
We’d called the police again and done a report over the phone. They’d told me not to delete the messages and that they’d lift them off of my phone the following day. I’d assured my dad that my ankle was fine and that all I needed was rest. Zach had backed me up on that front, telling my dad that it was a sprain and that I should just take it easy and keep an eye on it to make the swelling didn’t get worse.
I had barely slept that night. Once I was alone in my bedroom, my mind wandered to the fact that someone had followed me from my house and to the rental store. They must have been camped outside my house somewhere, hidden in the shadows, watching and waiting. When my dad had gone to bed that night, an eerie silence crept over the house which made my stomach ache. With the house so quiet it seemed to magnify the sounds of everything else outside. The trees rustling in the wind, a cat meowing, a car driving up the street, all of it was somehow now frightening as I imagined the guy out there in the street, watching the house and just waiting for me to leave on my own again. That wouldn’t be happening though. Not only had my dad strictly forbidden me to be so stupid again, I actually didn’t want to go out alone again.
I hadn’t been able to get myself warm for hours, no matter how many sheets and blankets I piled up on top of myself. Loneliness and fear had kept me awake until the early hours of the morning. I longed for Luke. I longed for his arms and his smell and his warmth. By the time morning came around I gave up trying to put on a brave face and just called him, asking him if he’d come over and hang out for a few hours.
Once he’d finished giving me the lecture about how silly it was that I’d gone out on my own when anything could have happened, Luke and I spent all day up in my room watching the movies that he’d brought around with him. It was nice, and just like the old Saturdays before we’d broken up. A couple of times I’d even completely forgotten that we’d broken up and cuddled up against him, enjoying his comfort and the safety that he emitted.
He came over again on Sunday, but that wasn’t as easy as the day before, because Zach turned up unannounced while he was there. He’d come to see how I was and if I needed anything. Luke had sat there with a scowl on his face, obviously biting his tongue so he didn’t say anything about it. I appreciated that he was working hard on not being jealous, though I could still see it in his posture for the ten minutes that Zach had sat on the edge of my bed for. It was kind of a relief when he left if I was honest.
By the time Monday came around my ankle was a lot better and I could walk on it for a short time before it started to ache again. Luke begged me to let him pick me up for school, and since I’d leant on him all weekend I couldn’t really refuse. It was so weird seeing his little sports car parked in my driveway when he came to collect me.
I frowned at it distastefully. The last time I’d been in that car was when I was speeding it away from Ricky’s party after I’d caught Luke cheating. Luke seemed to be driving his Jeep more lately. In a way I kind of wished he’d brought the other one today, I didn’t really need more to deal with on top of the memories of him with someone else.
“Morning, baby,” he chirped, jogging up to meet me as I hobbled up the path.
“Hey,” I greeted, handing him my bag because I knew he’d take it off my shoulder anyway. He smiled, looping his arm around my waist and helping me to the passenger side of the car.
“I brought this one so you don’t have to stretch to climb in. I know you were a lot better yesterday but figured every little helps,” he explained, opening the door for me and looking down at my ankle worriedly.
Oh. Well then I guess I can’t exactly complain if he’s actually put thought into bringing this car for me! That’s sweet. “Thanks, Luke.” I slid in, swinging my legs and smiling gratefully. I secured my seatbelt while he headed around to the driver’s side.