was hit by a corn missile. I bent low and took cover behind a scarecrow. The ground beneath me was littered with discarded corn, perfect to return fire.
An ear of corn struck the scarecrow in front of me. Whoever these kids were, they meant business. With determination running through my veins, I picked up the piece that landed on the ground and chucked it back in the direction it came from.
As it flew through the air, I ran. I found a fork in the maze and hung right.
Loud
Somewhere between the corn missiles and the running for cover, I forgot to be pissed. Everything that happened earlier faded farther away with each twist in the maze.
My mouth twitched, and I started laughing so hard it became difficult to run. Gasping for breath, I stopped, bent over, and let the laughter take over.
“Truce. Truce!” I waved my scarf in the air to signify the end of our game. I wanted to meet the kids that gave me the day I had hoped for. The day Zach had single-handedly ruined.
I’d buy them a caramel apple. They deserved it more than my door-closing, ex-boyfriend-inviting brother anyway.
I saw the shadow first, then the dark brown eyes.
All I could do was smile. Because Zach did exactly what I told him he wouldn’t be able to do again.
He made me laugh.
Chapter 8
I watched as my peers turned their heads, putting hands to their mouths as each image of my plastic pollution presentation appeared on the screen. Zach didn’t react. He just sat back, shaking his head with anger in his eyes.
In high school he’d wanted to be a marine biologist. Had that changed?
So much had happened in our time apart, I felt like I didn’t know Zach anymore. But for the first time since he came back, I wanted to.
After the slide show, we headed out to West Shore Beach armed with garbage bags. I led the way with Tanya and Vicky, while Zach walked behind us with Chris D’Angelo.
We started along the dunes, spreading out to cover more area in a shorter amount of time. Tanya and Vicky detached from me and went off into their own world, like they always did.
“Hey.”
I was sick of keeping up the I-hate-you facade so I turned when Zach’s voice reached my ears.
“Hey back.” A cluster of cigarette butts were inches from where we stood. I bent down and placed them in the garbage bag with my gloved hand. “What’s new?”
“Do you really want to know, or are you just trying to be polite?”
“You know I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want to know.”
“True. You’ve never been overly polite before. I don’t know what would make me think that changed,” he said, helping me pick up the remainder of the cigarettes.
“I’d have you know I can be very polite and charming.” His eyes narrowed in on me until we both laughed.
“Okay, we know I’m neither polite nor charming,” I said, standing up.
He rose until his eyes were fixed on mine. “I never said you weren’t charming.”
Warmth seeped into my cheeks. “Can we get back to the original question?”
“‘What’s new’ is kind of a broad topic. I don’t know where to start.”
“I’ll make it easy for you. Why are you here? You could’ve gone to school anywhere. Why here?” He should’ve been in Hawaii spending his days studying ocean life and his nights watching the sun set over the Pacific. He had the grades. The determination. It was always the plan.
His eyes grew dull with sadness. He was obviously bothered by the content of the answer to that question.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I said. I didn’t want to make him discuss something that was clearly upsetting him. And after the way I’d been treating him, I was probably the last person he’d want to confide in.
“No, I do. You’d understand better than anyone else.”
I stopped, frozen in place. Would I? It wasn’t just yesterday when he moved away. I really didn’t know him better than anyone else anymore.
“It’s Mimi.”
My head snapped up.
He took a deep breath before continuing. “She’s sick,” he said, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows.
“No, not Mimi.” Instinctively I reached out, grabbing his wrist. Mimi, Zach’s grandma, was as kind as the sun was bright. She was always one of my favorite people. So full of life. She couldn’t be sick.
“She couldn’t live on her own anymore. We sold the house. Moved her into assisted living. There were no places available close to my parents, and they didn’t want her to be alone. Dad was going to quit his job, but I couldn’t let him do that. So I changed my college plans. I go and see her as often as I can. Take her shopping. Bring her to bingo.” I let go of his wrist as he continued. “It’s been rough, but it’s Mimi. I’d do anything for her. Besides, after being away, it’s nice to be close to home again.”
Except his home, Mimi’s home, was no longer his. They’d sold it. But I assumed it wasn’t about the house.
“Why? Didn’t you like it there?” I asked.
“Not really. It never felt like home. Still doesn’t. My studio apartment here feels more like home. Not to mention I missed my friends. Mimi. You.”
I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that him missing me made every part of me well up with pure ecstasy. For over a year I’d thought the missing was one-sided. It was nice to know it wasn’t.
“Well, you’re here now,” I said in hopes I could cover my smile with words. “Granted things are a little different, and it’s not really home. But it’s close enough.”
“I guess.”
“So how sick is she?” On one hand, I wanted to know. On the other, I was scared of the truth. But it was Mimi. I needed to know.
“She has the beginning stages of dementia. Some days she’s fine, and other days she forgets to turn the iron off. And on really bad days, she doesn’t know who I am or she thinks I’m my dad.”
“Oh, Zach, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, then bent down and picked up a bottle cap. It was obvious he was trying to cover the pain tugging at the corners of his eyes.
His grandmother was a big part of his life. He’d lived up the road from her from the day he was born. He spent more time at her house as a kid than he did at his own.
That house was a part of Zach, and I’d never stopped to think how he felt to leave it behind. During the short time we’d managed to stay together after he left, he never mentioned it. He’d rarely talked about what he left behind though. All he’d wanted was to hear what I had to say.
Was that why he stopped calling? Was I that selfish to not think about how hard leaving must’ve been for him? Did I even ask?
“I wish I’d known. I would’ve gone to see her,” I said, and for a split second his eyes lit up.
“Really?”
“Of course! I love Mimi. You know that.”
“She still asks about you. On her good days, you know. She’d love to see you.”
She still asked about me? My heart swelled like a marshmallow in a microwave. “I’d love to see her.”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. I could see the contentment in the slight smile that tugged at his
