What happens when you're just a story written under the moonlit sky? What happens when the only boy you love becomes a faded memory of just someone you used to know? What happens when you can't get your heart back, but that boy left you tattered and...
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By the time school had begun, I was officially fifteen. I had spent many of my summer nights lying under the stars in the field behind our houses. Looking up at the stars, while Zachariah talked about nothing, yet everything. He talked about how his dad left him his Harley when he had passed away. I knew then it was special. He would talk about how he couldn't wait to get out of Jackson and leave it in the dust. He wanted to be a motorcycle mechanic far away from here. I didn't blame him for wanting to get away, even if the thought of him leaving tore a piece inside of me into.
He would listen to me talk about wanting to be a writer, and how I had shoeboxes full of journals that I would write in. He had asked me "What do you write about?" I had told him everything, which was the truth. I also didn't want him to know that most of those pages were full of him and how I was so mesmerized by who he was.
We were also silent in those moments too. He would interlace his thick fingers with my much smaller, bony ones. I would smile as I looked up at the darkened sky. Memorize the feel of his hands, so I could later write it down. I didn't ever want to forget anything about Zachariah Taylor.
He never kissed me again though. He wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to take things slow. He was the king of slow with me. That was fine though. I just wanted his time. Being in his presence felt like a gift in and of itself. One I couldn't explain but set my heart ablaze every time his bright eyes would shine in my direction.
I was doing miserable in school. In every class, except for English. That was the only class I excelled in. My only saving grace though, was Zachariah. Even though we mostly spent nights together, he asked my dad if he could take me to and from school. That was a tricky feat. Somehow though, he managed to get my dad to say yes.
The first time I rode of the back of his Harley was scary to be honest. I held so tightly onto Zachariah; I knew I had to be hurting him. He didn't complain though. No, he was patient with me. Then one day the wind was blowing sweetly through my hair, and the smell of his woodsy cologne hit my nostrils. I felt free and surrounded by him and only him. I knew at that moment I would never be able to ride a Harley without him. Anyone else would be a blaspheme to what we had.
It was the end of the school day, so I went to get my backpack out of my locker, then I went sprinting towards the student parking lot in search of Zachariah. I knew Mia would be mad that I didn't wait and walk with her, but I didn't want to waste any time I had with a certain blue eyed blonde. I knew he was leaning against his Harley waiting for me.
When I had finally made it out of the double doors and into the parking lot, I slowed my pace. Then suddenly I stopped. My breath halting in my lungs, even though it was fighting to be released. Zachariah was leaning against his motorcycle, but there leaning against him, smiling up at him like he was the sun, was a pretty brunette. She was touching his arm like he was hers to touch. He wasn't though, was he?
I tried not to think too much of it. In all reality that night he kissed me hadn't changed too much of our dynamic. We did talk more, and spent more time together, but like I had said, he hadn't kissed me since. I knew I was two years younger, and he wanted to go slow with me, but I didn't think he would look for what I couldn't yet give in someone else. Someone older.
Hesitating I took a few steps closer. Not sure if I should intrude on what seemed private. Even if he was my only ride home. As the girl went to move closer to him though, he glanced up and saw me. Something like hurt flashed in those sky eyes, but I couldn't understand why he may be hurt. Maybe because he didn't intend on me seeing the view in front of me.
"What's wrong?" The girls high pitched nasally tone droned into my ears and caused me to halt in my steps. She looked up at Zachariah, then followed his stare to where I was slowly walking in their direction. "Who are you?" She sneered at me.
Slowly starting my last few steps to where they were, I looked at Zachariah once more, then at the brunette. "I'm Remi." Was that my voice that was trembling?
She scoffed, then turned around so she was directly in front of Zachariah. "Do you mind? We we're kind of busy."
I glanced at Zachariah behind her, then back at her. I didn't want to seem small. I didn't want to give her the justice of watching me walk away. I also didn't know why he wasn't saying anything. "Are you not taking me home today?" My voice was small and held so much emotion that was trying to break through. Why did something so small hurt so bad?
He stepped away from the brunette and scratched the back of his neck. A nervous habit of his I had only saw him do when talking about where his bruises came from. He looked down at his black riding boots, then finally caught my stare. "Can you ride home with Mia and John?"
I closed my eyes for three seconds. Three. On the first, I took a deep breath. On the second, I let it out. On the third, I decided to lie to him. Opening my eyes, I caught his intense stare. I could also tell that the girl was getting tired of waiting around on me. "Mia and John already left." That was the first time I would lie to him. I promised myself that it would be the last.
Zachariah's bright eyes turned to a stormy sky. They flickered between me and the girl who's name I still didn't know. "I'm sorry Becca, but I promised her dad I would see she made it home safely."
Becca's hazel eyes scanned me from head to toe. As if she was just noticing me for the first time. They ran from white converse to my high waisted bell bottoms, to my rolling stones t-shirt. Then finally settled on my face. "You are ditching me for this little kid?" I didn't like how she referred to me as a kid. I hadn't been a kid in a long time. But some people thought they could just judge you based on your age. I was young, not naive.
Zachariah took a step towards me. Holding his hand out to me, he smiled. "Yeah Becca. I think I am." I placed my hand in his, and beamed up at him, then turned my smile back to her. I won. At least I thought I had. Sometimes though, we don't know the whole story, until later on. I was a good fifteen minutes from hearing this one. That night I would really grow to regret lying to him.
Becca took off in a fit of rage. Talking about how he would regret this. I gladly got on his Harley, even though I had questions. On the ride to my house, Zachariah was tense. I could feel his muscles bursting beneath my fingertips. So, I just held him tighter. Wanting him to know that I was there. I was also scared I was about to lose him for good.
When we pulled into his driveway, and got off the bike, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the field. This time though, he went behind a tree. He kept looking over his shoulder like he was waiting for someone to come out and catch us. We weren't doing anything wrong though, were we?
When we were away from any prying eyes, his forehead fell against mine. We just stood there. Breathing each other in and soaking up the time we had together. I splayed my hand against his heart, as it thudded like thunder against my palm. "What's wrong Zachariah? Why were you with her? What are we? I'm so confused." I was asking so many questions, but I was scared if I didn't just outright ask, then I wouldn't ask at all.
He cradled my face in his palms, as he continued to lean his head against my own. Pulling away, there was so many emotions shining back at me, that my own heart constricted inside of my chest. "He told me to take her out, because her dad is someone he wants on his payroll."
"What are you talking about?" I asked him. Not sure I even wanted to know the whole truth. Scared I already did though.
He pulled me back against him, and I laid my head against his heart. I wanted the steady thundering rhythm to lull me into a lie that everything was fine. "My stepdad. He said Becca's dad is an investor in his "business." That if I didn't cooperate and take her out like she wanted, then I would be the one to pay." I didn't know much about his stepdad's business, but I knew he was shady.
That was the day I learned the cost of my misdoings. If I would have let him take her on a date that day, he wouldn't have come to me that night, hurt worse than I had ever seen him. But it wasn't just his face that needed mending. No. It was his heart that I held in the palm of my hand, as I tried to glue it back together. Because that was the night his stepdad took a baseball bat to the only thing his dad had ever left him.
