The Loner

six: she goes on a date

Abs or biceps?

Y'know what I just realised? Zak and Zel sounds like Jack and Jill.

. . .

Mom returned home from work two hours later, and I told her everything, not wanting to keep it from her. The moment I finished recounting the day's events, I noticed her worry deepening about me getting involved in Zak's business—especially one that involved blood and cuts—but she kept her concerns to herself.

"I'm going to wake him up now," I said, glancing at the clock. It was getting dark outside, and he needed to go home and rest.

I managed to grab two plates of pasta Mom had made for us and Zak's shirt as I headed upstairs to my room. I had changed into my pastel pink pajamas with black polka dots that included a shirt and shorts, my hair tied in a bun, with loose tendrils framing my face.

As I approached my door, I found it slightly ajar. Inside, Zak was sitting shirtless, checking out my room and decorations, unaware of my presence. My throat went dry at the sight. His scars had dried up.

My gaze traveled over his cheekbones, then his jaw. I felt a magnetic pull as my eyes traced down to his chest and abs, then to his broad shoulders. He caught sight of my pictures from when I was younger, and a soft smile spread across his face.

How could he be so muscular and manly yet so cute at the same time?

Then he turned his head and found me staring. I felt heat rush to my cheeks.

"Um—sorry, I wasn't staring—"

"It's okay; these scars are scary and ugly. I don't mind it," he replied softly.

But I wasn't staring at the scars, Zak. 

I was staring at what was underneath.

I set down the food and handed him his shirt. "How did you get them?" I asked as I sat down on my bed. Zak slipped on his shirt and sat beside me.

His eyes were no longer bloodshot; they looked beautiful, as they always did. He regarded me with a softness that felt like a feather brushing against my skin.

"I can't thank you enough. And I'm really sorry for coming here. I didn't know where else to go," he said, ignoring my question. His voice was deep, sending delightful shivers down my spine.

"And, I can't tell you what happened."

I passed him his plate of food. "You don't have to repay me, and you can come here if you need help. You helped me first with the whole people following me thing—" and I really like you— "But you need to tell me what happened."

"I can't, Zel."

His voice took on a slightly stern tone.

"Did you get into a fight? Are you into... criminal things? I need to know what I'm dealing with. You can't come all bloody and expect me to be okay with not knowing."

"I understand that you need to know," he said, looking at me deeply, "and I wish I could tell you, but I can't. I really can't. I shouldn't have troubled you."

His eyes told me a different story. They begged for understanding, revealing a truth I couldn't quite grasp.

"I will find out," I said with conviction.

He sighed and began to eat his food.

I couldn't help but wonder if he liked me back, at least a little bit. What did he think of me? Was I just some girl he went to school with?

What would happen if I told him that I liked him?

I knew it hadn't been long since we met. We barely knew each other, and it was probably just physical attraction. But God, did I like him.