The Chemistry Test

17. cold hands and sushi plans

Day Eight

Zak.

He met my eyes from his wheelchair and smiled, the genuine smile I had so desperately longed for the entire night.

Other than the sling supporting his right arm and the thick white bandage wrapped around his forehead, he looked okay.  Seeing him in a hospital gown took me slightly aback just because he looked so vulnerable.

Mr. Riley pushed the wheelchair over to us with Mark trailing awkwardly behind both of them. My mind told me to not to, but the only thing I could do was go to him.

I sprang from the couch. I wasn't entirely sure how to address him, whether to lock him in a tight embrace or simply smile, but after a moment it didn't matter. It didn't matter what his father thought, what Mark thought, what anyone thought for that matter. I didn't care. The chemistry test was no longer in jeopardy.

But was that all that I cared about? Getting an 'A' in Theater? Gleaming under the spotlight on the stage? Soaking in my fifteen minutes of fame before graduation?

I reached for his right hand and gave it a small squeeze, neither of us yet breaking the silence.

No. If I only cared about the grade, I wouldn't have worried about Zak. I wouldn't have followed the siren of the ambulance all of the way here. I wouldn't have sat in the waiting room the past hour and a half biting my fingernails and nearing on an anxiety attack. I cared about him - truly cared - outside of the wicked mental game that was the chemistry test.

"You're cold." Zak smirked, squeezing my hand in response.

I snorted a laugh, taken aback by his bluntness. "You, too." His eyes twinkled, matching the quirking of his lips as we gazed at each other. I broke the moment of silence, "How are you doing? Shouldn't you be, like, laying down or something?"

"Probably." He shrugged his free shoulder. "But you came to me, so the least I could do is roll out here and meet ya halfway."

"You should probably be in bed." I spoke in a hushed tone, tracing my thumb along the back of his hand.

"Tried to tell him." Mark shook his head, eyes shut halfway. "He wouldn't listen. Wanted to s-see you."

I looked between Mark and Zak and fought back a grin as I imagined how powerless Mark's stoned alter-ego must have been against Zak's willpower.

"You must be Zoe."  Mr. Riley cleared his throat and extended his hand.  I let go of Zak's hand and shook his father's a couple times.

"That's me."  I smiled through my nerves.  "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Riley."

"Likewise."  He said, expressionless. 

Heartbeats pulsed in my ears and I could have sworn my organs were going to implode.  It was a good thing I was already in a hospital. 

Ha, ha.  Very funny, Zoe.

"Dad."  Zak craned his neck to look at his father.  "I'd like to talk to her for a second." 

Mr. Riley looked between us.  "Very well.  Five minutes."  He nodded.  With each footstep, his Oxfords clicked and echoed against the tile until he reached the carpeted sitting area.