That Fateful Night

Chapter Two - Vivid Memories

It has been almost two weeks since then. I never replied. I kept it from Libby too, I knew she'd grab my phone and message him back immediately if I told her.

I grab my phone and open the message, I stare at the screen before locking my phone and chucking it onto my bed. I let out a loud sigh and lean back in my chair.

Boys later, university work now.

I stare at my laptop screen, at the blank Word document that has been open for God knows how long. The cursor at the beginning blinking at me constantly. Taunting me. Mocking me.

Do it for the trust fund. I think in my head. I take a deep breath, before grabbing my phone and sending Zac a text.

Hey, I'm a little bit stuck on the essay due next week. Can you help me, please?

His reply is instant.

Yeah sure. Library in an hour?

I tap out a reply and send it.

Yeah, sounds good. Thanks.

I grab my bag and put my laptop in it, before grabbing my phone and slipping my shoes on. I'm out of the flat in less than a minute.

Zac is sat at a table, wearing just a hoodie and black jeans. So effortless, yet so gorgeous. It's not fair. He should be chasing after girls like Libby, not me. He's wasting his time with me.

I pull out a chair and sit in it, dumping my bag on a table.

"Hey, how are you?" Zac says, tearing his eyes away from his laptop screen.

"Pretty good, what about you?" I reply and he nods.

"Yeah, I'm doing good. A bit hungover. The guys dragged me out to another club." My stomach churns and I bite my lip. I smile anyway, despite the negative feeling chewing up my insides.

"I was up late doing my essay," I say and open my laptop. Zac peers over and notices the blank document.

"Doing what?"

"Staring, contemplating what would be the easiest and painless way to commit suicide, contemplating whether to drop out, move to China and shave my hair off. The usual." Zac laughs.

Zac pulls out a few books from his bag and pushes them over to me. "Have you read these?" I examine the covers, the titles and the authors not ringing a bell. It's apparent I haven't touched a book in years.

I shake my head no. "I hate reading."

His jaw drops slightly. "Then why are you doing this degree?"

I shrug. "Father made me." I say nonchalantly. I've practiced this a thousand times. Everyone asks me why I'm doing this if I hate it so much.

"You shouldn't put yourself in so much debt for something you're not enjoying."

I shrug again. "It's the only way to get the money from the trust fund my dad set up." Zac nods.

"Ah, yeah. That makes sense. Isn't there anything else you can do?"

"No. He wouldn't accept anything else. Besides, after this and when I get the nice sum of money, I can train to do what I want and open up my own salon."

"That's understandable. So, you need my help to pass?"

I take a deep breath. "If you wouldn't mind."

He rubs his hand on his chin. "What's in it for me?"

"I don't know, free hair cuts and styles for life?" I say and shrug. Zac frowns in disgust.

"Ugh, no." He laughs and runs his hand through his hair. It's shaggy today, and no gel in sight. "How about a few dates?"

I scoff and try to hold back a laugh. "Still after that then? I don't put out, so if-" I begin to say before he cuts me off.

"I'm not after sex," he says bluntly. His eyes bore into mine and I find my breath gets stuck in my throat, and my heart does the weird stutter thing.

"Good," I choke out. I break eye contact and look at my hands. "So, why do you want to go on a date with me?"

"You seem interesting."

"Nah, I'm about as interesting as a brick." He laughs.

"I think you're interesting." My cheeks heat up and I fight a smile.

"Thank you," I say quietly. "Should we get started on this essay then?" Zac moves his chair closer to mine, and my heart leaps and bounds in my chest. I take a deep breath, a pitiful attempt to calm my heart down. Why do I have a crush now? Of all times?

Zac begins to summarise each book that we were supposed to read, and then I pick an essay question. After several hours of being in the library, an essay is finally complete. It was a lot of his work, I won't take credit for that, but it's done.

"Thank you so, so much," I say as I put my laptop in my bag. "I wouldn't have been able to do this without you."

"I know. So, about that date?" Zac smirks and winks at me. My cheeks heat up and I break eye contact.

"Whenever you want. Whenever you're free." I say. He almost did my whole essay, I owe him at least a date. It wouldn't be fair. Who knows, I might enjoy a date with him.

"Hmm. What are you doing tomorrow night?" He asks.

"Nothing at the moment. Unless Libby is dragging me to some house party. I only barely got out of the one last weekend." I say. Although, I doubt she'd drag me along if I had a date planned. "Actually, tomorrow night is perfect."

He smiles. "Great. I'll text you the details later."

"What?!" Libby exclaims, frozen in place. Saucepan of pasta still in hand, and her movements towards the sink halted. She shakes her head before heading to the sink to drain her pasta.

"Yeah, I'm going on a date tomorrow evening." I repeat. Libby turns to face me, shock marring her face.

"Wow. I'm stunned." She tips her pasta into a bowl and proceeds to drench it in ketchup – trust me, I'm judging her too. "I never thought I'd see you go on a date."

"Me too." I rest my head on my hand, my elbow propped up on the table.

"Do you like him then?" She asks as she joins me at the table. I shrug.

"I don't know. It's a bit early."

"Not like that. Do you find him attractive?" I shrug. I let my hand fall to the table and sit up straight. She sighs. "It's fine to admit that you finally have a crush on someone, Lia."

I blush. "If I admit it then it makes it too real, Libby," I let out a sigh. "I'm here to complete a degree, not get a boyfriend."

"I know, but you need to live a little. What your dad doesn't know won't hurt you. You let him control you too much."

She's not lying. In a way, he does control me. He always has done. Before it was hanging my mum in front of me, now it's that stupid trust fund.

"Emilia," Libby snaps, bringing my attention back to the conversation. "Relax, breathe, let go. It's fine to live. You're an adult. He has no legal control over you and ignore that stupid trust fund."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "It's not that easy, I need that money-"

"No you don't," Libby interrupts, "it's just a way to control you. I doubt it actually exists. He's lied before, remember?"

A memory comes flooding into focus.

"You promised! You promised me I could see her!" Thirteen year old me screamed. My cheek burned at the impact of his hand against my cheek. I clutched it, staring at him defiantly, no remorse in his eyes.

"She's dead! She died years and years ago! Just drop it, Emilia!" He bellowed. The words stabbed me. I stood there as my heart shattered into pieces around me. As everything I knew collapsed.

"Yeah, I remember." I choke out. The memory still vivid. Too vivid.