FACELESS

Chapter 17

BEFORE

I cannot lie and say we weren't awkward after that.

Zac and I are in complete silence when we walked home together. It had become a daily routine, for people to see that we were buddies for commute. Nothing more. Just common commuters living a common life reaching for a common goal.

We walk silently, side by side. Beside us, the train zooms past, rattling the railways, and the screeching sound of the train engaging its brakes pierces the air. Zac cringes, his face contorts into a form of discomfort. The sound fades away as the train drives into the station. We resume the cold, unrelenting silence between the both of us.

I want him to apologize.

I want him to apologize.

"Sorry about today." I say.

Why am I apologizing?

"It's fine." Zac replies, looking down. His left-hand fumbles with his phone, and he clenches his right fist slightly, and rubs his pointer finger with his thumb, the look on his face – I don't understand it. But he doesn't look at me in the eye.

"You should watch a movie with her."

"What?"

"Geta." I continue, "She really likes you. Ever since she was, I guess, in this school."

Zac remains quiet for a while.

Then he laughs.

A soft chuckle, not the one where you double over, holding your stomach in because it felt as if laughing so hard could make your stomach fall out, and your eyes are tearing up with tears from laughter, happiness. No. But it's one that is full, and light at the same time, not one of mockery but of amusement.

Zac takes a deep breath in, and he lets out a relieved sigh.

"No way I'm going to watch the movie with Geta."

"Well," I raise my eyebrows, "She would be disappointed when she hears that."

Zac smirks. "Go ahead," he says. "If her friend Abigail was here too, I'll say that to her face too."

"Was she good? Fuckable? Right? That's the only way you would stay with her." Abigail wouldn't stop talking.

"She's not much physically, but I bet in bed she's fucking great, isn't she?"

I swallow, hoping that the memories of what happened today will fade away. The tears edge themselves into my eyes; and I bite the inside of my cheek, and dig my nails into the inside of my palm. Something thick, and suffocating fills my chest. Like cotton – and it soaks up everything inside of me, everything that is logic, mind. My emotions inside me runs un kept without my logics to bring me back to earth.

Breathing is difficult. My lungs are full, filled to the brim with cotton, and it takes away all the courage and energy I have to speak today.

"I'm sorry about today." Zac's voice rang out.

The weight in my chest, floats away.

Relief.

"It's okay." I hear myself speak, but I don't know why I say this, and not: "Why?"

Why didn't you defend me? Am I not your friend?

Instead, I let out the only phrase I am used to speaking. 'It's okay.', and the two words float above the two of us, weighing us down. Then, Zac nods, smiles, and we continue walking in silence. The words fizzes around the both of us, and I swallow the lump at the back of my throat, the dignity I have, the sense of finality hitting me in my chest. It's okay, I will say. I will keep on saying, it's okay, it's okay, and if he raises his voice at me, I'll say I'm sorry. If he had turned towards me, a incredulous look on his face and ask me: "Why didn't you defend yourselves?" I would had froze, and then, with a whisper and tears in my eyes that I try to hide, say: "I'm sorry." and then the whole cycle would repeat. Over and over again.

I'm sorry. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay.

Until it's not.

A moment later, Zac's phone rings.