as long as you care

xiv. WHO CARES ABOUT THAT

chapter fourteen,

who cares about that.

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[unedited] 14.

before the accident (cont.)

"this one doesn't look too old." zak tried, wiping the dust off of a broken down skateboard. i looked at him with confusion, saying, "that looks like it was made before my parents were born."

we were rummaging through zak's garage for something to use for the skate-park. i, of course, was stalling him, because today there was a small feeling in my gut that just didn't sit correctly. i couldn't decipher the feeling, but it felt worrisome and i didn't know if i should focus on it too much.

i decided to ignore the pit growing in my stomach, because atop of that scared feeling were thousands of miniature butterflies coursing through my veins. zak made me feel like this sometimes (which was an understatement). whenever he wrapped his gentle hand around mine or lingered closer to me than he usually would with anyone else, made my stomach flutter and hands jittery.

i'm pretty sure i was crushing on him. crushing hard. and maybe he was too. but, how would i know? i've never experienced anything like this before. the feeling was uniquely special and scarily terrifying.

he was all of those things, too. he was as unique as the pattern at the bottom of my shoe, and as special as the gold ring that no longer sat on his mother's ring finger. he was as scary as an unfortunate and accidental mishap that left the future uncertain, and as terrifying as the high rise lights, the tidal waves that reminisced the words of sharpness stabbed into his spine that will remain endlessly and shrivel into the back of his tongue; the words that revisited his timid brain whenever he reached rock bottom, and haunted their way to the top when he was at his best.

"the sun is going to set soon, we should probably start to leave. do you wanna just chill there instead?" zak asked me, "i'd rather slide down the ramps than accidentally break my back on a skateboard."

"sure." i nodded, "that sounds fine."

"do you have a watch on you? or a phone?" zak wondered, feeling his pockets, "i don't."

i shook my head, "not with me."

"okay. my dad said to be home before seven, it's okay. we won't be that late." zak thought, pressing the button to close his garage. it squeaked shut while i trailed behind zak as he opened his garage door, holding it open for me.

my cheeks rose in temperature. "thanks."

"no problem." he smiled, grabbing my hand and pulling us to our side walk, "so.. darryl.."

"yeah..?" i said, nervously holding his hand. we always did this together, but this time it held more meaning. this time my heart skipped a beat. this time my mind was completely awake when he talked to me. this time i appreciated every word of his like it was his last. i made sure to watch the way he glanced into nothing when he thought hard about something, i noticed the way he would hesitate before speaking—as if his words weren't worth my time, i noticed how every time i blushed, he did too. how when i would tighten our hands together, he would do the same.

zak paused, keeping his question to himself. he cleared his throat, asking, "how — how.. do you like our class?"

"oh!" i gasped, "yeah.. i mean, i don't hate it. i like having you. our teacher is.. questionable. he dresses like my dad."