Don't Leave Me Here Alone

Chapter Twelve

Adam felt the rush of a thousand heartbreaks.

He sat alone in the classroom for a long time before he even considered moving. He could hear the party, now that Zachariah had left and the Latin classroom was silent. It echoed up the hallway like the chatter of students had, back when he'd gone to highschool in this building. Anxiety rumbled beneath his skin like a thunderstorm. He wasn't even sure that his legs would hold him up if he stood. He wanted nothing more than to rip the scars on his wrists back open, and was glad there was nothing sharp enough in his immediate vicinity to add to the temptation.

The talk had gone exactly how he had thought it would: horribly. And yet, over the past few days, he'd found himself hoping for more.

The rejection was burning through him like poison. It was consuming his heart and tightening around his lungs. It was pushing tears up his throat and choking him.

"Fuck," he whispered.

And that was it.

When he'd seen Zachariah at the bar the first night he'd arrived, he hadn't been able to think, could barley talk. Zachariah had looked so good and something had settled inside Adam at the sight of him. All week, he'd battled between trying to be friends with Zachariah and a desperate need to tell him the truth. He had even thought Zachariah was going to kiss him in Monmouth— after they'd slept in the same bed and Adam had unconsciously wrapped himself around Zachariah like he was coming home. He'd been so scared when he woke up. So scared that Zachariah would realise what Adam was doing and push him away. But Zachariah had tried to kiss him, instead. And that had sparked a blaze of hope inside him that there was still a way for him to earn Zachariah back.

He had been wrong, though. Wrong about all of it.

Because, seeing how Zachariah had looked just before he left, the devastation written across his face, told Adam all he needed to know.

Zachariah would never forgive him this.

Not ever.

The only thing that had hurt more had been watching how the man who never shrunk down from anything had become smaller and smaller in front of him and knowing it was entirely his own fault.

⁂

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon by the time he finally pushed himself up, and the sounds of the christening had long since faded. He was weak and shuddering. It had been several hours since he'd last eaten, but the thought of food made his stomach churn dangerously.

The hallway was dark as he despondently shuffled through it. Dimmed lights lit the lockers and threw long shadows across the floor. He felt empty, as though all his energy and emotions had been sucked out of him through a straw. He pushed a door open and stepped out into to a cold, November night. The air stung his face and hot tears leaked from his eyes, unwanted. The breeze chilled them immediately, making his cheeks ache more.

He leaned against his motorcycle, the only vehicle remaining in the parking lot, and rubbed the liquid off his face with a sleeve. After Zachariah's reaction to the truth, he thought he didn't have much left to lose. He had been on pretty shaky ground with his other friends since he'd broken up with Zachariah, anyway.

Fuck it.

He took out his phone and called Shawn.

"Can you and Ivy meet me at Monmouth? I think... I need to get it over with and tell them, Shawn."

Shawn sighed at Adam's shaky tone. "We'll be right over. It's gonna be okay, Adam."

"Yeah, maybe. I'll see you in a bit." He hung up and called Gansey.