Bad Boy Blues(50)

Before he can react to it, Art pulls him away.

After that, I get to work. I mix up the pancake batter, adding in chocolate chips to make them extra sweet. I’m not much of a cook but this is going to be the best damn meal Zach’s ever tasted. I’ll make sure of it.

I hear their chattering in the background. Mostly it’s inconsequential, but then I hear Zach’s low voice and I move closer to the edge of the kitchen so I can hear him clearly.

Art’s sitting on the couch, his legs dangling, and Zach’s kneeling on the floor before him.

“You know what bullies are?” Zach says. “They are cowards. They are afraid of everything. They are afraid of themselves. They are afraid of you.”

“They are not afraid of me.”

“You kidding? They are terrified of you. You probably haunt their dreams, buddy.”

Art giggles. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” All traces of amusement go away from Zach’s face as he continues, “That’s why they pick on you, Art. Deep down they know that this is it. This is the best fucking time of their lives and when it’s over, they’re over. If they are tall, they know that’s it. That’s all they are ever gonna be and that’s why they pick on people shorter than them.”

“When am I gonna get tall?” Art mumbles.

He chuckles. “You’ll get tall. You’ll get taller. That’s the thing about the bullied, Art. The bullied, they know they’ll change. They know things will get better for them. Your bullies know it too. They’re terrified of you because they know your time is coming. One day you’re gonna be taller than them and you won’t even need this.” Zach wraps his big hand around Art’s fist. “You won’t need your fists, your jacket, nothing. And you know what else?”

“What?”

“When you’re taller, they won’t mean anything to you. They’ll mean nothing. Less than nothing. You won’t even remember them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. For bullies, their whole life is about you. Their whole life revolves around you, about putting you down. That’s how they feel better about themselves. But for you, they don’t even exist. They don’t even matter. You’re gonna forget them and move on, but they’ll never forget you. That’s your power.”

“You mean, like my superpower?”

“Fuck yeah, your superpower.”

Art giggles again. “You’re not supposed to say that.” Then, he leans over to Zach. “Blue doesn’t like bad words.”

“She doesn’t, huh?”

“Nope. One time, Tina said the F word at dinner and Blue freaked out. She thinks I’m a kid and I’m not supposed to be around bad stuff.”

Zach throws a lopsided smile. “Yeah? Well, she does freak out easily, doesn’t she?”

Art nods his head enthusiastically. “But she doesn’t freak out on me. She told me once that I was her favorite person ever.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. I think I’m gonna ask her to marry me.”

So far, I’ve been super quiet. Super-duper quiet. Even though there’s this weight pressing down on my chest. My tears are clogging my nose, my throat. They are clogging my very breath.

But I’ve managed to stay undetected.

At Art’s words though, I snort in pleasure and Zach looks up.

His eyes are liquidy, not like mine though. Mine must be a mess right now. Red and swollen, probably. His are as dark as ever but with undercurrents of some pretty intense emotions.

He’s always been the bully and I’ve been the bullied.

But maybe I’m a little bit of a bully too.

Don’t be like me.

No matter what I am, my life revolves around him. It always has.

“Well, good luck with that,” Zach replies to Art’s earlier cutesy statement that melted my heart. “Blue’s pretty hard to catch.”

Not if I don’t run.

I wish I hadn’t run that night – the night I went up to his room to confront him about the date. I wish I’d stayed and… kissed him. I wish I’d touched him some more.

I stare at his eyes, his dark hair, the cut of his face, his lips. The way he’s kneeling down on the floor, being all tender with Art, and yet he looks so powerful, the tallest guy I’ve ever met.

The guy I might have hurt for years and years, without knowing.

“D-dinner will be ready in ten minutes,” I say, clearing my throat.

When it’s ready, I tell them to go wash up while I serve them each a huge stack of pancakes. With all the syrups that I could find in the fridge.

Dutifully, they both sit on the bar stools and dig in. Well, at least Art does, and when Zach simply picks up his fork without even glancing at the food, but keeping his attention on me, I turn away.

I start cleaning up, avoiding his gaze. I can’t eat with them.

The truth is that this is the very first time I’ve done anything remotely nice for Zach. I’ve never even smiled at him. And every time I hear my own voice from years ago, it all gets too much.

Art’s making yummy noises but Zach is silent. I’m not sure if he likes the food and I want him to. I want him to like it. Very, very badly.

After dinner, I rinse the dishes in the sink but before I can put them in the dishwasher, they get snatched away from my hand.