CHAPTER 13:
The screen of the phone was still glowing, a rectangular beacon in the shadows of my bedroom. Zack Fin. The name alone seemed to vibrate with a frequency that unsettled my soul. My thumb hovered over the end-call button, trembling.
The silence on the other end of the line—the seconds of ringing that felt like hours—was too much. The courage Heather had sparked in me minutes ago evaporated like mist. My heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird seeking exit.
I cut the call.
The silence that followed was deafening. I slumped against my headboard, gasping for air. I wasn't ready. I was a girl of shadows and half-formed sentences, and he was... he was the light that revealed too much. I needed an anchor. I needed someone who knew the shape of my grief and the fragile architecture of my hope.
I stood up, my legs feeling like lead, and stumbled down the hall to Alex's room.
I didn't knock. I couldn't. I pushed the door open, the light from her bedside lamp spilling across the floor. Alex looked up from her book, her eyes widening in immediate alarm.
"Jane? My god, what happened? Did something go wrong?" She was off the bed in a second, her hands steadying my shoulders.
"No... no," I managed to whisper, my voice cracking. "I just... I tried to call Zack."
Alex froze. The shock on her face was clear, but it was quickly replaced by a cautious, protective curiosity. "You called him? Why now?"
"Heather," I breathed, sinking onto the edge of her bed. "She gave me enough courage to dial the number, Alex. But I didn't have enough to actually speak. I panicked. I'm a coward."
"You are not a coward, Jane," Alex said, her voice dropping to that firm, older-sister register. "You're just—"
The sudden, sharp vibration of my phone in my hand made us both jump. The screen lit up again.
Incoming Call: Zack Fin.
"He's calling back!" I hissed, the panic returning ten times stronger. I held the phone out like it was a live wire. "Alex, what do I do? What do I say? I can't do this."
"Jane, look at me." Alex grabbed my wrists, her gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that demanded focus. "Breathe. Just breathe. In and out. Do it with me."
I followed her rhythm, my lungs slowly expanding, the jagged edges of my anxiety smoothing out just a fraction.
"Now," Alex whispered as the phone continued its persistent, rhythmic hum.
"Don't overthink it. When you pick up, just say, 'Hi, Zack.' That's it. One step at a time. Tell him you accidentally dialed, or tell him you just wanted to hear a friendly voice. Whatever feels real."
She looked at me with so much love—the kind of look only a sister who has watched you break can give. She was giving me the strength she knew I had hidden somewhere deep inside.
But as I reached for the green icon, the ringing stopped.
The screen went dark. The call had timed out.
I stared at the black glass, a strange mixture of relief and devastating regret washing over me. But as I looked up at Alex, I realized something had changed. The panic was gone. In its place was a quiet, steady resolve. Alex hadn't just calmed me down; she had bridged the gap between my fear and my voice.
"He'll call again," Alex said softly, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. "Or you will. And next time, Jane, you won't cut the call."
I nodded, clutching the phone to my chest. For the first time in two years, the silence didn't feel heavy. It felt like a beginning.
The silence of the room was shattered once more.
The phone didn't just vibrate; it seemed to demand an answer, the screen pulsing with Zack's name.
I looked at Alex. She didn't say a word, but she nodded firmly, her eyes casting a safety net around me. I took a breath—one that felt deeper than any I'd taken all year—and swiped the screen. I pressed the phone to my ear, my heart thundering so loudly I was sure he could hear it through the line.
Before I could even find the breath to say hello, his voice broke through.
"Jane? I'm so sorry."
The weight in his tone caught me off guard. It wasn't the confident, cool Zack from the hallways. He sounded raw. "Please, forgive me. I never should have let you walk away like that. I shouldn't have left you alone when things got heavy."
The ice I had spent years freezing around my heart didn't just crack—it melted. The sincerity in his voice was a warmth I wasn't prepared for.
"It's okay, Zack," I whispered, my voice steadier than I expected. "I didn't call you because I wanted an apology."
There was a brief, charged silence on the other end. I could almost hear him shifting, his curiosity piquing. "Then... why did you call, Jane?"
I hesitated, the old instinct to retreat clawing at my throat. I looked toward Alex. She was standing by the door, her face lit with a fierce, sisterly pride. She flashed me a double thumbs-up and mouthed the words: You can do it.
I closed my eyes, leaning into the strength she was lending me.
"Well, Zack..." I started, my fingers twisting the hem of my shirt. "About that dinner."
Zack's voice dropped an octave, turning low and cautious, as if he were afraid that speaking too loudly might break the moment. "What about it, Jane?"
I let out a long, shaky sigh, releasing the last of the fear that had been holding me hostage since my father died.
"I'll come," I said, the words feeling like a victory. "I'll go to dinner with you, Zack."
Zack's silence on the other end was so heavy I thought the line had gone dead. Then, asharp intake of breath hissed through the speaker.
"Jane? Really?" His voice was breathless, vibrating with a disbelief that made my stomach do a slow, dizzying flip.
"Yeah, Zack," I said, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through. "I'm telling you the
truth. I'm coming."
"Wait—stay right there," he commanded, his tone shifting into something urgent and highenergy. "Don't move. Let me video call you right now. I need to see your face when you say that."
"What? No, Zack, wait—!"
Before I could finish my protest, the line went dead. My heart didn't just beat; it hammered against my ribs like a frantic drum.
A second later, the phone began to blare a melodic chime, and the screen switched to a video interface.
Panic surged through me. I looked at my reflection in the darkened window—my hair was a mess, my eyes were still a little red from talking to Heather, and I was in my oldest oversized hoodie. I reached for the red button, my thumb hovering over the decline icon.
"I can't do it, Alex! I look like a wreck!"
But Alex was faster. With a mischievous glint in her eyes and a lightning-quick flick of her
wrist, she reached out and tapped the green button before I could retreat.
"Alex!" I gasped, but it was too late. The camera was live.
The screen filled with a view of a dimly lit gym. Zack was there, framed against the
industrial background of weight racks and mirrors.
He was wearing a deep charcoal gym vest that clung to him, leaving his arms completely bare. His skin was slick with a thin layer of sweat that caught the overhead lights, and a white towel was draped haphazardly around his neck.
His blond hair was damp, pushed back away from his forehead, makingthose green eyes look even more piercingly bright.
"Hello, Jane," he said, leaning in closer to the camera. He was breathing heavily from his workout, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic, powerful cadence.
The sight of him—so raw, so effortless, and so intensely focused on me—sent a wave of
heat straight to my cheeks. I felt the blood rush to my face, a deep, undeniable blush that I couldn't hide. I felt completely exposed, trapped in the gaze of the one person who seemed to see right through my armor.
Unable to find my words and feeling my knees go weak, I practically shoved the phone into Alex's hands and ducked out of the frame.
"Oh, hi Zack!" Alex said smoothly, her voice full of amusement as she took over the call.
"I'm Alex, Jane's much cooler sister. She's currently experiencing a minor system overload, but she's definitely still going to that dinner."
Zack's eyes widened as Alex's face filled the screen.
For a moment, he looked genuinely caught off guard, a flash of surprise crossing his face before that signature, confident smirk returned.
"Well," Zack said, leaning back and wiping a bead of sweat from his temple with the towel. "I can see where the good genes come from. You're much more beautiful than your sister."
Alex let out a bright, sharp laugh, completely unfazed by his charm. "Oh, you're dangerous. You really know how to trick girls, don't you, Zack Fin?"
Zack laughed, the sound deep and echoing through the gym on the other end. "I'm just a man of the truth," he teased, his eyes scanning the background of the video. "But seriously... where is she? Where did she hide?"
"She's right here," Alex chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at where I was currently trying to merge with the wallpaper. She stepped back toward me, the camera following her like a spotlight.
"Jane, get out here," Alex whispered-commanded. I shook my head frantically, but she leaned in close to my ear. "If you don't come out right now, I am calling Heather and telling her exactly how much of a coward you're being. I'll even send her the screenshot of your face."
I gasped. She wouldn't. But looking at the gleam in Alex's eyes, I knew she absolutely would.
Having no other choice, I slowly stepped back into the frame. I tried to pull my hoodie sleeves over my hands, my face still burning a deep, radiant crimson.
On the screen, Zack's expression softened instantly. The teasing glint in his eyes didn't disappear, but it was joined by something much warmer—something that felt like a secret just for the two of us.
"There she is," he said softly. He straightened up, looking directly into the lens as if he could see right into my room. "Hey there, Princess. I just wanted to hear it from you one more time. Would you like to go to dinner with me?"
The word Princess sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold. I looked at him—sweaty, exhausted, and yet looking at me like I was the only person in the world who mattered. The blush deepened, but I didn't hide this time.
"Yes," I whispered, a shy but steady smile finally breaking through. "Yes, my Prince."
Zack burst into a genuine, joyful laugh, and even Alex couldn't help but join in. For the first time in two years, the rain outside didn't feel like a barrier. It felt like the backdrop to a story that was finally, truly beginning.
I leaned back against the headboard, the tension finally beginning to ebb away, replaced by a dizzying sense of curiosity. "So, you're at the gym right now?" I asked, trying to sound casual despite the way my heart was still racing.
"Caught me," Zack said, a playful glint returning to his green eyes. He adjusted the phone, propping it up against a weight rack. "Do you want to see my biceps, Jane?"
"No, Zack!" I squealed, half-laughing, half-mortified. "I definitely did not ask for that."
"Well, even if you didn't ask, I have to provide proof," he countered, his voice dropping into that confident, velvety tone. "I have to prove that I'm worthy of taking a Princess to dinner."
Before I could protest again, he shifted his stance. He flexed, and even through the grainy quality of the video call, the result was staggering. His biceps were massive, straining against the air, the definition sharp and powerful. It was a side of him he clearly kept under wraps; at school, his clothes were always chosen to lean toward a casual, lean elegance, artfully hiding the sheer strength he maintained.
I felt the heat surge into my face again, a blush so deep it felt like a fever. "Zack, stop it! Stop or I'm hanging up right now!"
The truth was, I was mesmerized. There was something about the discipline it took to build that kind of strength—and the humility to hide it—that made him even more of an enigma.
Zack let out a rich, triumphant laugh and finally relaxed his arm, throwing the towel back over his shoulder. He looked back at the camera, his expression turning soft and certain.
"I'll pick you up at 6:00 p.m. sharp, Jane. Be ready."
I felt a flutter of pure, unadulterated excitement—a feeling I hadn't hosted in my chest for two long years. I met his gaze through the screen, my voice a soft, daring whisper.
"I'll be waiting for you... Prince."
I cut the call before I could lose my nerve, pressing the phone to my heart. The room was silent again, but the silence didn't feel heavy anymore. It felt like an invitation.
The heavy tension that had filled the room only moments ago shattered, replaced by an electric, giddy energy. Alex didn't waste a second; she dove for her own phone and dialed Heather.
"You will not believe what just happened," Alex shouted into the speaker the moment Heather picked up.
At first, the line was silent as Alex recounted the drama of the cut call and the gym-video-call "Princess" moment. Then, Heather's voice exploded through the phone.
"Jane! You total coward!" Heather laughed, her voice a mix of mock outrage and genuine relief. "I give you the pep talk of a lifetime and you hang up on him? I should fly back right now just to shake some sense into you!"
"I know, I know!" I laughed, leaning against Alex's shoulder. "I panicked!"
"She brushed it off pretty quickly once the Prince started flexing," Alex teased, nudging me with her elbow. "I have to admit, Heather, this Zack kid is something else. He's got that charm that makes you forget how to breathe. He's definitely a heartbreaker in the making."
We spent the next twenty minutes in a whirlwind of laughter and planning. For a few beautiful moments, it felt like the old days—before the funeral, before the silence, before the gray took over.
But then, the cold reality of the house settled back in. My laughter died down as I looked at the bedroom door. "Wait," I whispered, the color draining from my face. "What about Mom?"
Alex and Heather went quiet.
"If she finds out I'm going out with a boy I just met—especially a transfer student—she'll lock the front door," I said, my chest tightening. "She's so protective now. She won't let me go."
Alex saw the "long face" immediately. She reached over and gripped my hand, her expression turning fierce and determined. "Jane, look at me. Don't you dare spiral. I'll take care of Mom. I'll tell her we're going to the library, or that you're helping me with a project. I'll handle the cover story. You just worry about looking like a Princess."
"She's right," Heather added, her voice softening into something steady and encouraging. "Jane, it's going to be fine. You've spent two years being afraid of the world. You have the courage inside you now—Alex saw it, I heard it, and Zack felt it. Don't let a little 'mom-panic' take this win away from you."
I took a deep breath, looking from my sister to the phone where my best friend's voice lived. The fear was still there, but for the first time, it was smaller than my excitement.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
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