Chapter Seven
❝Softness is not a weakness.
It takes courage to stay delicate in a world this cruel.❞
"What the hell happened?"
By the time Zach showed up, the scene in Anchor's had already become a commotion. The blond had just gotten out of the waves, hair still damp with saltwater and droplets stuck onto his skin, when he spotted his best friend stomping across the beach. But what made him stop his tracks was the expression in Theo's face, a mix of emotions that made his heart clench — hurt, anger, and so, so much pain.
Remembering that he had left the two brothers alone, he raced to the direction from where Theo had gone. It wasn't such a surprise for him to be led to the shack.
What was a surprise for him, though, was seeing Chase curled up in Lenny's arms.
He'd never seen the boy so easily open to a stranger like that before. The kid, even though tended to blurt out anything that came into mind, was actually a very guarded person. Guarded enough to carefully pick the people around him. Similar, in fact, to his older brother.
But for some reason... he'd let her in.
"There was a customer," Lenny said slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. "He said a lot of mean things to Chase, and Theo got angry and — " She looked up at him, desperation and distress in her eyes, "I don't know what to do."
Zach felt for her. For Chase, for Theo — for all of them. Then he heard a sniffle. His eyes drifted down to the boy under her arms.
"Jesus."
He immediately rushed for him, and Chase didn't hesitate to let go of Lenny's embrace to meet with his. Zach hugged the boy tightly, murmuring in his ear with words he knew that would calm him down. Words he learned would bring him back to reality. Lenny watched them curiously.
"I want to go home," Chase whispered, still breathing unsteadily from his tears.
Zach's chest was hurting. When he was fifteen, he didn't expect to be this deeply intertwined in the Samuels brothers' family affairs. He just wanted to be best friends with Theo, the boy who was nice enough to share his lunch when he had none, the boy whose sketches looked as if they were alive.
But things changed.
And when they did, Zach was pulled in the fray. Suddenly he was everywhere with them, experiencing the same pain that went through the brothers. But he wouldn't have changed it any other way. They were family.
His family.
"I need you to go after him."
Lenny frowned. "What?"
"Theo," Zach repeated, swallowing heavily to restrain his emotions that were about to explode. "I need to take Chase back to the apartment, but I can't leave my best friend alone. He needs someone. You have to go after him."
She looked even more baffled, but it wasn't the offensive kind — she was just genuinely confused. "He hates me."
He looked at her for a while. "He told me you were the one who found his sketchbook," he said quietly. "Through an awful lot of cursing, of course, but he managed a few words." He paused. "You opened it, didn't you?"
She stiffened. "It was a mistake," she began softly. "I shouldn't have done that without his permission — "
"Maybe you should've." Her eyebrows furrowed. "Lenny, no one has ever came close to opening it. Hell, I've known him longer than you, and I've never seen a single page of it."
Lenny blinked slowly. "So what does that mean?"
"It means," he drawled, looking at her with enough resolution that it took her aback, "that as much as you think he hates you, and as much as he thinks so himself, he actually doesn't. If he was that bothered by it, he wouldn't even come near you. Trust me, I've seen him hate, and it isn't like that with you." He wiped away one of Chase's tears. "You were the one who helped him that night. I wasn't there for him, but you were. You were there for him."
Zach and Lenny looked at each other in silence. And in that shared moment, a bond formed between them. They both wanted to help. They both cared so much.
But what Zach found astounding was that this girl cared about people she didn't even know.
And that was more reason why he trusted her with his best friend.
"Go."
***
It wasn't hard to find him.
Eleanor knew every inch of the beach, which meant she knew the quietest corners and spots that would render one almost invisible. She knew, because she had spent one or a few times there herself.
One of them being somewhere a little close to a cave.
She wasn't sure if he sensed she was coming. He was sitting alone in the sand, transfixed by the view in front of him. When he still hadn't said anything, she took it as an okay for her to sit next to him, albeit keeping a safe distance.
Sunset had started to colour the skies — fiery oranges and burning yellows, giving the impression that the clouds were blushing. The ocean crashed softly against the shore, and echoes of seagulls sang above them, seemingly close but so far away.
Eleanor closed her eyes, breathing everything in all at once: the strong smell of saltwater, the soft breeze that caressed her cheeks, the sand beneath their feet.
"I've never seen him like that before."
Her eyes snapped open.
Theo's voice was a whisper, almost inaudible from the wind if she wasn't sitting so close. He was still gazing at the horizon in front of them.
She turned to him. "Like what?"
"Crying."
Her frown deepened. Even though she was born an only child, she still knew it was odd to never see your sibling cry before, at least once.
"He's in the spectrum, is he?" she murmured.
Theo gave a curt nod. "It used to be a whole lot worse. He's a really nice kid, but sometimes he's just so misunderstood that he used to go on rampages." He pursed his lips. "Chase wasn't even being provocative. That guy was a fucking asshole."
"He was."
"I wanted to deck him in the face."
"That would've made things worse."
"Like that's any less surprising," he retorted. "I'm always making it fucking wo —"
He suddenly stopped himself. Eleanor could almost feel his own questions burning inside his head: should I keep talking? Can I trust her?
You can.
He didn't seem to agree. She sensed him closing in again, retreating back inside his shell where it was safe. But sometimes seeking shelter wasn't the answer. Sometimes, all you needed was a slight push.
"What did you mean," she started, "when you said you've never seen him cry before?"
He paused, and for a moment she thought she wasn't going to have a reply. But he said, "I simply meant that I was the worst fucking brother in the entire world. Still am." He ran a hand through the sand, watching it fall as it slipped through his fingers. "I was never there for him when he needed me. I guess that's a good thing, because now I know he's far better off without me."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because it's the truth."
Silence.
And the silence grew so loud that she couldn't take it anymore.
"Is that..." she swallowed. "Is that what you meant? About what you said that night?"
His body turned rigid.
"I told you," he hissed, standing up abruptly. "I told you to never bring it up. I told you that was nothing. What part of that did you not understand?"
"The part where it's obviously not nothing!" Eleanor let out, then breathed in, breathed out. "I'm sorry. I know you probably think I'm a fool, but I'm not." She looked down momentarily, before having the courage to look him in the eye.
"Why are you here, Theo?" she asked. "Why did you come here?"
He looked away, shaking his head. It felt like forever until he spoke again.
"To escape."
"From what?"
"From everything," he sighed, ever so ambiguous. "For the most part, from myself. And I guess I came here because... well, anywhere's better than where I was before."
He didn't elaborate. And that was fine — more than fine — because since the moment the two met, this was the most he'd shared with her. And that had to be enough.
As much as you think he hates you, and as much as he thinks so himself, he actually doesn't.
She started to smile.
"You know what I love about this place?" A subject change seemed a better way to show her gratitude. "Not one bit of it has changed. Sure, there's a lot of tourists, but look closely, and it's still the same waves, still the same seashells, still the same smell. People come and go, but the beach itself — " is its own anchor, " — is infinite."
His next words shocked her.
"What I love about this place," he murmured, staring beyond, and she swore she could see the sea reflected off of those eyes, "is that I'm nobody here. And because of that, I can be somebody. Somebody new."
"What's wrong with the old you?"
"It's not someone I'm proud of."
For the first time, there were no harsh lines in his face. His gaze was far away now, like he was reminiscing another place, another time. He was right next to her, but in that moment she felt like he couldn't be any farther.
"Well, I like you either way," she added softly. "Old or new."
He scoffed. "You can't possibly say that."
"Why not?"
"If you knew me before, trust me, you wouldn't say that."
Pause.
"Well," she grinned cheekily, and he turned, eyebrows raised. "It's good that I didn't have the pleasure of meeting you, then."
A/N:
Zach is so underrated. I'd love to get to know his backstory.