A FEW HOURS LATER ZACH nestled Lizzie in his arms, happy in her warmth. She hadn’t made it through the movie this time either. He squeezed her gently and kissed her soft cheek. His left arm tingled from being under her so he shifted. Her arms tightened around his waist.
He had been so certain on the drive that he would be too late. Finding her alive meant that everything might turn out. He had forgotten how difficult she was to deal with. They were friends since elementary school. Back then she was one of the boys. She and Neveah, both were. Two of the three Musketeers had survived the end of the world. Zach’s chest tightened as he thought of Nev. Why hadn’t he thought of her?
He remembered spending Saturdays with the two of them crashed out on couches watching Lizzie’s movie collection, their very own Breakfast Club.
As he tensed and relaxed his arm trying to get some blood flow back, he marveled at how little Lizzie had changed since he'd seen her. She had hardly recognized him, but other than longer hair, she looked exactly how he remembered her. There were a few more scars on her arms, a couple more holes in her ears, probably tattoos somewhere. She still smelled good, too. Not in a perfume kind of way, but like her. He sat and watched the rise and fall of her back as she breathed.
Lizzie’s body tensed. Spasms shook her arms and legs. Was she fighting someone? “Lizzie?” He squeezed her arm. “You havin' a bad dream?”
“Huh? What the f—” Lizzie’s head spun toward him. She pushed him away. Her eyes stared at him confused, panicked.
“Lizzie. It's Zach. You're safe.”
The haze seemed to clear. “Zach.” She blinked the sleep from her eyes. “Right.” She sighed and collapsed, suddenly seeming even smaller. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”
Zach nodded. “Right before the dice scene.”
“‘Mess with the bull, get the horns.’”
Zach knew the response. “‘Whatta we gotta do to win big? Lose big. Whatta we doin’?’”
“‘Losing big,’” they finished together.
Zach shifted his body. “I gotta pee.”
Lizzie pushed herself up and away from him. “Me first.”
He saw the dark cloud had returned to her eyes. She shuffled off.
Zach called after her. “You got two bathrooms?”
“No. I'll be quick. ‘Sides, guys have bigger bladders.”
That was Lizzie—self-centered and always right. At least from her point of view.
Lizzie fixed breakfast. Sort of. Zach stared at the bowl of cereal.
“Not up to your cooking, I know. Milk's still good. Got it yesterday. Pop Tarts in the toaster. You want orange juice?”
“Thanks.” Zach ate cereal. “It feels weird, like we’re playing house. Like we’re still ten or something.”
Lizzie shook her head. “You must be thinking of someone else. I never played house.”
And I never convinced you to play doctor. He smiled. Not from lack of trying. “How come you stopped answering my e-mails?”
“You don’t know?” Lizzie glared at him.
Zach shook his head. “No.”
“What’s the last thing that happened before you left for Skagit?”
Zach searched his memory. What had he done? She acted like he’d raped her. “No idea.”
Lizzie looked exasperated. “Why do I always have to explain? The cops? Shoplifting? You said you did it. You lied.”
Zach’s brain raced to make sense of her anger. “I took the fall so you and Nev wouldn’t get in trouble. Everybody expected me to be a thief and a no-count. I just fulfilled their expectations.”
“Yes, and?” Lizzie said, expecting an answer.
Zach had no idea what to say. He raised his hands in defeat.
“I deal with my own shit.” She stalked away.
Zach sat and puzzled. So that was it? He’d done the right thing, hadn’t he?
The toaster popped up with the Pop Tarts.
Lizzie came back in and grabbed one. “Hey, I accepted your friend request on Facebook. Good thing, huh?”
Zach nodded. “You still feel like killing yourself?”
“Not so much. I’m over it, the shoplifting.”
Zach started to ask, “Really?” but she cut him off.
“It’s been two years. Besides, you never post. And I’m not good at answering e-mails. Sorry.” Her eyes were intent, probing him. But still, it felt good to hear a live voice again.
How long had it been since he’d talked with anyone? Since Gramps and Dad—. Too much time alone. “What do we do now?”
“Maybe we can go out salvaging.” Lizzie jumped up and headed out of the kitchen. “We can free some cats and dogs.”
Zach chuckled. “Sounds like a blast. We can get some more food.” He followed her.
“You complaining about my cooking? Maybe we'll see Spike.”