Track 07: Lost Cause
“In that moment, I found who I was.
The very best of me would only ever be
your lost cause.”
9 years ago
“ZACH.”
I stood, nervously wiping my hands on my shorts. I’d been sitting and waiting on the white-washed steps of his front porch for him to get home, refusing to admit that this was slightly stalkerish. He looked like Clark Kent walking towards me—solid and sexy Superman mixed with down-to-Earth farmer—in his ripped jeans and a plain tee stretched over his chest, varsity jacket, and that ‘Bama hat on. They’d had a football farewell with the team today; Ash had a dentist appointment afterward which is how I knew that waiting here, patiently not stalking Zach’s house, would get me a private conversation with him—something that he’d been clearly avoiding like the plague ever since my performance.
I watched as his steps slowed and his eyes narrowed on me. His jaw ticked in annoyance. What was I expecting after the whole graduation party performance last weekend…
Ash had reamed me out later that night for embarrassing the both of them—and myself. ‘How could you do that to me? To him?’ He’d made it painfully clear that I was like a little sister to Zach and that he would never think of me that way so I should grow up and move on.
I couldn’t.
Ash didn’t know. He didn’t know what I felt. He didn’t know about the treehouse.
He didn’t know that deep down, Zach had to feel the same.
He had to.
Just like the sun rises and the seasons change.
“What are you doing here, Blake?” he asked tightly, stopping a few feet in front of me.
I tugged my shorts down slightly, hating how I swore I’d stand here confidently and was doing anything but. I bit into my tongue, my teeth searching for the piece of gum that I’d refused to allow myself until I spoke to him.
“I wanted to talk to you,” I said, wringing my hands before shoving them in my pockets so that I would stop fidgeting with them.
Ever since prom night, there was something different in the way that he looked. For the longest time, I looked at him as this perfect thing that I’d always want and would never have. Like a yacht. Or a record deal.
“I think you’ve said enough.” Unyielding eyes met mine.
“That’s not fair, Zach Parker,” I accused with a twinge of hurt in my voice. “I wasn’t the only one in the treehouse that night. You knew it was me. And you still stayed. You can’t just pretend like you didn’t participate—like you didn’t want it, too.”
His eyes were on fire, but there was nothing warm about his gaze.
“Is this really what you want, right now?” he asked with a strained voice, dropping his backpack onto the ground beside him, his hands resting on his narrow waist. “I’ve been trying, Blake. I’ve been trying to stop this as painlessly as possible, but you just. Keep. Pushing. The tree house… then the party… and now, here you are, begging to be fucking crushed.”
“No, I’m here because I want you to admit the truth to me,” I charged.
“The truth?” he scoffed. “Alright. Let’s start with this: do you think I didn’t know?”
“I don’t understand. Know what?” My forehead scrunched in confusion and my arms folded over my chest.
“Do you think that I don’t know about the huge crush you’ve had on me for basically ever?”
I winced. “N-no… I don’t know…”
He stepped closer to me. “Let me walk you through this so that this conversation doesn’t have to happen again.”
Gulp.
“I’ve known about your crush; it’s been pretty obvious. I kept thinking that as you got older, you’d stop hanging out with us and you’d get over it. But you didn’t,” he paused, exhaling harshly as he pulled his baseball cap off and ran his hand through his hair. “Then I figured that I’d be moving and you wouldn’t have a choice. But then, you hold my prom date hostage in my own—” he broke off, lowering his voice, “—goddamn house. Did you really think I wouldn’t know it was you?”
I blinked rapidly trying to coax the tears back into my eyes; only some of them were persuaded. Stubborn jerks.
“So then why did you stay?” I asked softly. “I heard you… I felt you. I know you wanted me.”
I was like Dory from Finding Nemo. Except, instead of swimming, I just kept pushing.
“Christ, Blake.” He let out a harsh laugh. “Let me explain something to you. I’m eighteen years old. My body? It wants to have sex regardless of most anything. So yeah, you ‘felt’ something—but that something wasn’t special; it wasn’t for you.”
I recoiled. I pushed too far and he wasn’t going to spare me.
Stupid, Blake. You shouldn’t have come here.
“And why did I stay? Because for some screwed-up reason, I thought that maybe if I just got you off, it would get me out of your system.
Tears tracked hotly down my face. I hated him for what he said. I hated him for the lies.
“I d-don’t care what you say,” I insisted, raising my chin up stubbornly, “I know what I felt and what I felt was real. It’s always been real between us, Zach. No matter what you try to tell yourself about that night.”
He let out a long, frustrated groan, looking up at the sky before pinning me with a hard stare. I watched him and the battle that was shredding him on the inside. I wished I knew what sides were fighting so I could pick one. Instead, I only got to see which one won.
“Blake, I care about you because you’ve been like a sister to me for most of my life. I’m sorry if that led to something more for you, but it didn’t for me. And even if it did, I’d never in a million years pursue it; Ash would kill me. But this needs to stop. I’m leaving for college and you need to grow up and move on. I’m sorry if what happened led you on, but this… us… is never going to happen. We are never going to be together.”
Each word was like a bullet to my beaten heart.
He closed the distance between us. My breath came in rapid spurts as I tried to survive his coldness and his closeness.
“Say it,” he demanded.
I was trapped. Closing my eyes, I shook my head. I wouldn’t—couldn’t. I had no choice.
“Say it, baby Blake.” This time he gripped my chin and forced me to look at him; he forced me to watch my own heartbreak. “Say it right now.”
My lip quivered, salty tears leaking into my mouth as the words tasted like acid on my tongue.
“W-we are… never…” I sucked in a sob and he only held my face harder, waiting for the rest of it, “… g-going to be t-together.”
I ended with a sob and that only made him angrier. Probably because of the scene I was making on his front lawn.
“Good,” he said raggedly, dropping my chin like I was a leper. “Now do whatever you have to do… go write a song about it if that’s what it takes to get it through your thick skull.”
He stepped around me, walking up the steps. His footsteps stopped, but I didn’t turn. With a voice that seemed too soft and too defeated to be the one that would crush my soul, he said over his shoulder, “That night wasn’t real, Baby Blake. That night was a mistake.”
I was wrong. So wrong. He never cared about me. He never wanted me.
All he did was hurt me. If he cared, he wouldn’t be doing this.
Screw you, Zach Parker. I don’t care if you taught me how to rollerblade or that you took the training wheels off my bike even when Ash said I wasn’t ready; I don’t care if you helped me with my science homework or always made sure to play ‘Happy Birthday’ to me on your guitar even when Ash gave you shit for it. I don’t care if everyone thinks you are the nice-guy quarterback. You aren’t nice—you are a liar.
A redneck, heartbreaker who was really bad at lying.
I was going to write a song because the hurt was too much to be contained inside me.
I was going to write a song and then I was going to become famous and forget all about Zach Parker because, ‘We were never, ever going to be together.’