It’s in that little pink envelope in my room.
“Okay,” I say finally. “Yeah. A ride would be good.”
Honey nods once, like she was expecting that. She straightens, raising her voice just enough to reach the jukebox. “Alright, boys—song’s over. Come on back.”
Chris picks up Ella, who’s still singing along to the song playing, as Reese trails behind.
I paste on a smile for Ella’s sake, but the whole time I’m gathering her coat and my bag, my stomach won’t stop twisting. Jamie’s apparently missing.
His family doesn’t know where he is, and yet somehow I do, and I have no idea what to do with that.
“Ella’s finally down,” I announce in a hushed voice as I pad into the kitchen where Zach is hunched over a Tupperware container like it owes him money.
Chicken, sweet potatoes, broccoli. Again. The same sad, joyless meal he’s been forcing down his throat all week. It shouldn’t make me sad, but it does. Ever since Honey asked fora break, meal prep’s become the new love of his life. It’s strict, predictable, and stable. Basically, everything she’s not.
He grunts in acknowledgement, shoveling more of the food into his mouth, not looking up from his phone. I hope he’s looking through game footage and not pictures of him and Honey like last week.
“Good day?” he asks, finally glancing up. Exhaustion paints his face, and it’s not just from the faint bruise forming along his jawline. It’s his eyes. They’re empty, and although they’ve been that way for months, it hits me harder today, knowing how much better Honey’s taking it all.
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “Studied for my GED while Ella was napping. Then we went to the diner and the park with—” I stop and wince, the words catching in my throat. I’m usually better at covering my tracks.
Zach's fork pauses halfway to his mouth, his eyes narrowing into little slits. “You saw Honey, didn't you?”
I can’t lie to him. Not when he outright asks like that. “Uh, yeah.”
“Was she with Chris?” His voice is flat, but I don't miss the white-knuckle grip on his fork as he closes his eyes, bracing for the impact.
Now is when I’d really like to change the subject. “Um…”
“Tiff, don't lie to me.”
I sigh. “Yes, but Reese was there too, so it wasn’t like it was a date or anything.”
“Date?” The food on his fork drops back into the bowl before he viciously stabs at the chicken. “Reese didn’t say a word? That’s my fucking teammate. He’s supposed to have my back, not sit quietly while Chris is all over Honey. Fuck me.”
“It wasn't like that,” I start, but who am I kidding? The only person who can’t see the way Chris looks at Honey is Honey herself. She thinks they’re just friends. It’s obvious he wantsmore, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. Honey and Zach—well, they’re destined to be together, they just need to figure outhow.
“Whatever.” He shoves the food in his mouth, chewing with more force than necessary. “I’ve already told you not to feel bad about seeing her.” It would sound more truthful if there was less anger in his voice while saying it. “Ella loves Honey, and she’s a huge part of your life here. A part I’m not willing to take away from you.” He swallows hard. “Ella doesn’t need to know there’s anything going on between Honey and me.”
He stabs another piece of chicken, then looks up, his voice softening slightly. “And you need the support. You know that.”
I nod, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and guilt.
“Oh, and you need to call Madison,” he adds, changing the subject. “She's been texting me asking how you are, and she's not even my cousin.”
I laugh at her antics. “Maybe not, but she views you as cousin-adjacent.”
He raises a brow, unimpressed. “Last time she called, she complained for an hour about how Cade wouldn’t let her dress up his dog.”
I wince. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to call her.”
“You should,” he says pointedly.
“She was there for you when all the Jamie stuff happened,” Zach reminds me, his expression darkening at the mention of Jamie's name. “She just wants to help you.”
I want to help them through this the same way they’ve helped me, but equally, I don’t want to pry. Honey puts on a smile and acts like nothing is happening. She works with her father even though I know she hates it, all because she wants to help me.
Zach’s worse. He’s grumpy around everyone except Ella and has put so much focus into football that I’m worried he’s going to get injured before he can even start his career.