Zessa

chapter 15

Zayn

"Where do you want to go?" I ask, turning out of the hospital car park and heading for the freeway.

"What do you mean?" Tessa responds, looking over at me with a raised brow.

"I don't know." I glance back at her. "Do you want to go to a hotel? To your mother's house?"

"Why can't we just go back to your apartment?" She glances in the side mirror and frowns. "Is it still, like, a crime scene or something?"

"No." I shake my head. "They looked it over and cleaned up last week. I just – I didn't know if you wanted to go back there."

"It doesn't matter to me."

I look at her in profile, the way her lower lip curls over her chin, the way the tiny wisps of white-blonde hair at her hairline catch and filter the light of the newborn sun. For a moment, she turns and looks back at me with a soft half-smile, and then her expression morphs into shock.

"For God's sake, watch where you're going!" she exclaims. I jerk the steering wheel back to center, barely missing the road sign I'd been headed straight towards.

I burst out laughing. "Shit, I'm sorry." I glance back at her, but this time I don't let my gaze linger.

She rolls her eyes and leans back in her seat, giving an exasperated laugh. "Would've sucked if I'd just left the hospital only to get killed in a car smash barely fifteen seconds away."

A cold feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. "Yeah," I reply under my breath. "Would've sucked."

The freeway flashes by us, rose-hued in the thinning dawn, quiet except for the faint music of birdsong and the wind straining itself through the evergreens. The sun rises cold behind the sparse forest, sending shafts of silver light arcing through the shivering air.

"So we're going back to your apartment, right?" Tessa asks quietly, fidgeting with the edge of her WSU sweatshirt. "I really don't mind. It's not a big deal."

"Sure." I give her a sidelong glance. She looks tired and anxious, and she meets my eyes cautiously, almost warily. "If you don't care, I don't care."

She looks away and frowns to herself again. "Well, where have you been sleeping these past two weeks?"

"At the apartment."

"Exactly. So why do you have a problem with me going back there?" Her voice catches a little, but she corrects herself.

"I don't," I reply stubbornly.

"You obviously do," she snaps. "You get so defensive every time I bring it up. If you have some sort of issue with me staying at your place, why don't you just tell me and I'll go somewhere else."

"It's not like that."

She scoffs. "Then what is it like, then? I don't get it."

"It's just – " To stall for time, I switch lanes. Then switch lanes again. "Tessa, we – we can't both sleep on the sofa."

She's silent. I want to look over at her, but I can't. I know there's nothing to be afraid of, no one to be afraid of, and I know this fear is irrational, but I can't bring myself to go back in that room. I just can't do it.

"Zayn."

I take a deep breath. "Yeah?"

She hesitates. I can feel her looking at me, but I don't take my eyes off the empty road. "He's in jail now, isn't he?"