The windows were foggy and glazed with ice crystals. The school was quiet and had an eery, chilled, feeling. I was up too early. Way before the morning noise and girls awakening. It was Saturday. No one was awake this early on Saturday. Not even our world famous chefs, or our stealthy teachers. Everything was in a calm. The only noise was the small whistle from the air rushing past Macey's nose ring,a sound I had grown accustomed to, and Bex's soft snore. But I couldn't sleep. I leaned against the cold glass and stared at the snow covered school grounds. My eyes opened wider every minute until I was completely awake and alert. I was fidgeting like crazy, something that I had been told was a habit of mine. I needed to do something. So I slipped on my workout sweats and an old t-shirt, and headed as quietly as possible out the door.
The P&E barn was quiet and cold. The birds fluttered around and chirped as I walked through the wide barn door and made my way to the center. Bex's all time favorite punching bag swayed slightly. I ran my hands down the smooth leather and felt the wet from the condensation rub off on my hands. Then I made a mental note about that condensation and told myself to watch my step so I didn't fall on my butt. My fists found there way to the leather on their own. I hit and punched and kicked. I think I needed it. I needed to get something out. I needed to, vent? Is that the word. I needed to punch. I felt like I had stepped into Bex's body or something. Punching and kicking was her thing. I hid in corners and went for walks. A good right hook, that was something I didn't normally use to let out my inner emotions. A good right hook, I could totally do. Don't get me wrong I can push and shove when push comes to shove, but it isn't my first choice. I just needed it. I beat that leather bag for who knows how long, and then I paused and looked at my hands. The cold had already cracked them and made them red. They hurt. So I punched harder until I just couldn't feel it anymore. Then I didn't have to worry about the pain. My body was on autopilot. I couldn't stop. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't listening. I wasn't watching. I was just punching. That's probably why I didn't hear the birds chirp and the mats squeak. That's probably why I didn't see the tall boy stand next to me. That's probably why I didn't hear him say, "Gallagher girl...Gallagher girl?...Gallag...Cammie?!" Zach gripped my shoulders and took my hands. "Cammie?" He turned me to face him. I hadn't even realized I was crying. But I was. And Zach noticed. "Cammie?" He almost whispered it. "What's wrong?" He cradled my face. It was a romantic, Mr. boyfriend gesture. It made me smile for a second. "Cam?" He lifted my chin and looked me in the eyes.
"I..." I choked out the words. "I don't know..." I cried into his shoulder. His arms held me close and made me feel safe.
"You don't know why your crying?" He almost laughed.
I shook my head against his chest.
"Is that normal?" He sounded sincerely confused. "Like do all girls do that?" My friends and I had been wondering how boys worked for years. But I had never realized they wondered the same things.
I laughed. "Ya...Sorta." I leaned back and wiped my face.
Zach sighed and almost felt guilty as he looked at me and said the words. "I think...I think I know why your crying."
"Oh...?" I asked and raised my eyebrows jokingly. But Zach wasn't joking as he nodded and said, "Ya..."
"And why, Dr. Zach, am I crying?" I didn't expect him to know. I didn't expect him to understand.
"Because you need to." It was something I had never expected to hear from a boys mouth. Especially that boys mouth. So I wrinkled my brow.
He smiled and held me tighter. "I get angry. You cry." He looked me in the eyes and I smiled. "And I think I'll leave you alone to do that. I don't know...I..." He struggled for words. "Maybe I should get Bex..." he turned to find my friends but I didn't let go of his hands. "I need you." I said.
So Zach stayed. He made me laugh and when I needed to cry he stood there running his hands through my hair, letting me stain his white shirt with tears. And even though he might not have known what to do. He did everything perfect.