A/N: Another short chapter...
Chapter 21:
The only other place Zack could think of to search for Max besides the basketball courts was the theater-house. He wandered the different streets and alleyways, knowing it was futile, but unable to give up hope that she'd be standing round the next corner he turned. There were a lot of vagrants roaming the area and eventually he came across a face he did recognize. One of the boy's from the basketball game, Sunday, still wearing the same yellow shirt. He stood in a group of suspicious looking boys. Mustering courage, Zack carefully approached.
"Excuse me," he began and was shot daggers from all the boys.
"Who the fuck are you?" yellow-shirt demanded. Zack shifted awkwardly.
"I know that you know Max. I played basketball against the both of you last weekend," he said. Yellow-shirt gave Zack a once over.
"You one of the twins?"
"Yeah," Zack could barely hide the relief he felt at the boy's recognition, "Yes, me and my twin were there. I was wondering if...if you've seen Max? Or you knew where I could..."
"Can't help you," yellow-shirt interrupted.
"Will you just hear me out, please?"
"If you're looking to get money from the guy, get in line," one of the other boy's snapped, "Max hussles and scams a lot of idiots, you're not the only one."
"I don't want money," Zack cried, "I just want to know where Max is."
Zack didn't like the way they were now staring at him and he took a subconscious step back.
"Max might be a con and a thief," yellow-shirt bit out through grit teeth, "But he's still one of us and it'll take a lot more than a 'pretty please' from a pretty boy for us to rat him out."
"Okay. I appreciate you're street loyalty and code of honor and whatever...but...I don't want to hurt Max. I just want to talk to he – er – him."
They all looked skeptical. Zack shifted his weight from foot to foot. He sighed, this is getting to be an expensive day, tugged his wallet from his pocket and produced a ten note, held it up for the boys to see. Yellow-shirt attempted to look unimpressed.
"I might know something," he hinted. Zack growled softly, produced another ten. Nothing but glares. Another ten came from the wallet. Yellow-shirt snatched the money, "I haven't seen Max in a few days but you might find him at Saigon Alley, the abandoned warehouse behind the old theater-house on Main and Third. He squats there sometimes."
"That's all you've got," Zack cried, frustrated.
Yellow-shirt shrugged, "Snow season's coming. He might've hopped a bus for warmer terrain."
"Never has in the past," one of the other boy's commented, "I don't know what he loves so much about Boston. If I could hussle like him, I'd'a hightailed it outa here years ago and never looked back. In the winter, it gets colder out here than a hooker's pussy."
Zack made a face and nodded. "Uh...yeah...okay. Thanks." He hurried back towards the theater-house. Saigon Alley was the best lead he had and if she wasn't there – his heart constricted – he didn't want to think about it.
A crowd was gathering round the theater-house, the five o'clock showing of Guys and Dolls was starting soon. Zack rushed through the mass of designer clad people, working his way around to the back of the theater.
"Zachary," a high-pitched squeal pierced his ears. He froze, the bottom of his stomach fell out. Slowly he turned to face the fuming young woman dressed up in a Marc Jacobs lacy dress, and Coach heels.
"A...Abby," he stammered.
"I have just about had it with you," Abigail screamed, a few people looking curiously at the two teens, "First you disappear on our date. You don't return a single one of my phone calls. Then I see you at the coffee shop with another girl!"
Zack arched his brow, confused, "I wasn't at the..."
"And I am so sick and tired of your pathetic excuses! Do you know what I have been through the past few days? Can you even begin to imagine how heartbroken I've been? I almost didn't go for my weekly mani-pedi because of you!"
Zack made a face, "Abby..."
"Look at who I'm talking to! You are such a guy. As if you could even fathom what heart break even feels like! To be so devastated you consider breaking your diet to devour a pint of chocolate ice cream. To not even want to put on make-up or do your hair because you just keep thinking 'what's the point, not like he cares'!"
"I...uh...can't say that I...no..." Zack furrowed his brow, grimaced.
"Have you any idea how much pain I go through to look this beautiful? For my boyfriend to not even be there to compliment me! I just don't understand. I give and I give and I give and I get nothing in return from you!"
"Abby, I..."
"Do you know how hard I try for you? And nothing. No effort! I am so forgiving, and so caring, I give you all my adoration and you don't even have the decency to call when I tell you to! But not this time. I'm not forgiving you for anything less than shiny, fashionable, and 24 karat."
"What? Abby..."
"Don't give me that look! What did you expect? I can't accept all your apologies for free. You need to start showing me that you care! I mean, you do care about our relationship, don't you?"
"Well...no."
"Because sometimes I really get the feeling that...what did you say?" In an instant, all the anger dissipated from her face.
Zack took a deep breath, studied a spot on the cement and told her, "I really don't care about our relationship."
"Wait...how can you...what do you...but don't you...don't you care about me?"
"I'm sorry, Abby. I thought I did. I really thought I did. But...I don't."
Zack barely felt it when Abigail's hand struck across his cheek, all he could think of was how much more the slap had stung when it had been Max's hand.
"How can you say that? Didn't I mean anything to you?" Abby demanded.
"I don't know. No. I don't think you did. I'm so sorry Abigail. I thought I knew what a meaningful relationship was...what it was supposed to feel like...what it was supposed to look like...and now..." he shook his head, "I'm sorry. You deserve so much better than me. You deserve someone who feels..."
This way, he thought, the ache in his chest growing with each second of not knowing where Max was that passed.
"...feels like they can't be without you. And I know that you'll find that person, Abby, but it's not me."
"You cannot possibly be breaking up with me."
"But I am. And I'm sorry, I should've treated you better but maybe now you'll find someone who will."
Abby set an icy glare on him and seethed, "Oh, I know that I can do ten times better than you, Zachary Martin. I can throw a stone and hit someone better than you who would trip over himself to be on my arm. But you? You will never find a girl better than me."
"I don't need to," he murmured, finishing mentally, I just need to find Max.
Abigail made to slap him again but pulled back last minute. She tossed her hair over a shoulder, turned her nose up, spun on heel and breezed away as though nothing had ever happened. Zack watched her part for only a second, before she faded from his mind, and he was rushing off again.
A/N: I like writing Abby. She's not apologetic or easily swayed. I would almost feel sorry for her except she doesn't even feel sorry for herself; just flips her hair and moves on.
Let me know what you think!