Author's Note: Sketchy here! Well, Finn shoved this idea in my face a day or two ago and I liked it. Nuff said. The story is here, voila! As she said, I will be trying to prove Zack's point using his POV. On with the update!

Disclaimer: We don't own TSL or any of the characters, except for Mrs. Bolter, Mr. Shaway and Aunt Mary. Finn owns them more than me though, hehe.

Zack's POV+

Uggh. This is the absolute last place I want to be.

Guess where. Give up?

I'm home.

No one understands that I'm better. I admit that I was into drugs. But I stopped! Everything is back to normal now!

Well, that's a lie. Nothing is normal now.

Aunt Mary says that she's going to stay here at the hotel with Mom for the night and then she'll finally let me stay at home.

Okay, so I lied twice. I'm happy to be home, I really am.

But I'm not happy to see him.

Cody. He used to be my brother. I don't consider him that anymore.

It's all his fault. He could've stopped me from going to that party.

He didn't.

He could've taken all those drugs from me.

He didn't.

He could've made Mom just send me to rehab instead of shipping me off to Mary for two years.

He didn't.

He sent me a letter. It said he "cried at night" and that he "missed me more than anything" and that he "wanted to talk to me" and that he "didn't feel safe." I read that letter and my blood boiled.

So I wrote back, and he deserved every nasty word I wrote on that paper. This one part I remember writing clearly:

You never cared. Never. You could have stopped all this from happening. But you didn't. You just stood there and watched like you always did, and now look where I am. I hate you. I just wish you'd disappear and leave me alone. Drop dead.

I reread that snippet and grinned. That would send him crumpling to the floor. I sealed that envelope and shipped it off without a single regret.

Now I'm sitting back on the couch I've missed for so long. I'm seeing my mother again. I brush my hair, which used to be blond, out of my face and my eyes rest on one thing.

Him.

He glares at me. "What are you doing here?" Mom looks like she's about to punch him, and that comment got an even harsher glare.

"What happened to missing your brother?" I sneer. I look away.

"Great," I hear Cody say. "And I thought my life could get no worse." He stomps off to his – no, our room. I should change that.

"Mom," I say sweetly, "I'm home." Cheesy lines and fake happiness like that are two things I've mastered in my time away from Boston. I stand up and hug her, snickering into her shirt as she takes her icy glare away from Cody's door and looks down at me.

"I love you, sweetie," she says. Fake tears, that's another thing I'm good at now. I well some up and boom, tears of joy.

"I love you too. Say Mom," I change the subject abruptly, "I've come to enjoy my privacy in Oregon. Is there a chance I could have my own room?"

"SAY YES," Cody yells from behind his door, and I know he's been listening. That jerk.

"Well, Zack, I don't know if there's really any room," Mom says. Ah, now time for the secret weapon. Even at seventeen I can pull this one off.

I flash the adorable pair of puppy dog eyes that Cody and I always used to have. Cody's eyes seem too washed with hate to still have them, but I kept the attribute – I always used it to get things from Mary.

I can tell she's wavering, but she says, "Zack, I'm sorry. We just can't put you anywhere, and Moseby will never give us a bigger suite."

I look down in harsh disappointment. Brilliant, I'll be living with him again. I hear a fairly hearty bang from our room and I can tell he doesn't like it either.

"Excuse me," Mom says, the glare returning to her eyes as she starts toward the room.

I look around. Everything is so familiar, it's as if I never left.

I find a picture standing on the bookcase. It's of Cody and me when we were twelve. We both look happy – we're laughing, and my arm is draped lazily over his shoulder. It looks like we're up by the cabana at the pool.

It's disgusting.

To think I actually thought of him as my best friend. I don't even know him anymore.

Mary's looking away. I snatch the picture from the bookcase and conceal it in my jacket, thinking of just how I'll destroy it. This'll be fun.

Cody and Mom are starting to raise their voices in our room. Suddenly the door slams and Cody runs out of the suite. He looks pretty flustered, like he's crying.

Mom doesn't look so angry anymore – still kind of angry, but not really. She looks really worried, though, and she's about to go after him.

"Mom, I'll talk to him," I say, faking sincerity as best as I can.

She looks like she's about to object, but finally she nods. She must still think I'm the only one who can calm Cody down.

Oh, this'll be fun.

XxX

Let's see… I've checked the game room, the pool area, and the restaurant – I can't think of where he might be. Right now I'm just lounging on a couch in the lobby.

"Welcome back, Zack!" Mr. Moseby says, suddenly hovering over me. "The Tipton is excited that you are back home!" I can tell he isn't serious. He actually looks pretty skeptical – the whole drug thing has probably gotten him pretty worried about having me in his precious hotel.

"Thank you, Mr. Moseby," I say nicely. "It's great to finally be here again."

He nods feverishly and walks away rather hurriedly. I chuckle.

"Can I just have my stupid Twizzlers?" an angry voice rings through. I look to my right. Cody's at the candy counter. Hey, Maddie isn't there anymore. Looks like some overly perky teenager. Apparently she's afraid of Cody and his new emo look.

She practically throws the candy at him, ignoring the fact that he didn't pay. He walks angrily back to the elevator, and I'm following silently. I slip in just after he does.

"What's your problem?" I ask, seeing the tears in his eyes. He turns to glare at me.

"You are."

"Hey, I didn't do anything to you. You ruined my life." I can't see how he can pin this all on me all of a sudden.

"I'm just gonna forget you exist," he says icily, "seeing as you've already forgotten about me." The elevator dings before I can respond. Dang it, I had a pretty good comeback planned.

He stomps off to somewhere on the twentieth floor. Probably the gym to throw basketballs at the wall. He always did that when he was angry, at least when we were fourteen.

I glare after him. What a jerk. I can't believe he's angry with me after all he did to me. He never did anything for me. Don't you see why I hate him so much? He always swore he loved me. He always swore he was my best friend.

He didn't mean a word of it.

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