Point of View: Zoe
I left first crack of dawn. I think I even beat the birds. I know I beat Kayla. But that was part of the plan. Kayla couldn't come and she didn't want to see me go because she didn't want to be tempted to come anyways.
She had an appointment with Dr. Haseltine to contend with.
I loaded the Prius up with two duffle bags of clothes for me, Nick's suit, and an assortment of men's hygiene equipment - razors, shaving cream, shampoo, body wash, cologne, deodorant - and climbed into the car, stuffing my crutches in front of the passenger seat. I made sure everything was in check, then backed out of the driveway.
The drive up was quiet. Kevin's words from the day before - that Nick looked horrible - kept running through my head. I was almost afraid. Nick had looked terrible when I'd seen him last, but it had been even longer now, and Brian, who had gone up with Kevin and seen Nick after Kevin had, said he looked way worse than he had when we’d all gone up together to see him that first time.
When they let him into the visiting room, though, even my constant mental preparation hadn't been enough.
"Oh Nick," I gasped when he stepped in. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, as though an elephant was standing on my chest. He looked worse than horrible, he looked like he was already dying. I literally could feel my heart breaking.
Seeing that it was me, a look of fear crossed his face, and his hands touched his chin, covering what could be almost considered an official beard at this point, and he glanced around. "She isn't here," I said, knowing he was looking for Kayla.
Nick looked at me and his hands slowly lowered from his face.
"Aren't they feeding you?" I asked. His cheeks were sunken in around his jaw a little bit.
Nick nodded.
“Are you sure?” I asked. He nodded again. "I came to help you get ready for the trial," I explained. I waved my hand at the opened bag of supplies. The warden had dug through it carefully and taken the razors, saying those could only be used under supervision. He watched as I reached into the bag and pulled out all the cleansing stuff. "If you go get clean, we'll put your suit on you so I can alter it up."
"Why bother," he muttered, "I'm not gonna get out."
It was the first words he'd spoken since stepping into the room. It was a relief to hear his voice, even if it was etched with pain and deeper and scratchier than usual from disuse. But the words he’d spoken… they sent a chill down my spine. He's given up, I thought.
I pushed the supplies into his arms and he stood there, awkwardly holding them. "Nick," I said in my sternest voice, "Go take a shower."
He stared down at the stuff in his hands and frowned.
"Nick?"
He looked up at me, "Zoe I'm scared."
"I know," I said, "We all are."
"Not like I am," Nick answered. "You guys aren't here. You guys don't know. I almost got fucking attacked the other day. This kid I made friends with - I dunno what happened, he's gone, they transferred him. There's no reason for me to live here, nothing. I can't even see out a window." He put the bottles of shampoo down on the table, "I'm going to die here," he said. "I understand Eric now."
"Nick, you are not going to die," I snapped, not bothering to ask who the hell Eric was.
His eyes leveled with me, "I would rather die than live here for the rest of my life."
“Stop that.”
Nick looked away.
“Go shower, I’ll be waiting here.”
When he’d left the room, I dropped shakily into the plastic chair at the table and buried my face into the crook of my arms. I wasn’t going to cry, I told myself.
I lied.
The room was blurry from tears still when he came back. His shaggy hair was wet still and slicked back and the officers had evidently supervised because his beard was gone and the sunkeness of his cheeks was that much more evident. They’d given him fresh seafoam scrubs and they fit better so it became more evident how skinny he was now. He’d started out skinny. Now it was worse. His head looked too big for his body, like those creepy Bratz dolls because of the weight loss. I blinked up at him.
“Are you crying?” he asked, concern flickering across his face. I noticed the purple-tinted skin around his eyes and the tears started afresh. He moved toward me and sat down in the other plastic chair and pulled me over to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m sorry, Zoe,” he muttered into my hair.
“I should be hugging you,” I said. “You’re the one going through hell.”
He was quiet a moment, then kissed the top of my head and whispered, “Maybe its just as hard watching someone go through hell as it is going through it? I don’t give you guys watching this enough credit, I guess.” I started sobbing afresh. His poor golden heart deserved so much better than this – than any of this. “Hey,” he said, reacting to my fresh sobs, “Hey, Zoe, please, what can I do to make you feel better?” he asked.
“Have hope,” I answered. “Don’t give up. Don’t.”
“How?” he asked, even the tone he asked that in sounded hopeless.
“Any way possible,” I said, “We’re getting you out. We’re working on it. Kevin’s here to help. All your friends are working so hard. And Kayla’s seeing Dr. Haseltine, so she’ll feel better when you ---“
“What?” Nick’s voice pricked, “Kayla’s what?”
I froze. Oh shit. SHIT. Why did I have to open my big mouth for?
“Why is Kayla seeing Dr. Haseltine?” Nick implored, perplexed looking as he pulled away out of our hug.
I wrestled with piecing together the reply. “She… she’s been… struggling… with… with dealing with the whole… Leon thing.”
He stared at me. “Why, what’s wrong with her? Is she okay? What’s wrong? What happened? Is she okay?” Panic rose in his voice with each question.
Shit.
“She’s okay, Nick, she just needed to talk to someone about—“
“I’m a terrible boyfriend,” he said suddenly, his voice sad.
“What?”
“She should be able to talk to me and I’m not there, so she had to go to a fucking psychologist,” he said, frowning.
“Nick, she would’ve needed to anyways,” I said, “Kayla’s got some serious issues going on.”
Nick stared at me.
“She’s going to be okay, Nick.”
He shook his head, “I should’ve been there.”
“It’s not like you chose not to be there,” I said, waving my arms around the room. “Besides, Nick, you were there to save her…”
“He shouldn’t have been near her to begin with!” Nick shouted, “I should’ve kept him from her at all!”
I sighed. “Nick, you didn’t know.”
He looked at his feet and shook his head, “I just want to protect her.”
“I know,” I said.
Nick looked up at me, “I love her so much, Zoe.”
“I know,” I said.
“She loves me back, right?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
Nick was staring at his hands now, wringing them, staring down at them. I reached over and laid my hand over them, and he stared at my hand for a long moment before looking up at me again. When he did, I was struck by the crystal blue eyes, coated with a sheen of tears and deep emotion. The world was in those eyes – a heavy world – and I could see all the frustration, fear, grief and pain that he felt in them, like orbs of truth…
“You’re a good man, Nick. And it’s a lie that the good die young, so don’t let that scare you. You’re gonna get out of here and have a wonderful life, one that’s full of joy and happiness.” His nostrils flared and I could tell that this meant he was trying not to cry. I rubbed his hand gently. “I love you Nick, I love you deeply; like a son. Just so you know.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
