“Whatever.”

“Can I ask why you think you need that stuff?”

“You know why, Zach. In fact, you’re obsessed with the very reason why.”

“To escape, right?”

Tank nods. “But your little email has probably ruined that.”

Silence.

“Were you planning on doing anything?” I ask. “With the files, I mean. Did you have a plan?”

“Not yet,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean your plan was the right one, because it wasn’t. Trust me.”

There’s a silence. The morning heat intensifies and seems to burn clear through my skin. We listen as a train passes. When it’s gone, the only sound I hear is the hum of the air conditioner.

I say to my best friend, “I’m in love with your sister.”

“I know.”

“I know you know. What I’m wondering—hell, what everybody’s wondering—is why you haven’t said anything.”

“Because I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

“What moment?”

“Right now,” he says. “For you to actually have the balls to say it to me.”

“Well, I just did,” I say, feeling quite relieved. “I’m serious, Tank. She feels the same way. Sarah loves me. I’m glad to see you feel—”

Mass confusion.

There’s a headlock first—I feel that, Tank’s left arm wrapping around the back of my neck and jerking my head toward his chest. Next comes a sickening smacking sound as his right fist collides with my cheek. The tinny taste of blood fills my mouth as he drags me onto the lawn and body-slams me face first into the grass. His fists press against my ribs as I hit the ground, knocking the wind clear out of me. Gasping for air, I feel the next punch land on my opposite cheek with a dull thud. Fresh blood pours out of my mouth and coats the green grass.

Tank continues delivering powerful lefts and rights to the sides of my face.

That’s when I black out.

Chapter_25

25

When I come to, he’s still punching me, but I hear Sarah’s screaming and Big Dale’s booming voice as they struggle to pull him off of me. Next thing I know, Sarah’s rolling me onto my back and crying as she wipes blood from my mouth with a dishtowel or something. For some reason, the pain hasn’t registered yet. My face and mouth feel numb, like I’ve just had major dental work under heavy sedation. Sarah keeps saying how sorry she is. Over and over again, all I hear is “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I try telling her she has nothing to be sorry about, but the words come out in an inaudible blood-and-saliva-filled mumble.

Then it’s like somebody suddenly gives me an adrenaline shot.