Seventeen
Saturday evening, even laterI make it out of the theatre and around the back before Zak catches up with me.
“Coral, wait.”
I freeze. I can’t think. I can barely breathe.
What he said in there—in front of everyone—can’t be true. Can it?
“Please,” he says, “talk to me.”
Words won’t come out, so I just laugh.
“Okay…” He flashes me that patented Zak Marlin grin. “I’ll talk.”
He kicks himself a little closer. Part of me wants to close the distance more. Part of me wants to put even more space between us.
In the end, I split the difference and stay where I’m at.
Zak’s grin turns into something softer, something I’ve never seen before. Looks like I’m going to have to add a #11 spot to my list.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out a way to say it sooner. Or, you know—” He gestures
