I stand there, shell shocked and grieving. No amount of self loathing could have countered this. I turn around slowly, to see Zach, still wincing, his hand on his shoulder and I walk up to him.
“You okay?” He rotates his arm, and his face twists painfully.
“I have the finals tomorrow, f**k!” I wipe off the blood on his face, with my sleeve, and my conscience pricks me even worse when I remember whose t-shirt I had on. The irony is brutal. And it’s on me. Everything is, in fact.
I f****d us up. All three of us.
“Zach, I need to tell you som-“
“Tomorrow. After the win. I’ve had my fill for today.”
He grunts once more in pain, before taking me in an embrace, and I wrap my arms around his neck, crying silently, the strong cold wind hitting us both on the empty ground.
“I love you
