When I got a text from Zach during school that said, “Can you come get me? It’s serious,” I didn’t know what to expect—but I definitely wasn’t prepared for what came next.
He got in the car without saying much. His hands were trembling, hoodie half-zipped like he’d rushed out in a hurry. I tried to lighten the mood—asked if he’d bombed a test or gotten into a fight.
But he shook his head and said quietly, “It’s not about me. It’s about her…”