Page 69 of Your Rule to Break
Mom
seems like poor timing with the wedding
Next, she sends a link to an article. It’s basically a few pictures of Zack and me outside of Pulse and Needle. Us in the car before, us inside—blurry and zoomed in—and us kissing after the tattoos. It's not the first time I've seen it.
hope you’ll be able to cover up whatever you put on your body forever
it’s your sister’s wedding for crying out loud. You couldn’t wait a couple weeks?
I roll my eyes and show the text exchange to Zack.
He scoffs. “It’s not like you’re in the wedding. Do you think your sister will even care?”
“I don’t think she will. And I did bring stuff to cover it up, just in case.”
Zack holds my hand, drawing circles on my palm. “Don’t worry about her.”
Me
We’re about to board in a few minutes
I'll chat with Eliza when I get there
There’s no way to have this conversation with her right now. I knew she’d see those pictures eventually, but I just hoped it would be after the wedding. I close my eyes and realize how annoyed I am but I'm not spiraling. When I got the tattoo, which I still love, it came to me: no matter how much I do to please my parents, they’ve never relented or had it be enough. I can’t do enough for them to look at my choices as my own, instead of something that impacts them.
I thought my mom calling it out would make me panic, anxious. But I’m not really any of those things. I’m fucking proud of myself.
“Hey, ugh, hate to bother you, but can we get a photo?” a dad and his son ask Zack. They’re both wearing Cosmo T-shirts, and the kid looks like he’s going to scream in excitement.
Zack, like the guy he is, jumps up. “Absolutely! Do you want me to sign your shirt or anything, little man?”
I hand Zack a Sharpie I keep in my bag, Willow tends to need them when we’re out in public too, and I grab the dad’s phone to take pictures of the interaction. Zack doesn’t rush them, even when a few people stand on the edge of our small bubble, also wanting a photo.
I take pictures with fans of all ages and types. Zack gives out high fives and takes quality photos, always hitting a couple different poses, and the whole thing makes me ache. How kind he is. How happy he makes me.
Zack is currently talking to a nine-year-old girl about how she joined her youth football team and wants to be a long snapper, just like him. When she knows his position, I swear he’s choking back tears.
“You seem to be a very lucky woman. You can tell a lot by how someone treats strangers,” an older woman, maybe the little girl’s mom, says quietly in my ear.
The comment catches me off guard, only because I was just thinking it. It’s like she read my mind.
I smile at the woman, and then at Zack. “Believe me, I know.”
After a four hourflight, and a thirty minute drive from the airport, we pull up to the resort. I'd looked it up online and knew it was going to be ridiculously nice, and expensive—Mitch and Eliza wouldn’t have it any other way. Even with the preferred room rate, I was twitching thinking about the cost to stay for the wedding—sweating when I was booking it earlier this year.
“It’s fucking beautiful here,” Zack says in awe, giving me his hand and helping me out of the car.
It really is. The pictures online didn’t do this place any sort of justice. Plus, it’s 82 degrees and sunny—perfect beach weather.
We reach the front desk to check in, and Zack steps in at the last minute.
“I’m Zack Andersen, I called a few days ago about the room for me and my girlfriend.” My heart feels like it’s beating loud enough that the entire lobby can hear it when he calls me that.
“Yes, yes. The upgrade. We’re all set; let me pull it up for you.”
I grab his arm and turn him toward me. “What do they mean upgrade?”
“Well, I called to see what other rooms they had, just in case there was something amazing, you know? There was and I paid the difference. I almost paid for the whole thing but I didn’t think you’d like that very much.”