Zach waited beside my locker the following day, ready to be my back-up at the police station. Not that I feared that anything would happen, but it was nice to know that he wanted to support me. I had an inkling that he might be preparing himself to speak to them about his sister, but we didn't know what kind of evidence Mel might find in Clara's computer yet--which meant that Zach's business with the police had to wait a few days.

He held his chin high as we entered, but his clenched fist was a tell-tale sign that he was more nervous than he wanted to let on. It amazed me that I already understood parts of the silent language he spoke.

We were greeted by a short woman standing behind a counter that hid most of her. "Hi boys, what can we do for you today?" She sounded far too sweet to be a police, but she wore her uniform with certainty.

"I'm Dylan, looking for Amber Taylor."

She smiled. "That would be me." She left her desk and reached out with her hand. "I believe my husband sent you."

I smiled at the thought of the two of them together. They certainly made an odd couple, but I could somehow picture them together in a small house with lots of kids. She had that familiarity about her that put others at ease--something she shared with her husband. The disparity between them came from their difference in height. Mr. Taylor was taller than most, and his wife barely reached my shoulder.

I took her hand. " Yes, thanks for meeting me."

"No problem. Bert revealed a few details about the case, but I want to hear it from you if you don't mind." She waved us into the station.

I began to follow, only to pause when I realized that Zach hadn't moved at all.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah."

He didn't look okay. "You sure?"

This time he didn't answer.

"I'll be fine on my own if you want to do something else," I said, hoping that was enough to cool his nerves.

He gave me a short nod and turned on his heel, obviously anxious to be far away from law enforcement. A brief second I played with the thought that he had something to be worried about other than his sister, but I waved the thought away. I doubted Zach would have volunteered to come with me to begin with if that was the case.

"Dylan?" Mr. Taylor's wife called, standing by an open door at the end of the corridor. I tried to forget about Zach's discomfort and strode to meet her.

She showed me into a room that must have been her office. I was glad she didn't put me in a sterile interrogation room because that would have freaked me out even if I was the one coming with allegations, not the other way around.

"Please, sit, Dylan." She gave me a smile that put me at ease.

We settled, and then she pulled out a recorder. "I hope you won't mind." She pointed at the device.

"No, it's fine."

"Great. So, why don't you start from the beginning. State your name first, please." She sat back in her chair and smiled again, succeeding well if her intention was to calm me down.

"Right. I'm Dylan O'Connor. I'm here to talk about Tobias Forrest, a former boyfriend and teacher." I squirmed in my seat. It was harder than I thought to open up all those messy memories and share them with this sweet woman.

I took a deep breath, trying to settle down. "I met Tobias when I started Junior year. He taught English and offered me extra help because I was falling behind. It wasn't a problem, really, but I think he singled me out for other reasons. Not that I knew that when it started, but I'm pretty sure about it now."

Mrs. Taylor smiled, folding her hands in her lap, but didn't comment.

"I was attracted to him. Teenage hormones and all that. Maybe the thrill as well." Fuck. I ran a hand through my hair. This shit was embarrassing to talk about. "It started slow, but I think we took the steps simultaneously. I can't blame him for starting the relationship, but he didn't push me away, either."

I thought about that first kiss, the excitement I felt as he locked the classroom door and pushed me up against it.

"We kept it a secret of course, stealing meetings whenever he was free. Sometimes at his place, sometimes at mine. A few times at a hotel."

Mrs. Taylor leaned forward. "What type of relationship did you have?"

"I called him my boyfriend."

"Did you have intercourse?"

"Yes."

"How old were you when this happened."

"Seventeen."

"That's statutory rape in this state, I hope you're aware of that."

"I'm fully aware of that, and so was he. It was consensual when it happened, even if I know I wasn't old enough to give consent." I sighed. I hated that part, but if it might help my case, then maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to reveal.

"Just making sure. Continue, please."

I tried to make myself more comfortable in the chair, but didn't succeed. Feeling my hands twitch, I placed them beneath me. "We were together for five months before he started getting weird. At first, it was minor things, but he blamed paranoia of getting caught when he tried to control what I was doing. It was difficult for me to separate what was concern and what was control at that point, but I got a hang of his ways after a while."

I stole a glance out the window, watching the wind breeze through the trees outside. Calm down, I told myself. Still staring out through the window, I continued. "When he told me that my weekends were his, I snapped. Even if I thought I was in love with him, I had other things to do on weekends, and it deteriorated from there. When I said no, he became worse--telling me how ungrateful I was and how no one would want me after he was done with me. I don't think I understood how damaging that was until I finally got away."

I thought about the way I had transformed from a happy teenager to someone who looked at their own shadow far too often. Mom was perceptive. Without her, I might still be in Tobias clutches.

"Mom realised that something was wrong when I began to disappear too often, and also that my grades fell apart. She thought I was doing drugs, but when the tests came back clean, I decided to tell her what was wrong. She almost set the school on fire when she approached the staff and they dismissed her concerns. When the police in town did the same, we moved across the state and we ended up here. Last month, Tobias got a temporary position at the school I fled to, and he started to harass me again."

Mrs. Taylor made a couple of notes, and I sat back in silence.

"Let's go over a few things in more detail," she said, and even though I sighed, I felt relieved. She took me seriously.

------

When I walked out of the station two hours later, I was exhausted. It had been less than pleasant to relive the memories and try to delve into details I thought I had forgotten, but Mrs. Taylor continued with her calm questions and a bucket load of patience.

I grabbed my phone and considered my options. I should call Zach, but I was unsure if I had any energy left to face him. I wanted to be there for him, but I had a feeling that I wanted someone to be there for me as well. He had heavier things on his mind, however, so it wasn't fair.

Sitting down on a bench outside the entrance, I changed my mind and called him.

He picked up on the second ring. "You done?" he asked. No hello.

"Yeah. What's up?" I tried to sound cheerful and careful at the same time.

"Waiting for you to call. You still at the station?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there in a few."

I didn't have time to reply until the call ended.

Exhaustion and adrenaline battled within me while I waited, feeling light headed when Zach finally stopped his mom's car outside the station. Catching sight of Zach's weak smile behind the window, my worries stopped and allowed me to open the car door and claim the seat.

"Hey," I said.

Zach's fingers played on the steering wheel. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay."

"Are you okay?" he asked as he pulled away from the curb.

"I will be. Kinda tired now, though."

"Thought about calling Mel and see if she's done. You up for that, or do you want to head home?"

I considered my options, and my tired brain, reaching the conclusion that Zach was more important. "I'm fine. Make the call if you want."

Zach let out a soft breath, another little sign that I thought I could interpret. It made me smile. He wasn't so hard to read, after all. I leaned over the seat and gave kissed his neck, unable to keep away when my emotions were bursting in all directions at once.

He grinned and rolled his eyes. "I'm driving, Dylan. You'll cause a crash if you continue."

I laughed. He laughed. And right then, I didn't feel tired at all.