Beauty and the Bastard
It was such a fucked-up word.
I shook the memory off and picked up the final gift. The one I'd been putting off ever since I walked in this room. A bike helmet. I wanted to throw it against a concrete wall until it wasn't even recognizable anymore, but I'd spent over $800 on it. It was a nice helmet, too. Black, with a red outline and lightning bolt patterns that formed the letter Z. At least, I thought it looked like a Z. Either way, it was a nice helmet, it matched Zach's bike, and I was not going to smash it to pieces. Because I didn't want to waste time trying to figure out how to wrap this thing, I instead just slapped a red bow on it with Zach's name on a tag that was attached to it, t
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