Normal
Naturally, Zac continued to ignore me after the venue bathroom incident. Of all possible outcomes, I supposed ignoring me was really the best thing he could do. If we weren’t speaking, then we weren’t yelling. And if we weren’t yelling, then I could convince Seamus that things were all better.
I’ll admit, I did feel a little guilt about lying to him.
I let him ignore me all the way through the drive to Raleigh and even during the concert itself. I let him continue to ignore me that night in the hotel, where I spent a nice relaxing evening watching late night television with Seamus. I should have let him continue to ignore me all the way to Kentucky, but at some point, I just couldn’t take it anymore. My curiosity got the best of me.
We drove through the afternoon and evening and slept on the bus outside the venue. Not a glamorous way to tour by any means, but it got the job done. Getting a hotel in every single city just wasn’t practical or affordable. On an average tour, we spent a lot more time sleeping on the bus, whether it was in motion or not, than anywhere else.
As usual, Zac occupied the back lounge of the bus for most of the drive. Usually, though, he gave up the video games – or at least turned the volume down – when everyone else went to bed. But not this night. It seemed he was determined to keep us all awake with the sounds of guns and lasers. Someone had to put a stop to it, and since I still had a bone to pick with him, I volunteered.
With a soda in hand – I considered it a peace offering – I shuffled to the back of the bus and offered it to Zac. He barely even acknowledged my presence, only glancing up at me enough to see what I had and snatch it from my hand.
Well, this was off to a great start.
“Zac,” I said, sitting down on the couch opposite the one he was sprawled across. “Do you think you could turn the volume down?”
That wasn’t really what I meant to say to him, but it was something. Maybe somehow I could steer the conversation in the direction I actually wanted it to go – namely, the big incestuous crush he had on me.
“I probably could. But I probably won’t.”
Classic Zac. I knew he wasn’t just being obtuse, though. He was angry with me for something I really couldn’t control, and he wasn’t content just to take that anger out on me. He had to make everyone suffer.
I sighed. “Zac… will you please turn the volume down and talk to me?”
“That’s an even less appealing idea,” he replied, but to my surprise, put the game on pause and turned around to face me.
We stared at each other for a moment, like we were both daring the other one to speak first and address the elephant in the room. Zac didn’t ever deal with his problems, though. I knew that. He ran from them, just like me. So he wouldn’t talk first; I had to. “Can we talk about what happened in Asheville?”
“Lots of things happened in Asheville, Tay.”
Now he definitely was just being obtuse. I rolled my eyes. “In the bathroom, Zac. What you did. You kissed me.”
“I’m aware of what I did.”
“Don’t you think that’s something we should talk about?”
He shrugged. “What do you want me to say, Taylor? Do you want me to come out, waving my rainbow flag like you? Do you want me to confess my undying love for you? What do you want?”
“Nothing,” I replied. “Just to understand you.”
“Good luck. I don’t even understand me.”
There was a note of sadness in his voice when he said that, and without thinking, I walked over to his couch and sat down next to him. I realized that Zac had been keeping this huge secret for years, and I didn’t know how he hadn’t totally crumpled under the weight of it. My problems suddenly seemed minor compared to his. But I needed him to know that he wasn’t alone now; he could talk to me and never worry about being judged for whatever it was he felt.
Zac tensed beside me and I was afraid he would jump up and run away. To my surprise and relief, he didn’t. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I knew what I had to do, but I had no clue how to begin. I knew there were no right words, no right way to tell my brother that whatever he felt for me was okay.
How could I even explain that when I myself didn’t understand why it was okay? But I had to. I was too stubborn to let Zac go on beating himself up for something that I had started.
“Zac,” I said, inching closer to him until our legs were just barely touching. “I wish you would talk to me.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
I sighed. “If you won’t talk, will you listen?”
“Probably not.”
“Good enough,” I replied. “Look, I don’t know what you’re going through. I mean, in a way I do. Whatever it is, whatever you’re feeling… it’s okay.”
Zac let out a hoarse laugh. “Right. It’s totally normal.”
“I didn’t say normal. I said okay,” I replied. Zac made a little sound at that, like a snort or a grunt, and I could tell that he didn’t like what I had said. A little softer, scooting a little bit closer to him, I added, “Look, you know I’m the last person in the world who cares about what’s normal or okay. I’m seriously the last person who will ever judge you for this. I just want to know that you’re happy.”
“Yeah, I’m fucking peachy, Tay.”
I actually jumped back slightly at his words. He was still putting up such a wall that it was almost physical, putting a real distance between us and making me want to run away from him. I was at least as stubborn as he was, though, and I wasn’t going anywhere.
“I know you’re not,” I said, my tone as soft and patient as I could manage. “I just want to know what I can do to fix it.”
“You can’t fix it. The damage is already done.”
Damage? Was that really how he saw it? Had I damaged him that one stupid, drunk night? I supposed he was probably right. I should never have done that to him. How was I to know, though, when we never spoke of it again? It was as if it hadn’t happened at all. At least, it had been that way to me. Apparently it hadn’t been that way to Zac at all.
“Why did you do it, Tay?” Zac asked, his voice sounding tiny and far away. He looked and sounded much more like a child than my twenty four year old brother, and I was suddenly disgusted with myself. What had I done to us? To him?
“I was drunk,” I said, knowing even as the words came out of my mouth that it was no excuse at all.
Zac’s frown deepened, his forehead settling into heavy lines that I wanted to reach up and smooth out. “So you didn’t want to do it. You were just drunk.”
“I didn’t – that’s not what I said.” I sighed. I was digging myself a hole and I didn’t know how to get out. How could I get out at all, when I’d first taken up the shovel a decade ago?
“Sure sounded like it,” Zac said, looking away from me and crossing my arms. I couldn’t even fault him for such a childlike reaction; he had been a child back then, after all.
I inched closer to him, even though I knew he probably wanted me anywhere but near him. “What I meant was, I didn’t think about what it meant or what it… would mean. What it would do to us or to you. I just wanted to make you feel good, I guess. I was a dumb kid back then. You might have noticed.”
He let out a tiny little snort. “And you’re so much smarter now?”
I jumped back again, as if he’d actually lashed out at me physically and not just with his words. Zac had a way of always hitting where it really, really hurt, yet somehow it still always surprised me when his verbal jabs were aimed at me.
“I never said I was,” I replied, not even feeling like arguing with him. Usually I at least had it in me to throw a few insults back at him, but I just couldn’t do it when I knew he was right. “I’m sorry, Zac. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“No. You shouldn’t have,” Zac said sharply, turning away from me completely and switching his video game back on.
I knew better than anyone how much he loved to have the last word, and I was fairly certain that was it. What more I could say, anyway? He was right. I shouldn’t have done it, I was an idiot, and the damage was done. Heaving a sigh, I pulled myself from the couch and strode toward the door. With my fingers around the handle, I turned back to look at Zac. He was already so engrossed in his game that he didn’t even notice I was still there.
I wanted to say something, anything at all, to him. But I couldn’t find the words. His brow was still furrowed, and I didn’t know whether it was from concentrating on his game or from being upset with me. I supposed it was probably both. He was biting down on his bottom lip so hard that I feared he might draw blood and I had the awful urge to lick it away if he did.
God, what was wrong with me?
It wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed that Zac was attractive before. He was a good looking guy, and I always wondered why he didn’t seem to see that and why he was still single. Now I knew at least part of the reason for the latter, I supposed.
What bothered me, though, was that I didn’t just find him attractive. I was attracted to him. And yes, there is a difference. I might be a bit of a slut, but I can appreciate a good looking guy or girl without wanting to sleep with them. At least, I thought I could. But when it came to Zac, I was quickly losing sight of that subtle distinction.
With one last look at him – he still hadn’t noticed my eyes lingering – I rushed from the back lounge before I let myself do something really stupid. I didn’t go to my bunk, though. And I didn’t go to Seamus’ bunk either. Instead, I decided that what I really needed was a long shower – both to clear my mind and for… other reasons.
I rushed to the tiny bus bathroom and began ripping my clothes off as soon as the door was shut behind me. I turned the shower on and gave it a few seconds to heat up before stepping under the spray. I should have taken a cold shower and tried to rid my mind of thoughts of Zac that way, but I wasn’t that strong. Not by a long shot. Which is why, nearly as soon as I was behind the shower curtain, my hand was around my cock.
I leaned my head against the wall, trying to catch my breath. I knew I was twisted, but this was a new low for me. Zac hated me, I was sure of it. Yet here I was, jerking myself off furiously, thinking about the way Zac’s lips had felt a few days before. I tried to commit every second of that kiss to my memory, because I highly doubted it would ever happen again. I had to remember it. And if I knew me, this wouldn’t be the only time I jerked off to thoughts of it.
My hand worked quickly, my breathing not slowing down a bit as I drew closer and closer to my orgasm. I was close, so close, and nearly shaking from anticipation. A knock at the bathroom door made me jump, and I banged my head right into the little shelf that held soap and shampoo.
“Fuck!” I yelled, my hand falling away from my cock. Whoever was at the door knocked again, louder.
“Tay?”
It was Zac.