Something Harder
Zac and Taylor’s paths hardly crossed for the next week. Zac knew that it was certainly intentional on his part, and he had a feeling it was on Taylor’s part, too. He went to class early and stayed late in the library afterward just to stay away from his apartment. At least his thesis proposal was well underway, even if the rest of his life was falling further and further apart.
As for Taylor, Zac occasionally caught fleeting glimpses of him, coming or going from shifts at work that seemed to last all day when Zac was sure his job was only part time. Some nights he wasn’t sure if Taylor had actually slept in the apartment at all. The only proof he had been there at all were the few dirty towels he left in the bathroom and the dinners left in the oven to keep them warm for whenever Zac finally arrived home again.
The fact that Taylor was still all but waiting on him hand and foot—Zac was positive Taylor had even done some of his laundry for him—only made him feel worse. Yet Taylor was obviously trying to avoid him, too, and so Zac didn’t feel so bad about hanging around campus longer than usual. It gave him time to talk to Melissa and get to know her better, even if he guarded his secrets carefully from her.
It wasn’t until Saturday night that Zac and Taylor’s schedules aligned again. Although he and Melissa had talked about hanging out that night, they hadn’t made definite plans, and so after staying in the library until her shift ended and then eating dinner with her on campus, he finally trudged back to the apartment.
He had listened, just past the door, for any sign that Taylor was home, but the apartment wasn’t deceptively quiet. That was why Zac had nearly jumped out of his skin when Taylor’s slim figure emerged from the bathroom, clearly dressed for a night out.
At least he isn’t wearing a dress this time, Zac thought.
Although, he had to admit, what Taylor was wearing really wasn’t much better. He appeared to have poured himself into his jeans, and his shirt, covered in a pale floral pattern, was unbuttoned halfway down his chest to reveal an obscene amount of cleavage. Even from a few feet away, Zac could see that Taylor had applied a relatively light coat of makeup, further heightening the gender-bending effect of his attire. His glossy lips quivered as Zac appraised him.
“I didn’t—god, I didn’t think you would be home before I left,” Taylor breathed out.
Zac was rooted to the spot, vaguely aware that his key was still in the door that he hadn’t even shut behind him. “Are you…. You’re going clubbing?”
“Yeah,” Taylor replied, nodding. “Is that okay? I mean, not that I need your approval. But you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I have,” Zac said plainly.
He wouldn’t have thought to describe it that way, but that was exactly how it felt. Seeing Taylor again had been something of that sort. But seeing Taylor looking a bit more like the androgynous being he’d started to fall for was like being in front of his very first crush all over again. Except now he could see him for who he really was—or could he? He didn’t know which Taylor was the real Taylor and which was just a performance. Maybe they both were. Maybe Zac didn’t really want to know at all.
“Well, my ride is going to be here soon,” Taylor said, his voice turning strangely cold in a way that made him seem even more foreign to Zac.
Without waiting for a response from Zac, he brushed past him and out the still open door. Zac remained rooted to the spot for a moment, not even trusting himself to spin around and watch Taylor leave. He could just barely hear Taylor’s laughing voice, a contrast to how he had sounded just a moment before, followed by the slamming of a car door.
Once Taylor was, presumably, gone, Zac pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text to Melissa to let her know he was coming over. If he stayed in his apartment, he would go crazy waiting for Taylor to come home, and even crazier if he didn’t. He couldn’t even pretend it was anything other than jealousy, and so he decided to just put it out of his mind completely by spending the night with his new best friend.
Even though his text had revealed little about his reason for needing to see her, Melissa met Zac at the door to her apartment with a bottle of beer in each hand. He took one with an appreciative smile and followed her inside.
“So,” she said, once they were settled into the couch, “are you going to tell me why you had a change of heart?”
Zac sighed and stared down into his beer. “We talked about hanging out, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, but I was expecting something a little more cheerful than this. I could feel the waves of depression radiating off your text. So what happened between dinner and… this?”
“Nothing,” Zac replied, then sighed again. “I mean, not nothing. But it’s just… all this stuff with Taylor. And I know I’m not explaining it, but you just have to trust me that I can’t right now. I can’t put it all into words. Not yet. Maybe not at all.”
She nodded, but Zac could see that she didn’t really understand. “Okay. Okay, that’s fine. Whatever it is, does it require more beer or something harder?”
“Something harder,” Zac replied without giving it more than a passing thought.
Melissa instructed Zac to put in a movie while she got their drinks, then walked out of the room. Zac surveyed her movie collection and finally settled on The Princess Bride. A large, orange cat climbed into his lap as the opening credits rolled and he slowly sipped his beer. It wasn’t perfect, but already he felt his mood evening out. He was glad he’d given Melissa a chance; her strange, blunt form of friendship was more of a comfort to him than he could explain to her.
“How’s this?” Melissa asked, holding two shot glasses and a bottle of vodka and offering Zac a smile. “Nothing soothes life’s bullshit away like vodka. At least, that’s what I always say. Well, not really. That’s a horrible catchphrase.”
Zac chuckled. “Vodka’s good. Great, actually.”
She sat down next to him, gave the cat a quick pet on the head, then poured a shot for each of them. They clinked their glasses together before downing the shots; Zac was impressed but not all that surprised that Melissa didn’t even flinch.
“So I see you and Rory have bonded,” Melissa remarked as she refilled their glasses.
“Rory?” Zac asked. “Oh, the cat. Yeah, I guess we have.”
“He’s a big dumb sweetheart,” Melissa replied, handing Zac his shot.
He chuckled softly as he accepted the glass again. “I guess he and I have that in common, then. At least the dumb part.”
Melissa eyed Zac as he sat down his empty glass. “You really aren’t going to tell me what’s going on, are you?”
He shook his head. “It’s one of those things. You know, those things that you can’t really even explain because they’re just so complicated and unbelievable. Even saying that is really too much. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s really not. I know we haven’t been friends for long, but I hope you believe that.”
“I do,” she replied. “I just can’t help feeling that you’re not giving me enough credit. It may be hard to explain, but I promise that if you can figure that out, I’ll figure out how to understand it.”
“Maybe someday,” Zac said, but the words were only meant to appease her; there was little truth in them. “For now, let’s just enjoying the vodka and the movie.”
Melissa smiled and took her second shot. “No complaints here.”
Zac helped himself to another shot as well, then another. He felt a little bad for drinking all of Melissa’s alcohol, but she didn’t say a word. Even if he was being incredibly cryptic about what had him so upset, she was being patient with him and hadn’t forced him to talk. Zac liked that. He wanted to tell her that, but that would mean getting too close to discussing the whole situation again.
Instead, he just settled in next to her to enjoy the movie. That wasn’t difficult, since it was one of his favorite movies, but the alcohol—which he had yet to quit consuming–had brightened up his mood more than he expected. That cat gently purring in his lap and Melissa’s soft, warm body next to him just put a smile on his face. Somewhat in spite of himself, Zac rested his arm on Melissa’s shoulder. He didn’t want to give her the wrong idea, but right then he wasn’t even sure what the right idea was.
“Zac…” Melissa breathed out, and Zac thought there was a warning in her voice, but he chose to ignore it.
“Hmm?” He pulled her closer to his side, giving the cat a gentle nudge until it took the hint and climbed down from his lap.
Melissa eyed Zac, but his vision was just blurry enough for him to easily ignore whatever she was trying to convey. Had he had that much more to drink than her? He didn’t think so. He just felt a little buzzed, really. And lonely. Being with Melissa took the edge off that feeling, but it would take more to alleviate it entirely. To that end, Zac leaned over and pressed his lips against Melissa’s, just barely hard enough to drown out her squeak of surprise.
He could feel her resistance, but it faded quickly as she recovered her senses and took control of the situation. She placed her hands firmly on Zac’s shoulders and nudged him over so that he was laying down on the couch and her body was spread out on top of his. Their limbs tangled together in a way that made Zac tingle all over, and he didn’t even mind letting her take the lead and guide their kiss.
They were crossing a serious line, but Zac didn’t care, and judging by how far down his throat Melissa’s tongue was, she didn’t seem to care, either. Zac grasped the back of her shirt tightly in his fists, not drunk enough to lose all his inhibitions and let his hands wander underneath. He had no clue how far Melissa wanted to let this go, although he was certain that she would tell him when he had gone too far.
Yet she showed no signs of stopping, either, one of her hands creeping down his side so she could hook a finger in his belt loop. Was she going to go further? Would she if he asked? Zac didn’t know, and he didn’t want to tear his lips away from hers long enough to ask. Just as her hand finally did start to creep further south, a strange vibration went through his body… followed by the sound of the Aerosmith song he used as his ringtone.
“Shit,” Zac cursed as Melissa nearly jumped off the couch entirely. He fumbled to pull the phone from his pocket, a task made more difficult than usual thanks to how tight his pants had suddenly become. The name on the screen was the last one he wanted to see.
Taylor.
They had exchanged numbers before Zac left for class a few days prior, even though Zac could see no reason why they would need to call each other. Those were the most words they had spoken to each other in days. Now, as his phone continued to ring, he could do little more than wish to go back in time and not give Taylor his number.
Knowing he didn’t really have another choice, Zac swallowed around the lump in his throat, and answered the call.
“Hello?”