Melly
Zac woke in the morning feeling comfortably warm and cozy. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he ought to have at least a tiny hangover, because he definitely remembered consuming quite a bit of alcohol with Melissa. He also remembered kissing her, and that it felt kind of nice, even if it shouldn’t have. He wasn’t attracted to her like that; it should have been like kissing his brother or something.
No. That was a bad thought. Kissing his brother was, unfortunately, nothing like kissing Melissa. It was, Zac was ashamed to admit even to himself, so much better.
He suddenly realized he wasn’t alone in bed, but he didn’t remember staying at Melissa’s. Nor did he remember bringing her home with him—at least, he didn’t remember her coming inside the apartment. Besides, he highly doubted Melly—because he did remember nicknaming her that—would be the big spoon.
That could only mean one thing.
Zac slowly opened his eyes and looked down at the arms wrapped around him. There were thin, but definitely masculine, as were the large hands attached to them that were gripping Zac’s shirt like it was an anchor. The rescue mission he and Melissa had made suddenly came back to him, along with memories of tears glistening on Taylor’s cheeks and Taylor’s insistence that they sleep together, as though that might somehow fix whatever was wrong.
Zac was fairly certain it had only created more problems.
He pried himself out of Taylor’s grip as carefully as possible, silently praying that he wouldn’t wake his brother. Taylor heaved a loud sigh as Zac placed his arms onto the mattress, and Zac froze on the spot, his heart thumping. After a few seconds, when Taylor hadn’t spoken, Zac decided he was safe. He didn’t dare look back at his brother to be certain, fearing that as soon as his eyes fell on him, Taylor would wake.
Finally, after what felt like hours of carefully prying himself loose and wiggling out of the bed, Zac was free.
The second that his feet hit the floor, Taylor sighed again. “Zac? Where are you going?”
Zac should have known it was too good to be true. Of course he couldn’t get away so easily.
“Just to the bathroom,” he replied. “I need to take a shower.”
If he could have scrubbed Taylor off his body completely, he would have. But a scalding hot shower would have to do, Zac decided. He scurried out of the room before Taylor could say anything else to delay him or convince him to stay.
Zac took his time in the shower, the water turned up as hot as he could stand, as though he really could scald himself clean, scour off a layer of skin and with it the memory of how it felt to kiss and touch his brother. They were memories he knew he shouldn’t want, yet after so many years of nothing at all, he found that he wanted it all. He wanted to know his brother inside and out. He wanted to make up for those missing years that he somehow felt responsible for. He wanted to show Taylor that he loved him and supported him and always had, even when he had been too scared to admit it for fear of what their parents would do.
He wanted so many things that he shouldn’t want that even the things that should have been normal were twisted into something wrong and perverted.
The water was only lukewarm when Zac finally turned it off and stepped out in the steamy bathroom. He took his time drying off and dressing, not sure what he would find in the apartment when he emerged. Taylor wouldn’t be happy with him; of that he wasn’t fairly certain. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure how drunk Taylor had been. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember. That was too good of an outcome to really hope for, Zac decided.
A pair of jeans and a t-shirt that didn’t smell too bad lay abandoned on the floor; Zac slid into them along with the clean boxers he’d at least had the foresight to bring into the bathroom with him. Running a hand through his still damp hair, which was just long enough for a ponytail now after cutting it to please Carly during their first year together, he stepped out into the apartment and braced himself.
The smell of bacon frying—when had he bought bacon?—assaulted his senses and made his stomach turn. He was hungry, since he hadn’t eaten dinner the night before, but the alcohol he had substituted for dinner made it difficult for him to consider actually eating anything to sate that hunger. Something as greasy as bacon definitely didn’t sound like a good idea, and it didn’t help that he knew the chef was none other than Taylor.
Sure enough, he found Taylor standing in the kitchen, a plate heaped with bacon on the counter next to him, and a spatula in hand, scrambling eggs with cheese just the way Zac liked. He hated that he knew nothing about Taylor now, and yet Taylor seemed to remember everything about him. Zac supposed he hadn’t changed at all, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that, when Taylor seemed like such a stranger to him.
“There’s coffee and toast, too,” Taylor said simply, as though the two of them sharing breakfast was a normal, everyday occurrence.
It wasn’t, though not for lack of trying on Taylor’s part; Zac made a point of staying in bed so late that he usually had nothing more than cold leftovers to eat alone. Anything to avoid being so dangerously close to Taylor.
“Thanks,” Zac choked out, the word feeling like a stone in the back of his throat. He grabbed a piece of toast from where it still rested in the toaster and crammed half of it in his mouth all at once. It nearly gagged him, but at least it prevented him from speaking.
Taylor finished the eggs and scraped them out onto a plate before turning to face Zac. “I’m sorry about last night. I really don’t make a habit out of getting so drunk I can’t find my own way home, I swear.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Zac mumbled around his toast. “I just… I don’t wanna talk about it. I need to go get my car back from Melissa’s place.”
The latter was tacked on just as an excuse to get away before Taylor could wear him down and get him to talk. Obviously Taylor did remember something about the night before, although Zac still wasn’t sure how much. How much did Taylor realize that he had to apologize for? Zac didn’t dare even ask. He was perfectly content just to take the apology and run before Taylor could say any more about what they had done.
The apartment felt suffocating as he rushed around in search of his wallet, cell phone and keys. Melissa’s apartment was a little bit farther away than he really wanted to walk, but the other option was to ask Taylor to drive him there. At the moment, that wasn’t even a possibility in Zac’s mind. A nice long walk would do him good. Or just give him so much time to think that he would end up walking out into traffic just to end it all.
Of course, he didn’t actually do that. The random suicidal thoughts weren’t anything he took seriously, although they were increasing in frequency. Zac reasoned that he was just joking with himself when he made these little comments to himself; if he really wanted to do it, he would just do it without talking melodramatically about it first.
Either way, he made it to Melissa’s apartment in one piece and knocked on her door. As he did, it occurred to him that he probably should have called or texted first to be sure that she was actually at home. He didn’t think she usually worked so early, but it would be just his luck that she wasn’t there at all. He could have just gotten in his car and left, but he knew he owed her an apology just as much, if not more, than Taylor had owed him one for the night before.
Just as he raised his hand to knock on the door for a second time, it swung open and revealed Melissa standing before him. Her hair was a little messy and she was still in an old t-shirt and pajama pants, but she looked far more refreshed and awake than Zac thought anyone had a right to look after a night of drinking. Then again, she had been totally sober compared to him.
“Hey,” he managed to squeak out. “Umm, just came back to get my car.”
Melissa put her hand on her hip. “Is that all?”
“Yeah,” Zac replied. “Well, no. I, umm, you know. I guess I wanted to apologize for last night. You having to go pick up Taylor because I got drunk, and the whole getting drunk thing. And… well.”
“It’s no big deal,” Melissa said, but her smile didn’t reach all the way to her eyes. “Anyway, just don’t make a habit of it. You brother, though. Does he work at the Sephora at Barton Square?”
Zac blinked. “Oh. Umm. Yeah, I think so.”
“I thought he looked familiar. He’s cute. Too bad he swings the other way, huh?” Melissa’s smile grew just a tiny bit.
“Yeah,” Zac choked out, managing the tiniest of laughs. “Look, are we… are we okay? You and me.”
Melissa stepped back into her apartment and motioned for Zac to follow her. He stepped in and let the door shut behind him. Part of him knew Melissa was just trying to avoid having a private conversation in public, but the other part of him was screaming that she just didn’t want any witnesses when she murdered him.
“Well?” He asked, hoping just to get it over with as soon as possible.
“Look, I don’t know what you were thinking,” Melissa began. “I mean, you were drunk. I get that. Probably even more drunk than I even realized, and I’m sorry that I didn’t stop things sooner.”
Zac shook his head. “No, I—I shouldn’t have even started things. It was a long night and I was drunk but honestly there are no excuses for it. You know it’s not… it’s just not like that. And I just complicated things by making it like that.”
“You didn’t complicate things,” Melissa replied, but her smile had fallen again. “If either of us did, I did. I’m the one who wanted to be friends when I realized it wasn’t going to work out otherwise. And maybe that was a mistake. But for better or worse, I made that decision and I don’t want to back away from it, not when it seems like you really need a friend. Even if you don’t want to tell me why.”
“Maybe someday I’ll explain,” Zac said, and he almost sounded like he meant it. He was proud of himself for being convincing for once in his life—nevermind the fact that he knew it was a lie.
“Someday,” Melissa echoed. “Now go on, get your car, and go take care of your brother. I’m sure he has a hell of a hangover.”
“I think mine is worse,” Zac replied, cracking his first smile of the morning.
Melissa pulled him in for a hug. “You’re gonna be alright, Zac. With the hangover and whatever else is going on, I mean. And we’re alright, too. But if you do something like that again and we get interrupted by your phone, I may have to smash it. And kill your brother.”
Zac laughed in spite of himself. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“It’ll all be fine,” Melissa said, then finally released Zac from her hug.
After making plans to have lunch with her before class on Tuesday, Zac finally trudged off to locate his car. He had no desire to go straight back to his apartment and risk running into Taylor again, but he had nowhere else to go. He ended up driving around aimlessly with the radio turned up loud enough to drown out his thoughts.
He was a pessimist at heart, and though he wanted to believe Melissa that everything was going to be okay, he just couldn’t. Now that he was realizing just how deep and fucked up his feelings for Taylor were, Zac was beginning to think that nothing would ever be right again.