Zack's apartment was surprisingly clean. I was expecting to walk into a frat mess, not clean floors and table tops.
"So what am I making you?" I asked with no interest.
"Whatever you find in the fridge." He told me, leading me to the kitchen. He better have some leftovers.
His kitchen was fairly new, unlike mine. He had white counter tops, a spacious sink, and silver appliances.
I opened his fridge and surveyed what was available. Contrary to the rest of the kitchen, his fridge was practically empty besides half a court of milk, a case of coke, butter, a carton of eggs, and a jar of dill pickles.
"How am I supposed to make something out of this?" I questioned. I'm not Chef Gordon, I can't make a meal out of anything.
"Look in some of the cabinets. There's food in there too." He said, walking out if the kitchen.
"Where are you going?" I asked as he retreated into the living room, which was also nicer than mine.
"You don't need me to cook. I'll be in here when you're finished." He called from his leather couch.
After a sigh of frustration, I began rummaging through some cabinets. It was almost one in the morning. I should be in bed, not making dinner for a jerk.
There was no organization to his cabinets. I found pots all over the kitchen, fruits and vegetables in multiple random cabinets, and the bread was in a lower cabinet next to the fridge.
I turned on one of the stove's eyes and placed a pan on it. I got the tub of butter out and let a chunk of it melt. Once melted, I threw two pieces of bread on the pan and they began to toast.
I sliced up a tomato and set it aside for when the bread was done. I went back to the kitchen and pulled out the carton of eggs.
Once the bread was done, I placed them on a plate and put the sliced tomato on top. With the pan still hot, I cracked two eggs to fry.
Within a few minutes, they were ready. I threw on some salt and pepper and lifted the fried eggs off the hot pan. I built Zack's sandwich and got a can of coke out of the fridge. I even put a few dill pickles on his plate. Of course, I treated myself to a few as well.
With Zack's dinner in my hands, I walked into the living room. The annoyance himself was laying on his couch watching some murder show.
"Here," I said, sitting the plate on his coffee table. "Can I go now?"
"What's the matter, Hot Stuff? Don't wanna spend time with me?" Zack joked as he picked up his sandwich.
"Nope," I answered. I began to walk to his door so I could leave but he stopped me.
"Hold on, you have to wait and see if I like it," Zack called, making me stop.
"Well then hurry up and eat the damn thing," I complained. I was tired. I wanted to go home.
"You can't rush eating," Zack informed me as he opened his drink.
"Sure you can. I do it all the time." I reassured him.
"Come sit with me." He invited after he took a sip.
"I'd rather not."
"You'll be fine. Come watch NCIS. You'll like it." He said, turning up the volume on the TV.
Going against my better judgment, I sat down next to Zack on his comfy couch.
I used to watch NCIS, but once college started and I had Sophia there just wasn't enough time in the day to watch TV. The episode playing was obviously a newer one. I didn't have a clue who the blonde girl was.
Breaking the silence, Zack asked, "You like NCIS?"
"I used to watch it." I shrugged.
"Why'd you stop?" He asked in return.
"Got too busy." I dully explained.
"I'm pretty sure you aren't that busy," Zack said, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"College, a job, and a kid are pretty time-consuming. But I wouldn't expect you to know that." I elaborated.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Zack questioned with offense.
"You don't take care of any kid but yourself. You don't know what it's like being a parent." I told him.
"Like hell, I don't!" Zack snapped, throwing his sandwich back on its plate.
I faced him and asked, "What's your problem?"
"You don't know what the hell my past was. You don't get to tell me what I do and don't know how to do!" Zack's face was turning red, clearly pissed.
"Um... I'm sorry?" I apologized, still confused as ever. "Actually, no. I'm not." I decided.
"Excuse me?" He asked. Now it's his turn to be confused.
"I just made you dinner after I stood up for my best friend. I'm not apologizing for what I said." I defended.
"You know, you're really judgmental." He declared.
"And how did you come up with that?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"You assume that, just because your past is rocky, everyone else has had it easy. No one else can match up to what you went through. Well, guess what. You're wrong." Zack said. There was a look in his green eyes, I couldn't place the emotion though. It was like a mixture of hate, pain, and experience.
"You don't know about my past." I reminded him. "You can't make declarations like that without knowing the truth." I reminded.
"Trying taking your own damn advice." He said with his red face going away.
"Oh, please elaborate on how my past compares nothing to yours," I asked sarcastically.
Zack looked away from me. He decided the floor was more appealing. The TV was still playing in the background.
"You think I'm some immature asshole that doesn't give a shit about anyone." He stated. I couldn't tell if he was mad or just simply stating a fact.
"You nailed that one," I said bitterly. I will admit, I was slightly eager to see where this conversation was going.
"Something you are wrong about though, I do have experience raising a kid." He admitted.
"You have a kid?" I asked, my jaw hitting the floor. He really doesn't have the right to judge me now.
"What? No! I wasn't an immature little teenager like you. I'm talking about my sister, Carly." He clarified for me. Damn, I was hoping he did. That would've given me much more leverage.
"So you looked after your sister? That's not exactly the same thing." I informed him.
"Let me finish." He said, irritated again. He obviously didn't tell this story a lot. "My dad was a drunk and my mom was a druggie. The two of them clashed a lot. They were too busy fulfilling their desires and fighting so that left me to earn money to feed Carly."
After a moment of silence, I spoke up. "That- That does suck." I stuttered the first part. What was I supposed to say to that?
"One night, my dad came home drunk, like always, and I told Carly to go to her room and lock the door. That was when he started hitting us, well me. I never let him near Carly." This was getting deep. Did he really want to tell me this? Me? Of all people...
"You don't have to tell me your life story. I think I got the gist of it." I told him. I knew retelling a bad memory wasn't fun. As curious as I was, he didn't need to relive his life through words.
"No, you don't. There's more." He said with a sickly smile. It was one of those smiles that weren't meant to be happy. "He hit me all the time, it lasted for years. I eventually learned how to fight back. One night, while Mother Dearest was in the bathroom shooting heroine," he started again sarcastically. "-Dad came home, drunker than ever. Carly went to her room as always. I waited for him to attack me. When he did, I fought him back. Needless to say, he didn't like that."
"Zack, you don't have to tell me this." I tried to stop him. I could tell he was beginning to choke up.
"Apparently I do so you can understand other people have hard times too." He almost yelled.
Honestly, I didn't want to know any more about his past. I wanted him to stay the jackass that lived across from me.
"I wasn't strong enough and I only enraged him more." Zack continued. "He hit me so much I eventually passed out. When I woke up-" His voiced cracked. Tears started forming in his eyes. He was trying so hard to hold back he was shaking. "I woke up and my dad was gone. My mom was passed out in the bathroom. I went to check on Carly, but I found her on the stairs." A tear fell down Zack's cheek.
"Zack-" I tried to intervene but he cut me off.
"She was gone. She was covered in bruises and blood." More tears started falling. "The Son of a Bitch beat my little sister to death." His tears were falling freely now as if they have been waiting to escape for such a long time.
Without any words, I pulled Zack into a hug. Surprisingly, he didn't reject it. He wasn't trying to prove me wrong. He needed someone to vent to. No one probably knew what he had gone through. He's been carrying around this burden on his back for years. I always had Sky to go to in my dark times. That I know of, he had no one.
"I was fucking sixteen." He mumbled into my shoulder. I tightened my grip on him. I couldn't let him feel helpless or abandoned, even if he was annoying most of the time.
He tightened his arms around my back, keeping me impossibly close. But I didn't mind. He wasn't a jerk at the moment. He was that sixteen-year-old boy who needed comfort years ago.
He eventually stopped crying and released me from his tight grip. His eyes were red and puffy. "Sorry." He apologized.
"No," I told him. He gave and a confused look so I explained. "Don't ever apologize for opening up. You can't walk around with bad memories on your mind like that. Everyone has to get something off their chest every once in a while."
"Well, thank you. I've never said it out loud before." He said heavily. A few moments passed before he spoke up again. He gave me a slight smile, a normal one for once. "And yes, I forgive you."
I rolled my eyes but smiled. "Does this mean I can go home now?" I joked, not sure if I should actually leave right after he opened up to me like that.
He nodded his head and stood up. "Thanks for the sandwich, it wasn't too bad." He shrugged. I was glad to see him in better spirits.
I stood up and walked to the door. On my way, I passed the kitchen and looked at the clock. It was almost two in the morning.
I stepped into the hallway but Zack grabbed my hand before I could reach my door. He pulled me towards him and kissed my cheek. "Thank you." He whispered. When he pulled away, he was staring deeply into my blue eyes.
Despite our past and probably future squabbles, we were connected now. He will always know he'll have security in me.
He broke our contact and retreated back into his apartment, leaving me to knock on mine.
"C'mon Sky, open up!" I almost yelled. I didn't want to wake up the whole floor.
After knocking for five minutes, I came to the conclusion that Sky had fallen asleep. Which meant I was locked out of my apartment for the night. Isn't that just dandy.
"Having trouble?" Zack snickered from his door. He was back to leaning against the frame with a cocky smirk on his face. His puffy eyes were gone.
"Maybe a little," I confessed. There was no point in denying it. Sky was a deep sleeper.
"Come back in. You can crash on my couch." Zack offered.
I sighed and accepted. It beat sleeping on the cold hallway floor.
I made my way back to the leather couch while Zack grabbed a pillow and blanket for me.
"I brought you a sweatshirt too. I like it cold." He shrugged. He threw the grey and black Adidas hoodie at me along with the pillow and blanket.
He laughed when the pillow hit me in the face. Such a gentleman.
"I'll be down the hall if you get scared and feel the need to join me." He said with a wink.
"In your dreams, Evans," I replied back, using his last name.
He laughed and said "Goodnight, Hot Stuff."
"Goodnight, Sweet Cheeks." I joked back.
Zack went to his room as I buried myself into the couch. He was right; it was very cold compared to my apartment. I ended up using his sweatshirt.