By the time Taylor joined me, I had managed to stop crying and was putting my cell phone back into my purse.
“You live in Crystal Lake, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, but could you please take me to Cary instead? I’m going to stay with my roommate and that’s where she lives.”
“Sure,” he said, putting the car in reverse and heading out of their neighborhood. We sat in silence for a few minutes and I was sure that the only reason the radio wasn’t on was because he was either waiting for me to talk or because he had something that he wanted to say.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I finally admitted, unable to stand the awkward silence any more. I was stuck in a car with a near stranger who just happened to be the blood relative of the one person I didn’t want to think about and I was hating every second of it.
“I know,” he sighed, “But can you just listen to me for a minute?” When I didn’t reply, he took that as a cue to continue. “What Zac did was completely shitty. I don’t know why he didn’t want to tell you about his past, I really don’t. We didn’t know he was hiding things from you until this morning when he told us not to mention any of his past girlfriends or his football career. But what I do know is that the Zac you know is the real Zac. It’s the Zac he was whenever he was at home and with his family. I think that his friends in high school were surface friends who only wanted to hang out with him because he was the star of the football team. He would go out drinking and act like a giant jackass with them, and then he’d come home and be the guy you know, the guy he was being tonight before everything went wrong. I’m not making any assumptions about why he didn’t admit to how he used to be, but I just thought you should know that.”
I just looked at him for a second. “Thanks,” was all I could manage to say. Okay, so maybe Zac just wanted to put all of that behind him and not have to be two people anymore, but did he really think that he would have had to do that with me? I didn’t even know he was a football player. I’d only ever gone to the Homecoming football games at Harper and surely didn’t know the team well enough to know whether or not he was on it.
“And, he’s completely crazy about you, Esme. I mean that. He’s never talked about a girl the way he talks about you,” Taylor said. I swallowed hard and tried not to cry. If he liked me so much, then why had he hidden so much of who he was from me? Why had he flat out lied to my face?
Instead of responding, I just nodded blankly and turned to look out the window. All I wanted was to be at Gwen’s house where I could really cry and talk to someone who would just listen and not try to say things to make me feel better. I understood what Taylor was trying to do, and I knew that he meant well, but when it came right down to it, he was doing it for his brother, not for me.
It took almost an hour to reach Gwen’s house, and by the time I had navigated him through the city to her street, I was so mentally exhausted I could hardly think straight. Once we were pulled into her driveway, he put the car in park and turned slightly to face me.
“Please talk to him. Take your time, but don’t end it like this. You’ll both regret how things went down if you do,” he said sincerely. I put my hand on the handle.
“I think Zac has a lot more things to regret than just how things went down tonight, Taylor. But thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it,” I said before getting out of the car.
“You’re welcome,” he said, but his voice was muffled by the door shutting mid-phrase. Gwen was already at the front door waiting for me. Without a word, she just pulled me into a hug, ignoring Taylor’s hesitation to pull out of the driveway.
“Okay, what do you need? Chocolate? Water? An entire bottle of vodka? What do you need?” she asked as she pulled me sobbing into the house. I laughed lightly despite myself and shook my head.
“Nothing, I just need to talk to you.”
“Well you’re getting water anyway, and some tissues, snotface,” she smiled, trying to lighten my spirits. She didn’t have to try. Just being in her house made me feel better, or at least as better as I could feel.
We got ourselves situated in her room and I changed into some comfier clothes before I launched into the story. By the time I had finished, her eyes were open wide and her jaw had dropped slightly of its own accord.
“That son of a bitch!” she exclaimed, “How could he not tell you about that stuff?”
“I have no idea, and of course, Taylor was trying to smooth it all over in the car. I mean, he’s a nice guy and all, but come on. Um, my boyfriend just got exposed as a big fat liar… did he really think that I’d want to hear any opinions from his brother right after?”
“He probably thought he was doing the right thing,” she offered.
“Oh I know that… it just irritated me a little, that’s all. I just want to be mad at him right now. I can start thinking reasonably in the morning.”
“Be mad all you want. Dad bought a punching bag during his midlife crisis when he thought he was going to become a boxing champ. Wanna tape a picture of Zac’s face on it and give it a swift kick in the groinal area?” she asked.
“No thanks,” I laughed, “I don’t think that’s going to solve my problems right now. Now if you could bring me the real Zac and I could… nah… I still wouldn’t do it.”
“Well yeah. You don’t want him to be injured for that hot makeup sex!” Gwen said. I scoffed and wiped the few stray tears from my cheeks.
“I don’t know, Gwen. It’s going to take a lot to fix this. A lot of talking, and a whole lot of time. I just never thought that he would do something like this.”
“He was just too perfect. He had to mess it up somehow, huh?” she asked, giving my knee a pat, “Now are you sure you don’t want a cocktail? Mom makes a mean Cosmo!”
“You know what? Sure. I’d love one,” I smiled.
Two hours and four Cosmopolitans later, Gwen and I were sprawled out in her bedroom eating cookies and drunkenly talking.
“Dude… I just say screw it. If he lied to you, then he’s a liar… and you don’t want to mess with that!” Gwen managed through a mouthful of Oreos.
“You know, if he didn’t have such a big penis, I might consider that,” I teased. She cracked up and threw a cookie at me, leaving a faint line of black crumbs on my t-shirt.
“I knew it!” she yelled, “God, I can’t believe you just said that, Esme, you slut.” I rolled my eyes and ate the cookie she’d chucked at me.
“Whatever. At least Zac and I kind of try to be quiet when we’re having sex. Could Braeden be any louder if he tried?” I laughed.
“Hey! I can’t help it that I’m good!” she said, pretending to pop her collar and almost pulling it off until she almost fell off the bed.
“Whoa there, turbo,” I grinned, yanking her arm to pull her back upright.
“Well shit. We’re a little drunk, aren’t we?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think we are,” I said, and as soon as the words came out of my mouth, my stomach lurched with too much food and too much vodka, “Oh no.” I barely made it to Gwen’s bathroom before emptying the contents of my stomach into her toilet. Well, there went that wonderful dinner. Taking careful measures to not survey the damage, I simply flushed it away, closed the lid, and let my head rest on the cool white plastic.
“Are you okay?” Gwen asked, handing me my glass of water from earlier. I just looked at her sadly and tried to shake my head against the toilet lid below.
“No, I’m not. What am I doing, Gwen! I shouldn’t be drunk right now!” I cried, burying my face in my arms. She sighed and sat down next to me on the cold tile.
“Esme… please don’t beat yourself up about drinking tonight. It was my idea anyway.”
“I’m just so confused, Gwen. I just don’t know what to do. He told me he wouldn’t hurt me! He told me that! Why would he do this?” I sobbed.
“I have no idea,” she said before attempting to pull me into a standing position, “Now, do you want to sleep in bed with me or go to the guest room?”
“I’ll go to the guest room. I don’t want to keep you up with my crying,” I sniffled.
“Oh Es… you just need to sleep this off and then we can talk some more in the morning if you want to, okay?” I nodded and let her lead me down the hall to their spare bedroom. “Here’s your glass of water. Don’t feel bad if you need to come wake me up for something. I won’t care if you do.”
“Thank you, Gwen. I’m sorry I ruined your Thanksgiving.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. Goodnight,” she said from the doorway before slowly pulling the door shut behind her. I set the glass of water down on the nightstand and pulled back the covers. Sleeping was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to cry or scream or talk the topic into the floor some more. I lay there in bed for what felt like hours thinking about it all and came to one conclusion: I needed to talk to Zac.
The morning came sooner than I would have liked and brought a pounding headache with it, probably both from the alcohol I had consumed and from the crying I had done. Gwen’s mom made us a nice greasy breakfast of bacon and eggs which I devoured hungrily before allowing Gwen to drive me home. My parents would be coming home the next day and we both knew that I needed some time alone to think about what my next move would be.
I took my time unpacking and tossed my dirty clothes into the hamper, knowing that I could probably never wear that adorable pink sweater again. It clearly was not lucky, as Zac had thought it might be.
Determinedly, I sat down at my desk with a pad of paper and wrote down all of the questions I wanted to ask him and all of the things I wanted to say. Just doing that made me feel better and I left the notepad sitting there while I took a shower and tried to wash away all of my nerves and stress. I dressed in my favorite lounge clothes and sat at the head of my bed with my list and my cell phone, staring at it for a good five minutes before finally getting up the guts to call Zac. The conversation we would soon be having was crucial and could determine the future course of our relationship, if it was even to continue being a relationship.
He picked up after three rings and sounded as tired as I knew I must when he answered.
“Esme?” he answered, sounding hopeful through the drowsiness.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“How are you? I mean, are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m just peachy, Zac. Look, can we talk?” I replied, trying not to let myself get too annoyed with him before I heard his side of the story.
“Yeah, we can talk. But can we please do it in person? I’ll come to you.” I sighed and pressed a thumb and index finger into my eyes wearily.
“Fine, but we need to do it today, my parents will be back tomorrow.”
“I’ll leave right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Bye,” I said before hanging up. Now I had to face him in person. Shit.