Creating Something out of Nothing

My eyes fluttered open at the sunlight shining through Zacky's bedroom window around two o'clock the next afternoon. I was alone in Zacky's bed, but I was okay with that because I figured he'd want to clean up before his parents and brother came home that night. When I strained and focused my ears on sounds, I could hear the vacuum cleaner downstairs roaring with life, confirming my suspicions. I smiled to myself and stretched, regretting that last action as I remembered my and Zacky's events from last night and remembering that I wanted to be sore--and I was. I shrunk back to normal and gathered the cool sheet in my left hand, draping it around my body while I dug through Zacky's drawers to find some shorts and a shirt of his small enough to fit me and some clean underwear he'd washed after I'd left it over before. After I'd grabbed the items I needed, I dragged myself out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door before turning the water to its hottest setting and dropping the sheet.

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When I stepped out of the shower, I felt like I was on top of the fucking world because the hot water had eased some of the soreness away [the rest I would soothe with a bath]. I dried off my body and hair with a towel, slipped my clothes on and brushed my teeth [yeah, I had a toothbrush over there too]. When I felt I was presentable enough, I walked out of the bathroom, grabbed my wallet from Zacky's room, then went downstairs. At the foot of the stairs, I could see Zacky vacuuming. Everyone had gone, the liquor bottles and other messes had been cleaned and cleared away, and the dishwasher was running. He was blasting some Metallica as he pushed and pulled the dirt-sucking machine. I snuck up and kissed the back of his neck, causing him to jump and turn around. His wide eyes returned to their normal size and he grinned when he saw it was me and turned off the vacuum.

"Hey, Sleepyhead," he said to me as a greeting.

"Hey," I replied, stretching up to kiss him on the lips. He puckered his lips, returning the kiss, then pulled away to kiss me on the nose.

"What's up, pussycat?"

"Pussycat?" I asked as I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't ask me, it just came out. Anyways, what's up?"

"Eh, not much. Just hungry. And sore."

He chuckled. "Well, the first I can fix, the second one I caused, I'm sorry."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and he wrapped his around my waist and giggled. "Well, if I remember correctly, which is kinda hard to because of how fucking drunk I was," I paused when he laughed out loud, "I wanted you to fuck me hard. And you just did what I asked."

He gave me a peck on the lips and said, "Well, I'm still sorry that you're sore."

"I know. So about this fixing my hunger thing, what'cha gonna do?"

"I'm gonna make you something."

"Oh no."

"Hey! I can cook some stuff."

"Like what? Cereal? 'Cause that doesn't count as cooking."

He flicked my nose then returned the hand to my waist, guiding me to the kitchen. "Alright, just because I burned the pancakes that one time doesn't mean I can't cook."

"Pshh," I replied skeptically.

He pulled me in front of a stool at the island in the kitchen. "Sit," he commanded.

"If you think acting like a dictator is gonna make me believe you can cook decently, you better think again."

"Anyone can burn pancakes, even you, Miss Perfect. Now sit down, shut up, and prepare to be amazed."

"Yeah right, how much you wanna bet we have to go out to get something?"

He raised his eyebrow. "Is this a challenge?"

"You're damn right this is a challenge. I bet you twenty bucks you can't fucking cook."

"Alright. I bet you twenty bucks and dinner that I can fucking cook," he replied with a smirk.

"Oh yeah? I bet you twenty bucks, dinner, and chores for a week that you can't fucking cook."

"Alright, dammit, you're on. I hope you're prepared to clean Matty's underwear this weekend, 'cause I do laundry every other weekend, and this one's my turn."

"Ew, wait, I take it back."

"Nope, nope, you can't go back on a bet. That's like going back on a triple dog dare."

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" I exclaimed, laughing. He started laughing with me.

"Alright, now what do you want? And don't give me something like lasagna or something that I can't cook now. Give me like... eggs or something."

"Alright. And you know I fucking hate eggs, so... waffles. And hash browns."

"That it?"

"Yeah, that's what I want."

"Alright, prepare to be licking your plate, 'cause when I'm done, you're gonna want more."

"Psh," I said, rolling my eyes, "you wish."

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So I owed Zacky twenty bucks, dinner, and chores for a week. Big deal. There's plenty of bets he's lost, it was just my turn.

"I told you I could cook," he said after he'd swallowed his last bite of waffle.

"Yeah yeah, shut up."

"Alright," he said, starting to clear our dishes, "what's up for you today?"

"Well, I figured we'd do something," I said, hoping that he would say yes.

"Okay, what you wanna do?"

"I dunno, let's go out to dinner or something."

Silence.

"Zacky?"

"Like what kinda dinner?" Uh oh, I know that tone. Something's up.

"Something wrong, Zacky?"

"I dunno, Tams, you tell me," he said, turning around to face me and lean against the sink.

"You're acting like you don't wanna go to dinner with me."

"It's not that I don't wanna go to dinner with you. But... you're acting strange right now," he replied, squinting his eyes slightly.

"Strange how, Zacky? I mean, you told me you loved me and I told you the same, so I figured we'd like... start being together or something."

He just stared at me, mouth opened slightly, I think he was shocked. And seeing that look on his face made my heart fucking drop to the ground, plunge through the cement under the floor of the house, and shoot down through about sixty feet of dirt.

"I told you I loved you?"

"Yes, in fact, you said, and I quote, 'I love you, Tammy. I love you so much.' Then when I said it back, you asked me if I meant it. Like you were scared that I didn't."

At that statement, Zacky looked down at the ground. His knuckles were turning white with his grip on the counter. Then he began furiously shaking his head. "How could you believe something I said last night? Not only was I drunk, we'd just got done fucking. I would've asked you to marry me if I'd stayed awake longer."

"So you didn't mean it when you told me you loved me."

"Tammy, you know I love you. But not the way you're saying I sounded. I'm not in love with you. I thought you knew that. I thought you knew that our arrangement was purely lust and trusting each other as friends."

I felt my throat close up and my cheeks get hot and the tears surfaced to my eyes. I tried to blink them back, but when I shook my head, the tears slipped out of my eyes and down my cheeks.

"Tammy--"

"No, Zachary. Don't say anything. I'm just... delusional, I guess. I mean, how could you love me? I'm not special."

"Tammy--"

"Don't say anything, Zack! I can't believe you'd fucking say that shit to me and act like this. I looked in your eyes when you said that shit to me last night, I know you meant it. I could feel that you meant it, Zacky."

"But I didn't, Tams. I love you, but not that way."

I stepped closer to him. "Of course you do. Just like you know I love you. Just like you know your dad loves your mom. It's the same, it's the fucking same!"

"No, Tammy, " he said, shaking his head. When I looked in his eyes this time, I didn't see any love, not the love from last night. I saw sorrow and pity.

"Fuck you, Zacky, I know what I heard and I know what I saw and I know what I felt. I felt that you loved me dammit!" I was starting to lose my cool, tears were falling like a waterfall now. My hands shook as I raised them to wipe away the droplets. Zacky stepped up to do the same, but I pushed him away. "Don't touch me, Zack. You're a fucking liar."

And just as quick as I'd gotten angry with him, he was getting angry with me.

"Fuck you, Tammy! This is bullshit! I thought that our arrangement would be smooth and easy, I thought you understood what would come out of this. Just sex! But no, you had to be a fucking emotional wreck and start thinking I felt something for you. News flash, darlin', I don't feel a thing for you."

Those green eyes were the coldest I'd ever seen, it ignited my anger even more. I pushed him backwards, hard like a shove.

"You fucking asshole! You're nothing but a womanizing, dickless douche! Who's incapable of feeling anything other than wanting to bury himself into some whore!"

"I don't know who the fuck you're calling dickless. You weren't sounding like that last night, you were fucking begging me for it. And I don't know why you're trying to sound all high and mighty, you're one of those fucking whores!"

That was it. I fucking pulled my fist back and punched Zacky in the eye. He yelped with pain and covered his eye with his hand. When I looked back up at him, he was pissed. Then he did something I could have never imagined him doing. He pushed me, pushed me so hard that I fell and hit my head on the corner of the counter, splitting it open in the back. I blacked out.

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When I woke up, I was cradled in someone's arms and heard yelling in the background. The arms around me were male, and when I looked up, I saw that they belonged to Brian, which surprised me. The person that usually holds me like this is Matt. But after listening for a few more seconds, I realized that the voices I heard were Matt's and Zacky's. Matt was getting onto Zacky about what happened, obviously, and he wasn't happy about what had happened or the result.

"I don't fucking care what she said! You know that you don't lay a hand on a girl. And especially not Tammy!"

"I fucking know that, Matt! I was pissed, I wasn't thinking!" He sounded like he was sorry, but he was getting frustrated. If Matt kept going, Zacky'd shut down and get stubborn.

"Well, from now on, think!" And with that, Matt walked out of that room he'd been in with Zacky and into the living room where Brian was holding me on the couch. He stooped down to me, the anger leaving his face but not his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice croaking. "I'm okay, Matt."

"That motherfucker, I should kill him."

"Leave him alone, Matt. I'm gonna talk to him." I started to get up, but Brian's arms held me and Matt shook his head 'no.'

"Zacky," he shouted, "get in here."

Zacky came in the room. I knew that he'd been sorry, but now that Matt had been on his ass, he was turning into stubborn Zacky. "What, Matthew?"

"Tammy wants to say something to you."

Zacky looked straight at me and said, "I have nothing to say to you, Tammy. I don't wanna hear what you have to say and I don't wanna see your face."

"We can't even talk about it and work shit out?"

"No, I have nothing to talk about," he said, his voice nonchalant and monotonous. "Actually, I think you all should leave. Now."