Everything in Between

Chapter 18

February 2020

I've only seen Zach needy on one occasion, on the morning after his twenty-first birthday, when he was grossly hungover. He got clingy and a little bit too bossy (well, bossy for Zach) by ordering me to make him coffee, bring him Tylenol, and stay with him to watch comedy movies before falling asleep against my shoulder and waking up like nothing ever happened.

Outside of that, he doesn't require constant attention; when he seeks it, he's more stealthy about it. He will casually show up at my apartment unannounced and hang around, even if he knows I'm busy studying. His lack of boundaries becomes apparent as he follows me around my apartment. He will use our sofa like it's his own, eat our snacks like he bought them, and even log into my Netflix account on our television.  

Of course, I love having Zach around, but ever since he and Katrina broke up, his neediness has increased a thousand percent.

He's always at my apartment.

When Bridget walked through the front door this afternoon, I could tell his presence was starting to get on her last nerve. She huffed down the hallway and into her bedroom at the sight of Zach sprawled out on the sofa, feet resting on the coffee table and eating a bowl of popcorn as he watched the latest episode of The 100.

I've been worried about Zach since his breakup, though. He's been sleeping around with anything on campus that has a vagina, and he's been drinking more frequently and relying on me as his primary source of companionship. It's fair to say he's going through a rough patch.

When times have been tough on me, he's always been there; therefore, I am and will always be there for him, even if that means fetching him another beer from the fridge on Valentine's Day before I get ready for my dinner date with Tom.  

He holds his beer, long fingers brushing away the drops of condensation. "What time is your dinner reservation?"

"I think it's six o'clock." I sit down on the sofa beside him. "He's taking me to that new bistro on Tenth Avenue."

"Mm. Isn't it interesting how someone who hated the idea of hockey players so much is suddenly in a relationship with one?" He runs his hand through the front of his hair. "And don't even get me started on how you swore you'd never date anyone in college."

I look over at him. He's so ridiculously smug, and it amazes me that all women don't slap him more often.

"Yes, Zach, Tom was a hockey player. But now he's a professional coach, plays the guitar, owns a condo, and looks like a guy on an Abercrombie ad -"

He shakes his head, "Oh wow."

"- while you play hockey, live with six teammates, have sex with random girls and wear the same clothes you slept in."

He shakes his head and laughs. "Uh, excuse me, I did not sleep in these clothes."

This response is a blatant lie. I was with him last night. He wore that exact outfit: a black t-shirt titled "Calm Your Tits" and dark wash jeans.

"Oh, okay, so putting on the same sleazy shirt from yesterday is a choice; good to know."

He laughs again. "No, it was just all I had."

I take a handful of popcorn from the bowl, and he watches, looking amused and pleased with himself. He's been sleeping with a girl named Casey, who is not enrolled in college and works as a bartender for the campus pub. She has short blonde hair, bright green eyes and the body and brains of a Barbie doll. 

"Oh god," I groan. "Did you get desperate and shack up with Casey last night after you dropped me off? And then you dared to wear those sex-ridden clothes again and sit on my couch?"