A week has passed since my parents dropped me from the family. I haven't actually tried to go back yet, so if they weren't serious, I have yet to be aware. Zack brought me a bunch of clothes at K-Mart; and I started feeling uncomfortable about him buying so much shit for me, so I took up half of his customers. I only get the ones he's already introduced me to, because the paranoid ones would flip their paranoid little shits.
It's not much of a hassle, just a lot of people texting me and a lot of walking around. My life is very secret, considering I spend most of it in Zack's room when I'm not at school or on runs. I guess it's an odd living situation, but it's nice to have a sleepover with your best friend every night, with semi-free meals and homework assistance from a family of geniuses.
Zack's dad is out on his third date this week, so Zack and I are making sammiches for dinner. Ham sammiches. Zack is bent over the counter, cutting up ham and humming along to a Mighty Mighty Bosstones CD he put in. The entire scene is like a fucking dream, so instead of actually working on my sammich; I just stood there, grinning like an idiot while Zack's hair flies up and down as he nods to the beat of the ska.
"Hey Darcy, can you pass the cheese?" He turned toward me, therefore bearing witness to my idiotic grin, which he reciprocated. After a few moments if grinning I took the cheese out of the package and gave it to Zack.
"Not to be a bother, but I've lived in your room for 8 days and your dad still has no idea..."
"Yeah, isn't it awesome?"
"Well...Of course, but if your dad didn't go out so often, I'd have to spend all of my time in your room."
"He's been out almost every night since he quit drinking, I doubt he'd just stop going out."
"Oh... How do you know he's not at it again?"
"He doesn't get hung over anymore, so he must be fuckin'." He said matter-of-factly. I find this to be a logical assumption, so we take our sammiches up to the attic. When we eat, Zack looks at me and, through a mouthful of sammich, says this:
"I'm sorry about not telling him, Darcy; it's just... He's probably going to be all weird about it. i don't want you being stuck with no place to go." I nod at this answer knowingly and put in Zack's DVD of Cow & Chicken. He finishes his dinner and sits down on the floor next to me.
The theme blares from the outdated speakers.
Mama had a chicken, Mama had a cow. Dad was proud he didn't care how.
Zack grinned a nostalgia-filled grin, just as he'd done every other time we've watched the show. I sidled up next to him and bathed in the wave of nostalgia he never stops swimming through. Then an idea pops into my head. A good idea. An unpredictable idea. An idea that would exact revenge I suddenly required. This plan must go into acting immediately.
"Hey, Zack."
"What?" BAM! A kiss. Not for any particular reason, except to say "take that you cheeky bastard, I can do it too." He seemed to get the idea, and didn't pull away as he had done before. I guess now was time to go in for the kill. He did the whole wrapping-the-hands-around-the-waist thing and smiled into the kiss like he was so fucking proud he had gotten me to kiss him. The smug bastard.
This entire kiss/battle ordeal was so consuming that we didn't notice the door slam downstairs as someone entered the house. As a matter of fact, we were enjoying the previously mentioned battle so much we didn't notice the door to Zack's room creak open, giving that someone full view of our adolescent antics.
"Zack... What are you doing?" Came the voice of Mr. Livingston.
"Shitmonkeys." I muttered.
"Darcy?" He said with disbelief. I tucked my hair behind my ear then waved 'hello'. "Darcy's here?"
"Yeah... I wanted to tell you... She's been here here for a while..."
"You've been making out with Darcy in the attic for how long?" Assuming he wasn't asking for the exact amount of time Zack and I were engaged in epic battle, Zack said this:
"Uh... A week."
"You've been hiding a girl in your bedroom for a week?" Zack nodded in response.
"Her parents kick-"
"I don't really care what reason you had for this, Zack. I just know that I'm not supposed to let my son keep girls in his room. Take her home."
"But Dad-"
"Just take your friend home, Zack. We'll talk about this later." Zack looks at me apologetically. I know that his hands are tied, and if I leave, I probably won't see him again. I'll also have the joyous task of begging my parents to take me back. I look at Zack, just to see if he has anything to say that could save me. But he doesn't. He just looks at me with sorry eyes and grabs his keys off the dresser.
"Let's go, Darcy."
~
Tomorrow Has to Wait-Peter Bjorn and John
