Zipped

2

Zip and I finally saw each other again after like seven years. It was the first homecoming I was ever attending. The first time I'd be coming back to Ketchum after my dad's sudden death on my very first year in New York City. My stepmom had since sold the house I'd grown up in. I knew I had no more house to come home to on Thistle Lane so I'd booked myself at the Sun Valley Resort.

My heart fluttered a little -- OK, it fluttered a big lot -- when I saw Zip looking so damned gorgeous in a casual shirt the color of his eyes. He was clad in jeans and loafers. The good old Zip. His dark hair had grown longer, far from the cropped top I remembered.

I was stunned for a bit. Yes, I would confess to stalking him online every now and then. He did post a picture or two once, maybe twice, a year so I knew how he looked like now that we were adults. I didn't understand how I could still get so damned stunned. He looked so much hotter in person. Those pictures I'd seen online didn't do him justice.

He was taller, darker and even more handsome in a rugged way. He still oozed with sex appeal. He was the stuff my romantic heroes were made of, the man I made wild love to in my nightly fantasies, when I touched to pleasure myself because there was no one to do it. Good thing he didn't know it. He would fricking gloat.

I scolded myself. I needed reminding that he was Zip, my high school best friend. We didn't do the fuck-buddy thing so I shouldn't be having lewd thoughts about him.

With a heavy sigh, I waved to catch Zip's attention. He didn't seem to recognize me at first, thanks to my aversion to Internet posting of personal affairs that included photos of myself. We'd only seen each other once after high school graduation and that was at my dad's funeral. After that, we'd only casually talked on social networking sites -- Christmas, Thanksgiving and birthday greetings generally.

I knew I looked better than I used to, plus the fact that I'd exerted more effort looking my best on my first meeting with Zip after seven years. I'd been on the chubby side back in high school. The struggle to shed all those fats in college had been real. I couldn't really blame Zip if he didn't recognize me at once. That was exactly my intention. My frequent lolling at the gym, spa and salon had paid off. And perhaps the cringe-worthy splurges on ridiculously priced designer makeup, clothes, leather and other stuff, too.

I knew I was beautiful, but Zip's expression said I was way more than just beautiful. The look on his face made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman in the world right now.

But it was just my fantasy. It couldn't be real.

“Hey.”

“Is it really you, Clark?”

I jabbed his ribs. “Who else would I be, Emma Stone?”

"No, but with that red hair of yours? Close." He gave me a bear hug for a couple of seconds, then held me close and stared at my face before giving me a once-over. All I could think about  was how good he smelled and how green his eyes were, like round emeralds boring into my soul. "Gee, you've..."

I smiled and tried to ignore the knot of nerves pooling in the pit of my stomach. "Improved?"

"Changed. You're as beautiful as always, Clarky, but somehow you're... different. I missed you." He gave me another hug before finally letting me go. "Come on, Ketchum's waiting."

"Are you sure you're driving another, what, four hours?"

"Two. Watch me."

I shook my head, clucking my tongue. He had always been a daredevil, it was a wonder how he could get so geeky with computers and stuff. "I want to live another fifty years in one piece, Mikey." He hated that nickname.

"Fifty years. That's a long time."

"I've got long-term plans."

"Really? Name one."

"Marrying a billionaire?" I grinned, thinking of my own heroines all dreaming about billionaire husbands.

"Well..." He flashed me that lopsided smile of his. So full of meaning, but I could not let my thoughts wander further than what was healthy.

"You're not a billionaire. Drop it."

"I may as well be." He was grinning deviously now, the manwhore Zip emerging full-on. "When I get my first billion, will you marry me?"

My face flushed redder than my hair as my thoughts went awry. I had to inwardly recite the 'formula' I had created and reminded myself a million times in high school: MwBFF + SFs = MD.

Manwhore Best Friend Forever plus Stupid Feelings equals Major Disaster.

Whatever.

Feeling scalded, I moved away from Zip, reminding myself he was off-limits.

He smiled tentatively, his eyes going a little out of focus as his stare followed me, as if confused. And finally realizing what just occured, he burst out laughing, "Come on, Jess! I was just teasing."

“It's not funny,” I said, rolling my eyes. “We have never flirted before, don't start now. If you're forgetting, let me remind you. It's me, Jess.”

He chuckled and rubbed his nape. “Sorry not sorry, Jess. I mean, it's just fucking unbelievable how different you've turned out. You never post your pictures online. No one has. Don't you ever meet up with your fans? Don't they ever get to take your photos?"

"What the hell, Zip? You fuckin' stalk me?" As I did him, but he needed not know that.

He grinned sheepishly. "Once in a while. Your social media profiles are boring, there's not much to see except book covers, excerpts and teasers. And yeah, surveys."

I shook my head, fighting a silly smile. “You could have video called to see me. Anyway, shall we go?”

He guided me to the parking lot, where his yellow Corvette was waiting. He guided me to the passenger seat before depositing himself in front of the stirring wheel. Then he turned to me and stared, a small smile playing on his lips until it started to make me self-conscious.

There was something about Zip right now and it was really wreaking havoc to my insides. She reprimanded him. “What the hell, Zipressenbaum? You look like you want to devour me.”

He chuckled. “Can't blame me, Clark. I wasn't prepared for this meeting. You're fucking hot.”

“Fuck off,” I said, rolling my eyes, remembering that this was the fuckboy who had victimized more than half of the girls' population back in high school. She hadn't been immune to his charm, but he had never known that and she was not about to let him now. “This is Jess, Zip. You don't do Jess,” I reminded him. How many times had I heard him tell his friends the not-doing-Jess thing?

He laughed out loud. “Well, that was before. Not-doing-Jess thing is a thing of the past. We haven't really been friends in the real sense of the word for, what, seven years? Yeah, since you left for New York.”

“Asshole. This is still me.”

“And this is still me… Zip version 2.0,” he said, grinning. “More muscles and ten times hotter...” The dingbat even flexed his muscles, then winked at me before focusing back on the road. “You're not involved with anyone right now, righr?” He seemed so sure with his statement.

“With a few,” I teased.

“Few what, those superheroes and zombies you keep posting on Facebook and Instagram?”

I shook my head while making a tchk! sound. "Creep."

“You look hot on the outside, but inside you're still the same old geeky Jessica Clark of Ernest Hemingway High.”

“And you are still the biggest dork in the whole of Idaho. I wonder if you're just as dorky as a boss in your plush Silicon Valley company.”

He replied with a chuckle. The look on his face said he was up to no good, just like the old times. He was the same old Zip.

It was really good to see him again.