"Oh man, my head is just killin' me."
Taylor rolled over onto his back. The sun coming from that one little window now seemed incredibly bright.
Covering his eyes with his hand he sighed. He knew he'd had a few too many drinks last night, and he hadn't been SO drunk as to forget all he'd done, as far as the evening's activities went, but some spots were definitely foggy. Not only that, but now he felt so dirty and tired. Kind of like all the beer was just oozing out of his pores, if that was even remotely possible.
Reaching up with his other hand to scratch his head, he closed his eyes. He was so tired, why was that? Looking over at the clock that was on the floor next to his 'bed', he shook his head. It was 1 in the afternoon. That was a considerable amount of time to sleep, so then. He'd ask himself again. Why the hell was he so tired?
Hearing the sound of clinking pots and pans in the Kitchen he yawned.
"Maybe I brought home some way fine chick, and she's the only one in the world that can do something more with an egg then scramble it."
He heard the sound of hot grease and a wonderful smell came wafting through his room.
"Oh it's definitely time to wake up."
Rolling out from underneath the covers and right onto the floor, Taylor pulled himself up. Standing now, he looked down at himself.
"Oh shit. How did I get to bed wearing only boxers?"
His face lit up, maybe he'd brought home that pretty girl after all.
Pulling a shirt over his head, wincing in pain from his monstrous headache, he sighed. Okay. So he had to pay a price for that party last night, but he had to admit. It had been much more fun then all the rest. And if he ever went to another party again, he had the option of consuming an alcoholic beverage or nine.
Stumbling around his room, hoping, and yanking, he managed to get a pair of pants on successfully, and walked to his bedroom door zipping them up.
Yanking the door open he smiled as he noticed the smell of bacon was even stronger out here then in his room.
"Please let it be a hot chick…please oh please."
He walked down the short hallway and into the kitchen as a frown appeared on his face.
"Guten Tag my fair young man. Care for some bacon and eggs?"
Taylor sighed.
"Sure."
"Why so glum?"
Shaking his head, Taylor grabbed for a piece of toast.
"I was hoping you were an, oh say, 17, maybe 18 year old, blond female with gorgeous eyes and we'll not mention the rest."
"Sorry man. Hate to break it to you but I've got the wrong package anyway. Have some egg."
Brent spooned scrambled eggs onto Taylor's plate and replaced the pan on the stove.
"I didn't know I had bacon."
Brent smiled. He'd taken the liberty of going out that morning to stock Taylor's kitchen full of edible, nutritional food.
"You didn't."
Taylor stopped eating.
"Who paid for it?"
"I did. But that's beside the point. Consider it a gift."
Taylor stood, pushing in his chair and walked to the fridge.
"This is full of food Brent, not just bacon."
"Correct."
"I can't afford all this stuff."
"You don't have to afford this man, I told you, a gift from me to you. I know you're a little tight on cash right now, I was going to help you go out and look for a job today, but since you woke up so late I figured we could do it tomorrow."
Taylor shook his head vigorously.
"Brent this won't do. I'm not that much in need okay, and you surely have to expect me to pay this back, I mean, I can't afford all this."
Brent shook his head.
"If it's anything to you, it was my mom's idea. She said she liked you the best out of all my friends. Enjoy it."
Taylor sighed. What, now he was needy? Did people just feel like donating hundreds of dollars worth of food stock for him? This food cost a lot. He had real cereal, bread, cheese, and lunchmeat! He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually had lunchmeat, Mayo, mustard, veggies, and milk. They'd thought of everything.
"Are you sure about this Brent? I mean…c'mon."
"I'm positive. Now all you need to do is get a job."
Nodding he looked back at Brent.
"Thanks man."
"No problem."
Sitting back down at the table, Taylor shoveled in another mouth full.
"So good sir, would you enjoy a sandwich? How about a bowl of soup?"
Brent laughed.
"No, I think I'll spare you're yearly rations alright?"
Zac nodded, chewing on a piece of pancake.
After a period of silence, Tammy sighed.
“So um, are you and Ike maybe…on better terms? I mean, this morning was definitely a surprise.”
“Nagh. Occasionally I like to be able to break bowls in the kitchen. It’s really a stress reliever. And I promise, my conclusion on Ike’s crappy pancakes is based off fact.”
Nodding Tammy reached for her orange juice.
“You know Tammy, really it’s okay that we aren’t best friends. I mean, it’s not imperative that we’re glued at the hips. We had enough of that as kids I guess, you know? I mean…enough is enough. Both of us…we’ve gone our separate ways.”
Shaking her head and reaching for the syrup, Tammy thought about what exactly she wanted to say.
“Well it doesn’t mean you guys can’t be close either you know? You can definitely do ‘brother’ stuff.”
Zac shrugged. Pausing for a moment, he set down his fork.
“Maybe someday. I’m wouldn’t be counting on a family picnic any time soon.”
“I wasn’t.”
Tammy smiled and forked another pancake onto his plate.
Zac poured Syrup over it and picked up his fork.
“So what’s on the agenda for today? Anything special?”
Tammy shook her head.
“Ike has two classes today, and I think he’s decided to talk a trip over to your mom’s house tonight, so I don’t think he’ll be back till late.”
“Mm.”
“And so maybe we should stop by Block Buster, grab a few shoot em up movies and throw some popcorn in the microwave?”
“Sure. No prob.”
Tammy frowned.
“Why so blue? Just minutes ago you were fine.”
“I know. Just thinkin’ all of a sudden I guess.”
Tammy nodded, reaching over and giving his shoulder a nudge.
“She’ll call today.”
Zac looked up, shaking his head and sighing.
“I don’t think so.”
“She will. I wouldn’t worry.”
“I’m not even sure what I’m worried about.”
Looking around the kitchen, and shrugging, Tammy turned back to him.
“I can’t help you there.”
“How’d you know anyway?”
She paused, feeling a smile begin to creep it’s way onto her face.
“Know what?”
“Oh c’mon Tammy, I know you know what.”
Laughing and patting his hand, she crumpled up her napkin and threw it onto her plate.
“You were mad at me last night, I was very careful to make sure I wasn’t stepping on any toes, and this morning you obviously didn’t seem to be pissed at me, and since she called, I figure it had to be that. You weren’t out last night either…deductive reasoning I guess.”
Zac smiled.
“I’m glad you knew though…I mean, it just makes it easier I guess.”
“Sure kid. No prob.”
Standing up and pushing in her chair, she grabbed her plate and the syrup.
“Here, help me clear the table and then we’ll go see about those movies.”
The past couple days had been a bit confusing, strange, a new idea and something he’d not really looked forward to, but seemed to be doing okay. He still didn’t like the fact that he was sharing his house with Zac, but he figured it could be much much worse. Taylor could be around, and there’s no telling what would happen then. Anyway, Zac had seemed to be coping just fine. Hadn’t started any major fights between he and Tammy, hadn’t started any fights between the both of them, and hadn’t disobeyed too badly yet.
Then again there was always the ‘yet’ he had to worry about. It seemed before he’d moved out, there’d always been something to worry about with Zac, so it wasn’t going to come as a surprise if they had a major bitch fest over partying till 4 in the morning or something. It was almost expected.
Shaking his head Isaac pulled the keys out and opened his door. It’d been a few days since he’d stopped home, hadn’t told mom he was coming. He would apologize for that, all in good time.
Walking up to the door he sighed.
“She’s going to ask all about Zac, and be all worried that he’s miserable, and that he’s having a horrible time, and I just know she wants to hear me say that Zac wants to come home.”
Pausing for a moment, he shook his head.
“Now that I think about it…Zac hasn’t asked once.”
That was true though. Now that he really processed the thoughts, he’d had to conclude that Zac hadn’t once said he’d wanted to go home. Hadn’t even whined about the family, or the food, or the room.
“Maybe he’s resolved himself to the fact.”
Shrugging, Isaac opened the door and stepped inside.
