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Can't Remember to Forget You

Not a Date

"Mrs. Todlin, is there anything I can help you with?" I asked the elderly woman standing in front of a bookshelf. She was obviously looking for a certain book and judging by the look on her face, she was having trouble locating it.

"Yes, I need to replace my copy of King Lear," she fretted, turning away from the shelf. "I left it down when my daughter came to visit with her kids and their new dog tore it to shreds. It's sad, really."

I chuckled to myself. I'd always remembered Mrs. Todlin being a fan of Shakespeare, even when my parents ran the store. I'm sure it had something to do with her being a retired English teacher. "I think I have a few," I told her, leading her to the back of the store. "Granted, they're a little worse for the wear. But they're still readable." I plucked one of the better-looking copies of King Lear from the shelf and handed it to Mrs. Todlin. "This is the best one I have, sorry it's still a bit scudded up."

The little old woman smiled. "Well that just means it's been loved and enjoyed by plenty of other people," she said.

As I was checking out Mrs. Todlin, the bell above the door dinged! and I glanced up just in time to see Zacky dart into the store behind a woman with a young child. I caught his eye and smiled, something he seemed surprised to see. After he'd helped me during my episode at the karaoke bar the other night, I'd been trying my hardest to change my attitude towards Zacky. He might be a tad annoying at times, but he'd shown that he could be level-headed and a good guy in general.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Mrs. Todlin," I called to her as she left. She gave me a short wave over her shoulder before disappearing outside. I leaned forward and rested my elbow on the counter, plopping my head into my hand as I watched Zacky approach the counter. "Don't you have a job?" I joked. "Or a life?"

"I happen to have a life," Zacky replied. "Even if it's mostly sitting around and drinking. And since we're not on tour or recording, I'm essentially on vacation!"

"Lucky bastard," I muttered, and Zacky chuckled. I felt a sudden tug in my gut, and I knew I needed to bring up the other night at the karaoke bar. "So uh, about the other night...I just wanted to say thank you. Most people freak out when they see me have a seizure for the first time, and I'm glad you kinda kept a level head."

Zacky made a face, waving his hand at me. "It's no big deal," he assured me. "I did freak out a little. But I mean, who wouldn't freak out when someone drops at their feet?"

"Anyway, thanks again," I said. "So is there any particular reason you're here? Because for the short amount of time I've known you, you always have a reason to show up wherever I am."

Zacky smirked. "Actually, I wanted to see if you'd like to come over to my house for dinner tonight," he explained simply. I opened my mouth to give some excuse, but Zacky silenced me by holding up a hand. "Hey, I think you owe it to me. Since you're so thankful."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but Zacky didn't seem fazed. Maybe bringing up the karaoke bar wasn't such a good idea after all? "Fine," I agreed. "But on two conditions."

"Condition away," Zacky said.

"Number one, it can't be tonight because I have rehearsal," I listed, holding up a single finger. Zacky just shrugged nonchalantly. "And two," I paused, making sure I held Zacky's gaze. "It is not a date."

. . .

"Alright Wren and Keiundra, let's work on Any Way You Want It," the director shouted out as two other performers left the stage. He peered at us over the top of his wire-rim glasses. "Remember, three weeks until opening night, so give it your all."

The music began playing and I hung back as Keiundra - who played Justice - stepped up and said her spoken lines. "That stage is a pedestal," she said, gesturing with her hand. "And when you're up there, you're untouchable. And when you're up there, you can have it...anyway you want it, that's the way you need it! Any way you want it!"

"Take Destiny!" she sang, sweeping her hand towards one of the dancers. "She loves to laugh, she loves to sing. She does everything." Keiundra gestured at a second dancer. "And Sapphire...she loves to move, she loves to groove, she loves the lovin' things."

"Oh, all night, all night. Oh, every night. So hold tight, hold tight. Oh baby, hold tight. When it comes to the customer...she said any way you want it, that's the way you need it, any way you want it. She said any way you want it, that's the way you need it, any way you want it."

"I was alone, I never knew what good love could do. Ooh, when we touched, then we sang, about the lovin' things. Hold on, hold on, hold on! Oh!"

"She said any way you want it, that's the way you need it, any way you want it! Any way you want it, that's the way you need it, any way you want it! She said any way you want it, that's the way you need it, any way you want it!"

On cue, I stepped up to center stage and belted out my lines, feeling that wonderful sensation in my stomach that I always got when I sang. "Any way you want it, that's the way you need it, any way you want it! Any way you want it, that's the way you need it, any way you want it! Anyway! Any way you want it. Oh, she said any way you want it, that's the way you need it, any way you want it!"

"Excellent!" the director cheered amidst spattered applause from the other performers and crew. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm feeling incredibly confident about this show. Alright, that's it for tonight. Rest your vocal cords and I'll see you all in two days."

I was making my way off stage when Tori caught up with me. "So do you have any plans for your day off tomorrow?" she asked, falling into step beside me. We pushed through the double doors to the outside and I sighed happily as the cool evening air hit me.

"Yeah, I'm gonna hang with Zacky tomorrow," I told her, pulling out a cigarette. One of Tori's eyebrows shot up into her blonde hair, and it was obvious that my statement had piqued her curiosity. "He invited me over for dinner."

"So you have a date," she said simply, smiling slyly.

"It is not a date."

"It's totally a date."

I rolled my eyes. "No Tori, it's not a date."

My blonde friend sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. I was beginning to think that recounting my earlier conversation with Zacky to Tori wasn't such a good idea. "The man invited you to his house, Wren," she said. "He's probably gonna cook for you. It is so a date!"

"Oh my God, it is not a date!" I exclaimed, flinging out my hands. Tori chuckled. "Friends have dinner with each other. And besides, I'm trying not to push him away so much since he was such a big help when I had a seizure at the karaoke bar. And you're not making it easier."

"I don't understand why you don't want this to be a date," Tori said, shrugging her shoulders. "You're good-looking, Zacky is downright sexy, and you two would make a good couple! But I guess I can understand that you don't really know Zacky that well, so if you'd feel better if I say it's not a date, then it's not a date. But you're gonna go on a real date with this guy eventually, mark my words."

I laughed and shook my head. "If you say so, Tori."

. . .

"This is Casa de Baker," Zacky announced, killing the ignition of his car. "Not super impressive, but it's a house."

I studied Zacky's house. It wasn't small, but it also wasn't too big. It was single-storied, with a light beige paint job. Overall, it was pretty quaint and certainly not what I'd expect from the guitarist of a rock band. "It's cute," I commented, and Zacky chuckled. "So are we just gonna sit in your driveway or are you gonna show me inside?"

"Inside, of course!" Zacky exclaimed. We both exited his car and I followed him to his front door, waiting as he unlocked it and held it open so I could step into his foyer. The inside of Zacky's house was exactly what I expected it to be: messy. There were a few empty beer bottles on the counter, dirty dishes piled in the sink, and a few trash bags stacked next to the nearly-overflowing bin. "Sorry it's so messy," Zacky apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. "I haven't really felt like cleaning much since--"

"It's okay," I interrupted. "You don't have to explain anything to me." I knew that Zacky was trying to say that he hadn't felt like cleaning since his divorce; I could tell by the dull glaze in his normally vibrant green eyes. And I saw no reason to bring that up right now. "So what did you have in mind for dinner?" I asked, taking a seat at the bar separating his kitchen and living room.

"I was thinking lasagna, if that's alright with you," Zacky answered. He went to his fridge and opened it, and I couldn't help but notice that his fridge was pretty bare. Typical bachelor fridge. He closed his fridge and returned to his full height, holding a package of lasagna noodles in his hand. "Sound good?"

"Lasagna sounds amazing," I said. "But I didn't know you cooked. I thought we were gonna order take-out or something."

Zacky let out an indignant huff, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "I'm half-Italian, there was no way I was gonna leave my mother's house without learning to cook a few things," he explained. "But I'm not cooking by myself. You're gonna help."

"What?" I shouted.

"You heard me," Zacky replied, smirking. "Since this 'is not a date', you're gonna help me cook."

I narrowed my eyes at Zacky, who just chuckled softly. I should've known that Zacky would find a way to get back at me for insisting that this wasn't a date. But making me help cook? I was a terrible cook. So terrible that Claire insisted I could burn water. "Alright, I'll help," I agreed begrudgingly, getting to my feet. "But I'm just warning you, I'm a terrible cook."

"Well, then you can just grate the cheeses," Zacky laughed. He went back to his fridge and returned with three small blocks of cheese. Next, he went to the cabinets and pulled out both a bowl and a metal cheese grater. "It's pretty hard to mess up cheese."

"But if there's a way, I'll be the one to find it," I told him. Things got pretty quiet after this, the two of us concentrating on our particular tasks. I was beginning to think I'd finally found a task in cooking that I couldn't mess up, but then I felt a stinging on my fingertips and looked down to see that I'd cut my fingers on the sharp cheese grater. "Shit," I cursed, drawing Zacky's attention. I blushed at my stupidity. "I uh, I cut myself on your cheese grater."

"Wow, you really are bad in the kitchen, Wowza," Zacky cracked, abandoning his cooking to come and see what I'd done to myself. I glared at him, but he only shrugged. He reached for my hand and inspected my fingertips. "It doesn't look that bad," he declared, smiling slightly. "Just a little scrape, barely broke the skin. Just don't bleed in the cheese."

"Thanks for your concern," I said sarcastically, pulling my hand away quickly. My skin tingled where Zacky had been touching it; it was weird and I didn't quite know what to think about it. I shook my head as I washed my hand off in the sink. I was reading too much into all of this, letting Tori and Claire's insistence that Zacky and I get together get under my skin. This was just dinner with one of my new friends, that's it. "So uh, is there anything else I can do?" I asked, drying my hands. "Something that doesn't involve sharp objects?"

Zacky chuckled. "Uh, I guess you could make a salad," he suggested, grinning. "There's should be some lettuce in the bottom drawer of the fridge."

Thankfully, I refrained from injuring myself again as we - well, mostly Zacky - finished cooking dinner. Our conversation actually flowed pretty smoothly; Zacky asked me about my theater and the bookstore, which I was happy to talk about. And he seemed happy to listen, just letting me babble on about musicals and books he'd probably never even heard of.

"I know a little about Broadway, you know," Zacky announced after I'd finished gushing about my favorite performance. I raised an eyebrow, wordlessly asking him to explain further. The last time Broadway had come up in a conversation, he'd told me it was stuffy and boring, so I was curious to see what he claimed to know. "Uh, yeah. Let's see, Broadway has 40 theaters with 500 or more seats located in the Theater District and Lincoln Center along Broadway street in Manhattan." The laughter bubbled up before I could stop it, and Zacky stopped talking to frown at me. "What's so funny?"

"You pulled that straight off the internet!" I exclaimed. "Wikipedia, it sounds like."

"Yeah, so?" Zacky pouted. "At least I'm trying to learn about Broadway." I chuckled again and he huffed. "Alright, enough laughing at me. Let's talk about something else. Like how you ended up running a bookstore. I know that's not something a person just falls into."

I shrugged, feeling the happiness leave my body. I knew where this conversation was ultimately headed and I hated even thinking about it. "It used to be owned by my parents," I said quietly. "But they left it to me when I turned eighteen."

"Left it to you?" Zacky repeated, sounded confused. He was quiet for a split second as he thought about it and then the realization washed over his face. I could see the sympathy filling his eyes and I felt the familiar twisting in my stomach as I thought about having to explain this whole thing to another person. "Oh wow, I'm sorry. How--"

"Drunk driver," I blurted out, cutting him off. "I was seventeen. That's why I don't drive. Because I'm terrified that something like that will happen again, to me or to someone else." I was trembling, biting my lip to prevent myself from crying. My parents had been dead for seven years, but it was still such a tender subject.

"I didn't mean to make you upset, Wren," Zacky said gently, touching my hand. I didn't pull away, mostly because I was craving comfort and Zacky happened to be the one giving it. I was also a little surprised to hear Zacky call me by my actual name instead of that infuriating nickname he'd given me.

"It's okay," I assured him. I took a deep breath. "Is it alright if I smoke in here?"

"Yeah, yeah," Zacky replied, nodding rapidly. "I've got some beer too, if you want any?"

"That'd be fantastic," I said. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, relishing in the bitter taste of nicotine that washed over my tongue. I let out a plume of smoke as Zacky placed a Bud Light in front of me.

"I really am sorry, Wren," Zacky mumbled a few minutes later. "This kinda wasn't how I was hoping this evening would turn out."

"It's alright, it's not like you could've known," I told him. I took a swig of my beer. "But maybe you could take me home? I'm uh, I'm feeling a little tired."

Zacky smiled. "Sure." He got to his feet and snatched his car keys from a hook near the door. I finished off my beer and followed him outside to his car, stomping my cigarette out in his driveway before I climber inside.

"I live in the apartment complex on Turner Street," I told him as we hacked out of the driveway.

Zacky smiled. "I know where you live," he said. He must've noticed the strange look I was giving him, because he added, "What?"

"You're creepy," I mumbled, and Zacky just chuckled. The ride to my apartment was quiet after this, and I fiddled with the radio until I found something I liked. "I'm bullet-proof, nothing to lose," I sang softly. "Fire away, fire away. Ricochet, you take your aim. Fire away, fire away. Shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am titanium."

"You have an incredible voice," Zacky commented, and I jumped in surprise. I thought I'd been singing too softly for him to hear, but it looks like I was wrong.

"Um, thanks," I mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I pointed to a building up ahead. "This is my building."

"Again, I know," Zacky retorted, smirking. He pulled his car into the small parking lot and killed the ignition. Rubbing his thighs, he said, "I uh, hope you had aa good time tonight, Wowza. Even though I kinda almost made you cry by accident."

"It's okay, at least it's out in the open now," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "It's actually kinda...nice to talk to someone besides Claire about it. Actually, you and her are the only ones who really know about it."

"Well I'm glad you kinda trust me enough to tell me," Zacky beamed. His smile was a little infectious and I couldn't help but smile as well.

"Anyway, thanks for dinner," I said again. I climbed out of his car and was about to close the door when he spoke again.

"Maybe next time you'll let me take you out on an actual date," Zacky said. I just rolled my eyes with a laugh, telling him goodbye before I closed the car door and headed up to my apartment.

Notes

Comments

Girl, stop liein to yourself...Zackys PERFECT for you...


You're really talented. I love your stories.

BeccaBearSc BeccaBearSc
2/14/19

This is so well written, you are really good at it. I just wanna hug Zacky i kinda feel bad for him, he's trying so hard lol. Bless him.

HaleyJade HaleyJade
2/11/19

Love it so far!
Looking forward to the upcoming chapters <3

Their relationship is adorable.

BeccaBearSc BeccaBearSc
2/2/19

Oooh a kiss and she's finally giving a chance!

Andlat Andlat
1/31/19