I shrugged. “It is what it is,” I said dismissively, even though my feelings on the subject of my parents were vast and complicated. I didn’t let myself think about it too much because it was too damn painful sometimes.
“And the community service… how’s that going?” Zack asked.
“It’s… going,” I said.
“Oh boy.”
I groaned. “The men hate me,” I admitted. “And I don’t know if it’s personal or if they’re just trying to teach me a lesson or something. Whatever… it’s not like I care, it’s just annoying to have to go there every day and deal with that shit. Not to mention it makes doing the work that much harder because no one’s willing to help me out at all.”
“Fuck, that blows. And no one’s willing to make things easier on you?”
“Why would they?” I asked. “I’m a nobody to them. There is one guy who’s been pretty decent to me though.”
/> “Oh yeah?”
“He’s the one I report to everyday… his name’s Seth. He’s actually really nice to me.”
“Well, that’s something.”
I narrowed my eyes at Zack. “It’s a small something, but I guess I’ll just have to take what I can get. It’s just hard to be positive, man… I have so much shit to deal with. I can’t sell pot, which means my source of income is down the drain. I have to resort to going to all these lame ass job interviews that require your average corporate stooge. And then there’s the roommate issue. I still haven’t found one.”
“Oh that’s right,” Zack nodded. “You’re looking for a roommate.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you just moved in with me and took care of half the rent,” I pointed out.
“Please,” Zack said. “If I moved in with you I’d get nothing done.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning you party so hard it leaves no time left over to be productive.”
“I’m productive,” I said defensively.
“You’re an artist,” Zack said. “What you do is very different. I happen to be one of those corporate stooges you hate so much.”
I smiled. “No offense.”
“Fuck you.”
I laughed, and a second later the waitress showed up with our pizzas and our drinks. She set them down in front of us, gave Zack a parting smile and then walked away. Zack watched her go with obvious appreciation.
“She’ll do, won’t she?”
I shrugged. “Not my type,” I said.
Zack turned to me and frowned. “Excuse me?”
“What?” I asked, taking a slice of pizza.
“She’s exactly your type,” Zack pointed out. “Blond and blue-eyed and great body.”
My thoughts immediately flitted to Zoey, and I felt another wave of disappointment. It didn’t look like she was going to step into the station anytime soon. I had been on the cusp of asking some of the firefighters about her because they all seemed to recognize her name when I had mentioned it to them, but no one had offered me an explanation as to how they all knew her. In the end, I hadn’t asked after her. No one would give me a straight answer anyway. They’d probably just use that information against me, so I had decided to leave well enough alone.
“Hmm… maybe my attention has been caught elsewhere,” I admitted.
Zack turned and looked around. “Really?” he asked. “Which girl are you checking out?”
I smiled. “She’s not here, dude,” I said. “She’s a girl I met a short while ago.”