Coda 03 -The Letter Z

For the first time in my life, I understand why people will drop a shitload of money on a painting. First time in my life I wished I could do it too.
    I want Zach to see it. I know he won’t get it. I know he won’t see it the way I do. But I want him to see it anyway. I don’t talk to him much ’bout real shit, like how I feel ’bout him. But I feel like if I show him this, he’ll get to see part of me—part of me I haven’t been able to show him before.
    Jared’s gone back out to look for ’em. I walk to the door of the gallery and see ’em talkin’ to some dude. Jared’s shakin’ his hand, smilin’ like he always does. Zach looks like he wants to get out of there fast, and when I walk up to him, the relief on his face is obvious.
    “Zach, come on man. You gotta see this painting—”
“Ang,” Jared suddenly says, “how do you feel about dinner tonight?” Why’s he askin’ me ’bout dinner? It’s not even ten o’clock yet.
    “Yeah man, what the fuck ever,” I say, tryin’ not to be annoyed at Jared. Just a minute ago I felt like we were friends again, and I want to hang on to that. I head back to the gallery. “Just hurry up, will ya?” I say to Zach. I can tell he wants to come with me. Not sure why he doesn’t.
    Jared comes back a minute later, and then Zach and Matt come in. They’re actin’ weird too. Glancin’ at each other, like they know somebody’s ’bout to get hit by lightning, and they’re just waitin’ to see who.
    I’m still lookin’ at the painting. All the pictures are cool, but there’s one ’specially that I love. One that seems like it must have been painted just for me. Zach comes and stands behind me, so I can lean back against him. He puts one arm ’round my neck. I know Jared and Matt wish he wouldn’t be so obvious. I also know Zach doesn’t even realize he acts different than they do. It never occurs to him to worry ’bout what other people think, and I don’t care a bit. I’d never tell him to quit.
    His lips are just above my ear. “This is the one you like?” he asks quietly.
“Yes.”
    He’s quiet for a few seconds, while he looks at it. “It’s really pretty,” he says. That’s more than I expected. Expected him to say it was weird. “I don’t really get it,” he says, “but it’s nice.”
    “Wish we could take it home,” I say.
    He glances around. “No price tags on the wall, which is a dead giveaway that it costs more than you and I make in a year.”
“I know. There’s a book too.”
“Why don’t you buy that then?”
“It’s a hundred bucks.”
    “Wow,” he says, which is what I thought, too, when the lady told me. “I’m sorry, Ang,” he says. And the thing is, he means it. That’s why I love him so much.
    We finally leave the gallery. Funny how hard it is to walk away. Zach promises me we’ll come back and see it again before we leave. We wander ’round a bit more, then finally stop for lunch. Matt and Zach are still actin’ weird, glancin’ at each other every minute or two.
    “What’s up with you two?” I finally ask.
    They both look a little startled. They clearly have no clue how fuckin’ obvious they are, although in their defense, Jared looks surprised too. Like even he didn’t realize they were actin’ like two kids caught standin’ over a broken cookie jar.
    “What do you mean?” Matt asks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Don’t gimme that,” I say. “What goin’ on?” I’m tryin’ not to laugh, but then I look at Zach. The look he’s givin’ me—I know right then it’s somethin’ I’m not gonna like.
“You remember the man we were talking to earlier, when you came out of the gallery?”
“Sure. Why?”
“We’re having dinner with him tonight.”
Seems kinda weird they decided to have dinner with some guy they just met, but what the fuck ever. Why should I care? “Okay,” I say.
We all sit there for a second. Jared looks as confused as I feel. Matt’s looking everywhere but at me. Zach’s eyes are on mine, but he looks scared to death. And then I find out why. He takes a deep breath and says, “That was Jonathan.”
It takes me a minute to process that. Zach and I don’t talk much ’bout his past, mostly ’cause I can’t fuckin’ handle it. Can’t stand to think ’bout the guys he was with before me. I know it’s childish, but it’s just the way it is. Still, I know ’bout Jonathan.
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” I say, and I know my