Dedication
For my parents and my siblings, and for all of the characters in my life that have inspired these stories.
Foreword by Tyler Blanton
When I met Zachary Leonard, it was through a mutual friend. At the time our friend worked for a since-closed pie shop in Denver, Colorado and it was at the bar there that we were first acquainted. I remember him hard at work typing on his laptop, a beer set in front of him, doing the familiar mental gymnastics that come with writing. I had come in to chat and luckily he welcomed a distraction in the form of my company, and I will always be grateful that he did. Almost immediately, it was clear to me that he was a storyteller. I remember sipping whiskey, my eyes wide open, in awe of some of the stories he told of his travels and his everyday life. Highlighting the chaos that can arise from the mundane and excitement of experiencing new places, he was the personification, for me, of what it meant to live a well-traveled, dramatic life, always prepared to keep on moving through hard times and never afraid to share.
A few years have passed now since that meeting, and I have come to hear so many more of Zachary’s stories, both real and imagined, and can not say how much of a pleasure it is to introduce this collection of them to you. I have heard what drives the ideas, discussed ways to develop them further, read drafts, and have been fortunate enough to be present for some of the events that inspired them. I can say, too, that this experience has truly helped me grow. Zachary’s words have given me an enhanced understanding of the depths that lie behind the tiny gestures and the nuances of our lives when they involve people that we love. We each, I believe, have a set of tiny somethings that mean the world to us, and you would be hard-pressed, reader, to finish this book without relating to it.
To put into words the little victories and the little deaths that make up characters with intimate, fulfilling, and, at times, troubled personal lives requires not only a deft craftsman but also an emotionally generous mind. Fiction, at its best, is here to take us through the experience of being someone else and then leave us feeling more connected to our worlds. With this volume, that is exactly what you can expect. These stories will place you behind the eyes of their characters and guide you through stories that underline the significance of moments both large and small, both good and bad. Whether from a gentle kiss on the forehead, an unexpected display of affection, an unwelcome diagnosis, or the process of learning to trust, it is through these stories I have come to understand that every aspect of our lives, every blip on the radar, is so much more meaningful than we may initially realize.
When you flip through these next few pages and dive into the experiences and imaginings of my dearest friend, I ask that you keep both your mind and your heart open. Since the first day I met Zachary, I knew I had to do the same that I ask of you, and he has only ever led me to a better understanding of him, of myself, and of the world around me. And truly, reader, when we sit down to enjoy fiction, isn’t that the point?
Wait, What?
I was not drunk, just slightly inebriated. I’m pretty sure of that. I didn’t love to drink but I needed it in social situations like this one. Otherwise, I’d have been sitting in the corner sipping my soda water in silence. Instead, I had two vodka sodas and three shots of tequila.
We were celebrating my friend Becca being published in a big magazine for the first time.
Maybe I was drunk, because there I was stumbling over to some hot guy in a flannel shirt at this gay bar, a place I’d normally never go, keeping hard eye contact to let him know that it was him I was coming towards.
“HEY,” I said, or maybe I shouted it.
“Hi,” he replied without even looking my way.
“Oh, uh, oh god I didn’t think this through.”
“What?” he asked turning my way. “I can’t hear you, the music is so loud.”
“I really like your hairline,” I said, and he shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, um, you have really great hair. My hair has been falling out since I was sixteen so I really appreciate a, uh, good hairline.”
He smiled politely and said he needed to use the restroom. I turned and walked back towards Becca, who had sent me his way.
“Awe how’d it go?” She asked.
“Not well,” I said to her then asked the bartender for another shot of tequila. “How is it that I literally do not know how to talk to people? I can’t even have a simple conversation without making a fool of myself.” I tilted the shot into my mouth and bit the lime.
“I think I have to kill him,” I said with a gulp to get rid of the bad taste.
“Ummm, what?”
“I literally just complimented that beautiful man on his hairline. I have to kill him before he tells everyone how pathetic I am.”
“Ohhh shut up,” Becca said and ordered me another shot of tequila.
“I have to flirt with someone else tonight,” I said after I threw back the shot. “I have to redeem myself from that embarrassment somehow.”
“Well let’s look around and see who we can find for you!”
“No. That’s too much work. I’ll just text David.”
My head spun as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and struggled to make different facial expressions to unlock the device. Becca tried to grab the phone from my hands but I pulled back before she could get it.
“You arenot texting David! Or any of your exes for that matter!"
“Awe,” I had hit the wall of intoxication. One would definitely consider me a mess. “Come on, I only have like two - wait three- exes. No biggie."
When I woke the next morning, my head was pounding and the sun was screaming. I sat up and looked around the room that wasn’t mine. Blank white walls, green plants, a desk with a notepad, and a blue and purple flannel shirt hanging on the back of the door.
My phone started vibrating in my pocket. I was half thankful I didn’t lose my phone and half thankful that I was still wearing all of my clothes. It was Becca calling.
“Hello?” I said softly so that I didn’t make my presence known to whomever the apartment belonged.
“Hey, where are you? I have called you like a hundred times. I have been so worried!”
“I'm okay, I’m okay,” I said to calm her down. “I honestly don’t know where I am. I must have gone home with someone last night.”
I was embarrassed to admit it. Going home with strangers wasn’t something I did. I was by no means a prude, but let’s be honest, I was definitely a prude.
“Oh,” her tone changed from worry to a flirtatious excitement. “And how did that go?”
“Uh, I have no idea. I can’t remember anything. I just woke up in this bed alone a minute ago. My head is killing me.”
“Oh my what are you going to do?” I could hear footsteps coming from outside the door.
“I’m not sure yet but I have to go,” I said and hung up.
The doorknob spun and the door opened slowly
