No Matter What // Zayn Malik

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Olivia's POV

I bursted out laughing as I turned the radio on, hearing the latest music that was trending in the states.

"W-W-What is this? T-This is a real song?!" I bursted out laughing in the passenger seat, keeling over as Zayn looked a little startled beside me.

"What? Thrift Shop? {Aka the best song EVA} " Zayn chuckled.

"I-Is that the name?" I wiped a tear from my eye, leaning back in my seat now.

"Oh yeah," Zayn grinned before belting out the lyrics and doing a little dance in the driver's seat at a stop light. "I wear your granddad's clothes, I look incredible,"

I only laughed harder, Zayn joining in with me. "Oh my gosh, stop! I-I can't. This song!"

"Is it really that funny? It's quite catchy to me."

"I think it is. They're singing about a thrift shop. A thrift shop for crying out loud!" I changed my voice, trying to sound like a little girl. "Is that your grandma's jacket?" Zayn laughed as I did too, his deeper one joining in with mine.

He laughed a little longer than me, so I had to ask what was so funny. We had to stop at another red light and his head was resting on the wheel as he started laughing uncontrollably.

He straightened himself out though, fixing his eyes back on the road, but still snickering a little. "Remember the time when you wore that shirt Ben bought you?" Zayn recalled as my eyes widened.

"Oh, the 'I'm Not Listening' one?" Ah, perfect shirt for a deaf girl.

"That one, y-yes!"

"That was hilarious. I still have that shirt, you know! Gosh, Ben was so scared to give it to me since he thought I'd get mad. I loved it though. It was so funny."

Zayn and I talked like this all the time. Sometimes I forgot we were in a relationship. He was my best friend. Still. I loved this boy. I loved him a lot. Nothing was more comforting than falling in love with your best friend. I could still tell him all my personal stuff and wouldn't have to worry about him spreading it. We promised, even if things didn't work out like we planned, we'd still stay friends.

His arm stayed around my shoulder as we walked into the little vintage cafe. I smiled a little, grinning at the logo.

"I thought you'd like it here." He whispered in my ear, tickling me with his breath.

Cocoa & Dough was a little cafe in a little area of town my dad would take me to when I was little. He'd order me a hot chocolate and a muffin if I was doing good when it came to my sign language lessons. I might sit and color on some sheets quietly to myself or get lost in another long book while he would do some work. We'd play tic tac toe and hangman as well. Sometimes he drew silly pictures to make me laugh.

He'd write to me on the napkin, maybe asking how school was. My dad was always much closer to me than my mother was. When I was younger, I wasn't very close to her at all really. I was always a Daddy's girl. He gave me the attention I needed being deaf. My mother would never admit it but I knew she slightly resented the fact that I was her deaf child. 

Her mistake.

I only realized this when I was older. It explained how her face fell when she'd ask me a question, yell at me when I didn't answer, then remember I was deaf and have to remember the sign language we agreed to use if anyone needed to talk to me.

Sometimes I slightly resented her. She didn't love me at my darkest moments, but suddenly loved me when I was shining bright. I never said anything. I never told anyone. Being deaf gave me plenty of time with my thoughts. Sometimes too much time. I overanalyzed everything. I freaked myself out. I used to have anxiety attacks.