I'll Get Over The Way You Got Over Me

Chapter 3

They have a day off about a week later, and Harry and Niall decide to go golfing. They invite Liam along as well, but he begs off, (golfing is their thing, really, even if Liam does enjoy a good game now and then, and definitely enjoys playing with them more than with anyone else), says he'll find Zayn and drag him out to lunch instead, maybe.

Niall and Harry look at each other for a moment, and then Harry shrugs his wide shoulders and turns to Liam, smiling wide. "Alright," he says, as Niall leans forward and pats Liam's shoulder, soft thumb rubbing over the dip of Liam's collarbone briefly. "Give us a shout if you change your mind, though," Harry continues, "we won't be far, we'll send someone back for you."

"Cheers, mate," Liam says, touched, and he's still smiling softly to himself as they leave, bantering and shoving at each other like little kids, disappearing out of the bus. He thinks about going to find Zayn now, maybe; it's only about a half-hour until noon, and if they're going for lunch, he might as well start working on Zayn now.

He's halfway out of his seat when he hears laughter, and it's Zayn, quite clearly. Zayn's laughter always stands out for Liam, in among the other lads', and he recognizes them all so easily, so effortlessly, but Zayn's—Zayn's is different, somehow. It makes Liam want to laugh too, even if he has no idea why Zayn's laughing, except. He's not so sure he wants to laugh right now, feels something almost like dread settle in his stomach, and he doesn't really want to think about why, doesn't want to consider—but it's too late to duck away, isn't it, and then Zayn's coming into the lounge, already fully dressed, ripped jeans and a Guns 'n Roses tank top and a leather jacket on top, (Liam's leather jacket, Liam notices, and he's—it annoys him, a little, that Zayn's taken it without asking, even if it's never annoyed him before), and Louis' following behind him, grinning wide and mischievous and smug, like he knows he's the reason Zayn's killing himself laughing.

Maybe they'll just leave, Liam thinks, which doesn't really make much sense at all because he's never wanted any of the boys just just leave before, and he should be happy when they notice him on the sofa and stop for a minute, smiling at him, including him in their happiness, but he's—

He's not.

He's confused, he thinks.

"Hey Leeyum," Zayn says, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Me and Louis are heading out for a bit, yeah, might not be back until the show tonight but don't worry, we'll be here." Louis nudges him, like it's some sort of inside joke, (another one, Liam thinks, a bit bitter, but he tamps it down, stubbornly), and Zayn giggles into his own shoulder, staring up at Louis.

"Oh," Liam says, and he tries really, really hard to keep the sullenness out of his voice, but he thinks he fails pretty spectacularly, or maybe Zayn just knows him well enough, because Zayn's smile fades a little bit, the smallest of frowns settling between his brows.

"Something wrong, mate?" he asks, all gentle and concerned, and Liam pastes on his best smile for him.

"Nah, no, it's nothing," he says, waves a hand a little, but Zayn doesn't stop looking at him, (Louis' looking too, but Liam's not really looking at Louis, which—), so he adds on, "I just thought maybe you and me could've gone, like, could've gone for lunch or something, maybe, I dunno, but it's—it's fine, I'll hang out here instead, go on."

Something almost like regret flickers across Zayn's face, gone in a flash, and then he's smiling again. "Another time, yeah?" he says, and Liam thinks, right, thinks, like you'll ever have time when you've got Louis, but he doesn't let it show, doesn't let his smile waver for even a minute. He's very good at smiling.

"Yeah," he agrees, pleasantly, "another time."

Louis puts his hands on Zayn's shoulders, pushes gently. "Let's move out, Zayn, c'mon," he says, impatiently, "we're on a tight schedule here." And they're moving away, plastered together, and Louis' saying, "That was a bit rude, wasn't it, inviting you out for lunch without me when I'm right there," and he's laughing about it, like he doesn't mean it, or like he doesn't mean for Liam to hear, and Liam feels something heavy settle in his stomach, something sour on his tongue.

He clenches his jaw shut and very consciously doesn't think, oh, like how you're not inviting me out with you when I've obviously got nothing else on, but it's a close thing.

~

It's only a little less than three hours until Harry and Niall return, red-cheeked and grinning, chatting animatedly about their game still, (it sounds like Harry won, but Liam can't be sure), but they stop when they see Liam in the same spot they left him, silence hovering awkwardly between them, until finally Niall says, "Alright, Payno, how was lunch with Zayn?" and there's something in his voice that says he knows exactly what Liam'll answer before he does.

"Didn't end up going," Liam says, shorter than he means to, and he tries to rectify it by offering them a smile to ease the rough edges a bit. It doesn't look like it works, but he supposes it was worth a try, at least. "He had a thing with Louis, so."

"Oh," Harry says, and Niall adds, "You should've rung us, we would've let ye' join our game, like."

Liam shrugs. "I didn't wanna interrupt, or something," he says, and it's half true.

Niall makes a face at him, makes his way over to sit next to him on the sofa, and grabs his shoulders in both of his hands, looking him straight in the eye. "You wouldn't've been," he insists, very firmly, and Liam knows, is the thing, he knows. Because, because that's the thing, isn't it? That Zayn and Louis are probably only shopping or something, nothing important as such, maybe catching a film while they're at it and grabbing a bite to eat, and they didn't invite Liam, and it's—it's fine, it's not like—sometimes Liam and Zayn do things and they don't invite anyone, because they want to spend some time together just the two of them but—

But Louis and Zayn've been spending all their time alone together, lately, and. And Niall and Harry were playing an actual game, with rules and scores to keep track of, a fixed beginning and end, and they still would've let Liam ring them up halfway through and join in late, just so he wouldn't have had to sit around by himself in the bus.

That's the difference, isn't it.

Liam doesn't remember the last time he and Zayn did anything together, just the two of them. That's the other thing, probably. That it's been ages since he's had some proper Zayn time, and he's supposed to be Zayn's favorite, the one Zayn—but he's not, anymore. So.

~