stars and terrain (zayn malik)

Chapter 28

Zayn

Thirty-four times. I’ve called thirty-four times since I landed and I’ve redirected my car to drive to the club.

She’s not answering, and I know clubs are loud but this is Charlie we’re talking about. She didn’t even want to go. She told me she usually sits at tables on her phone at clubs, why would tonight be any different?

I feel like something’s wrong. I felt it since we touched down at LAX. I wish I had her friends’ numbers.

I climb out of the car before it’s even put in park, racing to the front of the line and actually wanting to be recognized for once. You know who I am, let me in.

I don’t even have to say it, the doorman instantly lets me through.

“That’s why that chick was here,” I hear him say to his friend, and I relax a little. So she is here.

Once inside I wish I had the power to make them turn on the house lights. It’s dark and the bass is thumping and the strobe lights aren’t helping me spot her. I’m scanning the crowd and my eyes finally catch on a tall blonde on the dance floor who I recognize from Charlie’s photos. I look around her for my brunette but she’s nowhere I can see.

Alli, this must be Alli. I push through people to reach the incredibly drunk blonde and grab her shoulder.

“It’s you!” She squeals. “Oh my God, where’s Hillary? Hillary!” She shrieks another girl’s name, the wrong girl.

“Where’s Charlie?”

A girl named Hillary is now wrapping her arms around me and telling me its nice to meet me and lingering way too long to be anyone Charlie is actually friends with, and I really have to work to control my temper.

I pull back and ask again. “Where’s Charlie?”

The name at least registers with this girl, and she narrows her eyes. “Shit, I haven’t seen her in a while. Alli, where’s Charlie?”

“She was just dancing with us,” Alli says, motioning to a tall, really good-looking guy. Jealousy creeps in, but it’s outweighed by concern. Why don’t her friends know where she is?

“Where did she go?” I ask, searching around the table to make sure I didn’t miss her sitting and hiding somewhere.

“Oh shit,” the good-looking guy pipes in. “Where’s Tom? She was with Tom.”

Tom. Who the fuck is Tom? I clench my teeth.

“Well, where’d they go?” Hillary asked, her hand never leaving my lower back.

I step forward, towards the only person who seems to have any information and try to stay calm.

“Where do you think they went?”

“I don’t know, but he was talking about her a lot before we got here,” this guy explains, looking concerned. “And kept talking about how she’s dating you.”