stars and terrain (zayn malik)

Chapter 35

Charlotte

So now he's inviting me to the Grammys?

I don't see the text until the morning, when I have a toothbrush sticking out of my mouth as I go collect my phone from the living room.

It took me being mad and hanging up on him to invite me to the Grammys?

I try to look at it rationally, that maybe he just realized he hadn't invited me yet. But it seems too well timed, like he's pacifying my anger.

It's already eleven so I missed my would-be casting. I call Alli and let her know I didn't go, telling her I'm sick instead of admitting the real reason I flaked.

She asks if I need anything, because she's a good friend who doesn't suspect I'm lying to her, and I promise I'll be fine.

Zayn's name flashes on my screen and I answer because it's not a video call. I don't want my face to betray me. I don't want to keep fighting about this while he's on the road. We can talk about it in person eventually, but I don't want the distance and an argument to force an unnecessary wedge between us.

"Charlie." His voice is so relieved when I pick up before I even say anything.

"Hi," I say quietly, my mouth slipping up into a smile at his voice.

I'm so lame.

"I'm sorry," he says, simply.

"I don't want to fight," I say. It's not granting any forgiveness, because I'm still not okay with his weird issues, but it's the truth.

"Will you please go to the Grammys with me? I mean, if you want to?"

I'm so glad he can't see me, because I'm grinning like an idiot. "Sure."

"So you really want to? I'm sorry I didn't ask before, I just thought you wouldn't be interested or that maybe you wouldn't want to go," he rambles.

"If you want me to go with you, I would love to go," I say simply. It's the truth. My paranoia about him wanting to be solo at the award show finally dissipates.

"I want you to go everywhere with me, Charlie. You know that."

And just like that, everything is forgiven. All of my resolve crumbles and we spend the next hour falling back into place, talking about nonsense and grumbling about how much we miss each other.

~*~

"That one. Definitely."

Alli has said this about the last four dresses I've tried on. Every single one has been the one. Even the burgundy one that I would have had to hold up all night to avoid a nip slip.

"I'm serious this time!" she exclaims, referring to the sleek, deep emerald gown with cut outs at the hips. "It's very Grammys. Sexy, but still elegant."

I have to admit it's my favorite of the cluster of dresses the salesgirl collected for me once I told her where I was going.

I send Zayn a mirror pic like the last four I sent to get his reaction. I want to be wearing whichever one is his favorite.

Instead of a text telling me how good I look my phone rings this time, so I disappear back into the dressing room to answer.

"Hey."

"That's the one," it's the first thing he says, and his voice sounds deep and impossibly sexy so I know he's right.

"You sure?" I ask, running my hand down the front of the gown. The cut outs are a little much.