About the River and Cliché | Zarry

Chapter Seven

Harry always drives fast.

It is not like he's an impatient person. But it has been a bad habit since he first found himself inside a metal vehicle, pedaling down and he would be miles away before he knows it. "No one is chasing us, Harry!" Liam always screams when given a ride, seizing the handle with one hand as the other desperately draws a cross in front of his chest. All Harry does is turn the radio up, humming along to the tune as he rushes down another three blocks.

"You're a dangerous driver."

Harry shoots a fierce glare to the man in the passenger seat, who is resting his arm on the car door. The wind wafts in from the open window and messes Harry's fringes up. He pushes his long hair back as they flap around his cheeks, speeding up the car with only one hand on the wheel.

"If you insist on driving like that, we'll either finish this tour in ten minutes or we both die at the end of the road."

Harry snorts. That's probably the first sound he has made during this ride, "That could be a better ending for us."

Zayn turns his head around. There is a vague smile on his face, with his mouth drawn in an uncertain angle. "Are you really that mad about this, baby?"

"Stop using that nasty term." Harry gnaws on his words. The traffic light has turned red, but Harry ignores it. Zayn chuckles at his anger, arranging his hair on the side mirror. "I honestly don't know what is bothering you so much," says Zayn calmly, "the fact that our parents are getting married or the fact we've fucked before?"

"Maybe you should just, like, look at the scenery and stop talking." Harry grunts, narrowing his eyes at the sunset.

"That was the original intention of this ride, but you didn't give me much of a choice." Zayn sniffs, playing with the door lock. Harry stays quiet. He doesn't even know why he is even in the car with Zayn now. He should've driven back to San Francisco right away when he spotted him in the front yard. It is a sign. It is karma crawling to him.

Harry slows down the pace, not because he has calmed down from his madness, but his racing heart is causing his hands to sweat so much that he can hardly control the car. Zayn is scanning those petty houses along the road, as if he is actually fond of the old country style. Chicago kid, Harry thinks. Life with skyscrapers and neon lights can never be found in this timeless town that looks exactly the same as what it was twenty years ago.

"I've been living in L.A. on my own for a while." Zayn speaks out of blue, not even checking if Harry is listening, "I got a call from my dad three weeks ago, telling me he's engaged. I thought it was a joke, that he just wanted me to go back home... and I was kinda wishing those were his plans."

"That was until I met my family at the airport." Zayn continues, "He told me we were going to...uh...what is the name of this town again?" Zayn turns to Harry who seems to be frozen, "Anyway, it still sounded like a joke to me. No offense, but I didn't think this place actually existed. Doniya - my sister - told me that my father met your mother while he's driving to Las Vegas, and his car broke down in the middle of the trip. He went for miles for help, and the sign of your mother's restaurant was the first light he saw."

Harry makes a grimace immediately, "Sounds like those Hollywood movies from 80s."

"You don't believe the story?"

"I don't care at all. I'm going back to California right after this shit is done," says Harry pursing his lips, "I just hope she really divorced my father or you'll see me in a few months in court pleading against her bigamy."

Zayn leans back, sneering, "Oh yeah, your mother told me you're a lawyer." He pauses, purposely, "No wonder you disagree with everything."

"I don't. I'm just being impersonal. So I can view things as a whole." Harry is fed up with this conversation, especially when he sees Niall's old house in the corner. A flame of anger blazes underneath his lungs. Harry turns the car left and almost bumps into the fire hydrant on the sidewalk. He utters something before Zayn starts to complain. "Speaking of disagree, didn't your mother say anything about this marriage?"

"I couldn't ask for her opinion. She's gone."

"My father too." Harry mutters in contempt, "They just, disappeared one day as they wanted."

Zayn eyes him coldly, laughing at Harry in a rough tone. "Yeah, may she rest in peace."

It was a long silence.

Suddenly, Harry can feel embarrassment creep up on him, as his cheeks turn red. He's been awfully blunt. He's overcome with a mix of emotions: shame, compassion, guilt... but most of all irritation. Nevertheless, the feelings wither down when they pass by Lorie's restaurant. It is crowded with residents like always. His sentiment is replaced by vacancy.

"Why did you move to California?" Harry asks, trying to divert the topic.

It takes Zayn a long moment to react that Harry even wonders if he's meant to neglect him, "well," Zayn answers eventually, rearing up the car window, "Chicago is nice. But sometimes you need to distance yourself from what you're familiar with. I'm a DJ at a local club, and sometimes I travel with my crew too. Well, that's how I met you in Berkeley."

Harry pretends he doesn't hear it.

"I have a wild time there. Even though my dad isn't really happy with the decision I made. I do Skype my family sometimes, but only come home, like, twice a year." Zayn keeps on, facing the windshield, "He says I'm disloyal to my character."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry disputes. But Zayn is more curious about something else, "Are you driving us back? I haven't been anywhere here."

"Nothing is worth visiting in this town." said Harry exhaustedly, "Unless you wanna spend hours looking at grocery stores or the river, there's no such fun to discover here."

Zayn twists his head immediately, "There's a river?"

"Nobody'd like to visit that damn river, trust me." Harry rolls his eyes, "It's the most lifeless place here. We don't even bother to give it a name. It's just 'the river'."

The sun is nearly missing from the horizon. Zayn gasps when the last glow wanes from his face, "Does it ever get boring, being this hateful?"

Harry contains his temper, deciding not to say another word till this trip ends. However, Zayn brings up another question when the Styles house is within their sight.

"You know why I picked you at the bar?"

It is unexpected to the situation. Harry doesn't really want to talk about it, so he tosses his wry answer. "'cause you wanted to fuck me?"

"Part of the reason." Zayn gives out a dry laugh, "But the thing is, I thought you were the kind of person who's loyal to their character. I suppose I was wrong."