Strings and Schemes

Chapter 27

Graduation day comes quicker than I imagined, with many of our days and nights looking exactly like that—obsessed with one another, finding new ways to make the other buckle under our power. It's intoxicating to have that kind of control, that kind of surrender, that kind of us.

But this morning, instead of waking up tangled in Zayn's sheets, drunk on his presence, I wake up to absolute chaos.

Loud, obnoxious chaos.

"WAKE UP, GRADUATE!" Louis' voice booms through my apartment, followed by the very distinctive sound of pots and pans being smashed together.

"What the fuck—" I shoot up from bed, tangled in my sheets, my brain struggling to catch up with what's happening.

"RISE AND SHINE, BABY GIRL!" Niall hollers from somewhere nearby. I hear the distinct pop of a champagne bottle and what I think is a round of applause.

I blink rapidly, pushing my hair out of my face as my bedroom door bursts open, revealing Louis, Liam, Niall, and Gemma—all dressed in some strange variation of "graduation celebration" attire. Louis has a fake sash on that reads Better Than Raina, Niall is wearing a full suit with sunglasses (for some godforsaken reason), and Gemma is holding a clipboard like she's about to give a presidential briefing.

Liam looks regretful about his life choices but is already halfway through a mimosa, so clearly, he's committed.

"What the hell are you lot doing?" I groan, rubbing my eyes. I barely notice the weight shifting beside me before a deep, groggy voice murmurs against my neck.

"Am I hallucinating, or are we under attack?"

Zayn.

The boys freeze.

There is one full second of silence before Louis screams dramatically, stumbling back like he's just seen a ghost.

"OH MY GOD."

"ZAYN'S HERE?" Niall howls like he's just been betrayed. "I THOUGHT THIS WAS A GIRLS-ONLY OPERATION."

"It was never a girls-only operation," Gemma corrects, completely unfazed. "But it was definitely an operation."

I groan, flopping back into the pillows. "This is a nightmare."

Liam is sipping his mimosa calmly, squinting at Zayn, who's now propped up on his elbow, his tattoos on full display as he watches the scene unfold. "Not to be rude, but... weren't you supposed to leave?"

Zayn smirks lazily. "Changed my mind."

Louis clutches his chest. "Oh my God, he's soft for you. I hate it here."

I throw a pillow at him, but it only makes him more dramatic.

"You guys are actually insane," I grumble, kicking off the sheets and standing. I'm barely wearing one of Zayn's t-shirts, and based on the way Liam is suddenly looking at the ceiling, it's not exactly modest.

Gemma claps her hands. "Alright! We've got a schedule to stick to!"

I narrow my eyes. "A schedule?"

"You bet your ass," she grins. "Breakfast is in the kitchen, you have exactly forty-five minutes to get ready, and then we are leaving."

I glance at Zayn, who's stretching in bed like he wasn't just ambushed in the most chaotic way possible.

"You knew about this, didn't you?"

He smirks, eyes dark and amused. "Maybe."

I groan, but there's no real frustration behind it. The fact that they all showed up for me like this—ridiculous, loud, over-the-top—does something strange to my heart.