Somewhere with you

New Beginnings

Sueda laughed bitterly, knowing that Loreta was right. She would certainly have to lower her standards for perfection if she was going to survive. So what if there was a planner in the middle of the floor?

...Right?

"I'm going to take a shower," Sueda announced. Moving all the furniture in the heat had negated this morning's washing, and she felt sweaty and disgusting.

"Have fun," Loreta declared off-handedly, snatching the remote from the coffee table.

As Sueda began making her way towards her bedroom, the ominous planner continued calling out to her, as if a demonic presence was haunting her. She paused beside it, considering.

"Sueda, leave it be," Loreta warned, as if Sueda were a curious two-year old eyeing a hot stove.

She breathed in heavily. Nope. She couldn't force herself to walk away. She picked it up and set it on the coffee table, lining the corner perfectly with the table's surface.

"Oh, God," Loreta groaned. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

Sueda knew she was speaking in general about the experience as a whole: college, homework, house-cleaning. And she knew the answer.

"We'll just have to compromise," she said definitively. "I'm letting it sit on the coffee table, aren't I? If I wanted to, I could have put it back in your purse. Right?"

Loreta rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Spence." Her channel surfing had subsided as she decided on re-runs of 90210. "Go shower."

"Right," Sueda reminded herself, heading once again towards her room. Once inside, she quietly shut the door. She thought distantly about how this may affect Loreta's feelings, but she knew she needed this moment of solitude and silence to soak in the transition.

Her eyes roamed the room, trying to convince her brain that this was her new home. It wasn't as though she wasn't excited to be on her own, but it was taking a certain effort to adjust. The bedroom, in truth, was perfect. Everything was set up according to Sueda's intricate blue print, and all items were in their proper places.

All except the last box she had been hesitating to unpack. In scrawl that she remembered had been written with shaky hands was "Z.J." She knew what it stood for. And try as she might to dispose of the box before her latest big adventure, she had not been able to part with it. She hadn't looked inside in months for fear of emotional upheaval, but she knew she couldn't let it go.

She slowly approached the box on her bed, tucking hair behind her ears. The urge to explore its contents was overwhelming, though she knew in her heart that it had the potential to ruin this momentous day. She gingerly sat on the immaculately-made bed beside it, running her hands over the packaging tape that kept it sealed.

Don't do it, her inner voice reprimanded. It's not the day.

Nonsense, the other voice insisted. There's nothing wrong with keeping the memories alive.

She had grown weary of the angel-and-devil dichotomy that so often haunted her brain. It made her feel like she had so little control over her own decisions.

As if to silence both voices, she began lifting the tape away and opening the box.

Inside were photographs, gifts, and other reminders of her relationship with Zayn Malik. One item in particular sat on the very top, as it was the most frequently referred-to memory. It was the letter he had written her before his departure. She remembered that day vividly

Rain was coming down in buckets. Sueda hastily threw on her jacket and shoes, cursing herself for leaving her car windows down. Had she had the faintest idea of what the ever-changing forecast had in store, she never would have been so foolish. She had admittedly been distracted, though, as Zayn had attempted to phone her as she was pulling into her driveway. With a bleeding heart, she had declined the call.

She yanked open the door to be met with a natural orchestra of pattering rain. Ducking out of the house into the ominously-darkening outside world, she splashed quickly through mud puddles and wet pavement to reach her vehicle. Thunder rumbled in the distance, as if reminding her that this should be done with haste.

She nearly slipped upon reaching her car, fumbling with the keys to unlock it.

"Sueda!"

She turned. Ashley was jogging over from across the street, donned appropriately in rain boots and a tasteful poncho. She appeared distraught.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Sueda demanded immediately, fearing the worst for Ashley's military father.

Ashley stopped in front of her, blinking away raindrops from her dark eyelashes. She paused. "Sueda..."

Sueda's heart was beginning to sink. She didn't like the tone of Ashley's voice, whatsoever.

"Sueda, he's gone." As if on cue, another thunderous crack echoed in the woods.

"What? Is it your dad?" Spencer asked worriedly.

Ashley paused once more as additional water droplets cascaded down her nose and chin.

"It's Zayn."

Sueda's stomach flip-flopped violently on the inside. "Is he okay?" she demanded, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. As she waited for a response, Ashley was protectively passing a folded note into Sueda's hands.

"He's gone to the boys, to make carrier. He left a couple hours ago."

Sueda felt her mouth dry out.

"Can...can I still catch him?" she whispered, comforted in knowing that the involuntarily-flowing tears would intermingle with the raindrops on her face, undetected.

"No," Ashley murmured sadly, shaking her head. "He's gone."

Sueda's world turned on its belly, suddenly making her insides writhe in confusion. She distantly heard her phone chirp inside her jeans pocket. She yanked it out desperately, hoping subconsciously that it was him...

"Who is it?" Ashley inquired.

Sueda sighed dejectedly, handing the phone to Ashley, who read the message aloud.

"When I told you to keep Zayn safe, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. But bravo, Sueda! Always the over-achiever! - Uncle Si."

Sueda tenderly fumbled with the letter, unsure of whether or not she wanted to unearth its contents yet again. The day that Zayn left was ironically the last message she had ever received from Simon. She wasn't sure why, but had the distinct feeling that Simon was finally satisfied that they had officially ruined her life.

With a shaky sigh, she pushed the letter deep into the box, deciding that it was not the time to re-read it. With feigned confidence, she stood and made her way to her dresser, haphazardly yanking out fresh clothes.

It was time for that shower. It would serve several purposes, but none were so appealing to Sueda as the symbolism of a fresh start.