| Teenage Dirtbag Z.M. |

8

It was lovely, seeing everyone at dinner. We were all laughing and talking while Zayn just sat there, mind off in some intergalactic world probably filled with playboys and versace.

"It was so great seeing all of you." I smile and wave as we walk towards Zayn car. We were going to his apartment, where we could be free to act exactly what we were- just somebodies that used to know each other.

"See you tomorrow! We pick out pretty princess dresses." Sara says, waving to me while sitting on her father's hip. I smile and blow her a kiss, which she reciprocates nine times in the duration that Zayn drives around the cul de sac and past the gates.

"I'm soooo tired." I complain, closing my eyes involuntarily. The sound of the car increasing in speed, the warm wind on my face, and the Bradford salt air as we drove on a rode directly beside of the ocean brought me peace.

"Me too, I swear five minutes with them feels like five hours."

That made my eyes snap open angrily, mouth ready to scold him. I could not believe how ungrateful he was. He has a family that loves and fights for him, yet all he does is condemn them.

I would scream and yell at him, but I don't. It could be because I'm too tired, or it could be because I simply don't care enough to correct someone incapable of changing.

He steers right abruptly, making me go forward a little. He puts the car on park and turns to me, touching my face softly with the pad of his thumb.

"Lu?" He says a little too sweetly.

"What is it?"

"Do you feel okay?"

"Kinda drowsy.. why?"

"You're.. really hot."

"You're such a flirt." I giggle, half awake half asleep. I don't know why I was so tired, but it was all consuming.

"No, I'm serious. You're burning up, and.."

"What?"

"Don't freak, but your neck is red and filled with tiny dots." He says, cold hand traveling to my neck. He observed it and brushed over it softly, pulling my hair back. I forcibly opened my eyes to see him, smiling lazily because of how concerned he looked.

"Zaynie boo, did your mum put anything new into her biryani, chicken tikka, or samosas?" I ask, touching his face with my hands to ensure he was still there. My memory almost as blurry as the eight Zayn's I saw before me. I drank too much, I guess.. or maybe she added sesame to her chicken.

"Not that I know of, you know I barely go into the kitchen."

"Zaynie I'm allergic to sesame seeds which I think your momma put somewhere and I'm as high as a kite right now because Doniya and I were doing hookah," I say, pretending to suck in air to demonstrate the act Zayn knew all too well, "and I drank a little... lot and I'm so god damn itchy." I frown, scratching at my neck before going down to my hips. I guess I didn't like my sweater just as much as Zayn didn't, because within seconds it came off. I was left in my blue lacy bra, head still pounding as I scratched my chest and neck area.

"Lucrezia, stop." He says, manhandling me back into my sweater. He turns on the ignition and I take this as an opportunity to take it back off. It was too hot in this car.

"Lucrezia put it on right now." He barks at me. Normal me would have been quiet and scared, but intoxicated me was anything but quiet and scared.

"Who are you? My daddy? You can't tell me what to do."

"Lucrezia, I dont know if you know this, but I find you insanely attractive. Even with this ugly sweater on, I have a little problem."

"What's your problem? Oh wait.. is that is down there?" I ask, pointing to his pants and laughing. "Dude you're such a not truther, that thing is anything but little."

"You're drunk and taking off your shirt, and I'm the sober one telling you to put it on although every cell in my body is telling me to bend you over this car."

"Hahah you're so funny zaynie boo." I say, putting my head on the arm rest between us, brushing my hand over his instinctively before grabbing it and putting it on my head. He followed along and brushed it softly.

"Take me home please, zaynie boo."

And he did. I fell asleep in the car and when I woke up I was in a strange bedroom, only I did not worry because I saw Zayn sleeping on the floor. I looked outside the window to see it was still dark. Coughs escaped my lips as quietly as I could. Much to my dismay, Zayn stood up quickly, taking a bucket out from under the bed and putting it towards me.

Zayn hates waking up, so it further surprised me he was even up right now.

"What's that for?" I ask, holding my face with my hands. It hurt so much, and I couldn't remember most of last night.

"You were so fucking drunk, I couldn't have you chocking on your own vomit and dying."

"You're sweet. I'm sorry I took your bed, I can get off now-"

"No, you need your rest. I'll take the couch." Zayn says, surprising me yet again with his selflessness. If only he were this kind everyday.

"No... come..with me? Please? My head hurts I just want you to hold me." I cringe at the sound of my mouth and the words coming out of it. I sounded pathetic. Yet he came anyways, and he held me tight to his chest anyways. I doze into sleep listening to the beat of his heart.