The Worst

Chapter 56

Charlie’s POV

What the hell am I going to do?

“Zayn,” I mumble, reaching over and shaking him as I pull over to the side of the road.

“Zayn, wake up!” I state a bit louder. But he doesn’t move.

“Zayn!” I shout, punching him in the thigh. “Wake up, I’m being pulled over!”

“Huh? That’s nice,” he grumbles. I watch as he reclines the seat further back, throwing an arm over his forehead. Behind me, the lights become brighter and brighter, or maybe that’s just me. Good grief; I doubt I’ll ever be able to get a license now.

All too soon, there’s a tap on the window. I take a breath and relax before meeting the officer’s expectant gaze. He signals for me to roll down the window. “Good evening ma’am. Do you know why you’re being pulled over tonight?”

“Umm…no,” I respond timidly, breaking eye contact.

“Well, you swerved a little bit back there. Have you been drinking tonight?”

“No,” I answer quickly, knowing full well that I did have a few drinks, but I gave them plenty of time to wear off before we left the club; I made sure of it seeing as Zayn wasn’t going to be sobering up. “He needed a pacifier.”

“Who needed a pacifier?” He looks to Zayn with confusion. Seriously?

“My son,” I point to the back, the officer shining the flashlight on Marley. “It was in his diaper bag on the floor and it was hard for me to reach without looking down. So I guess the car must have swerved.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Can I see your license and registration, please?”

Shit. “Um.” I rummage through the glove compartment, which is difficult with Zayn’s legs there, but I eventually find the registration. I’m glad I have enough experience to at least know where it’s kept. The officer uses his flashlight to track my movements; from the time I reach my hand over to the time I produce the document, briefly moving from me to flash the light in Zayn’s face. “Here’s the registration. And I don’t um…I don’t have a license, sir.”

“Pardon?”

“I uh, I have a learner’s permit. This is my boyfriend’s car,” I point to Zayn, who begins to snore in the passenger seat. “He’s licensed.”

“Then why isn’t he driving?”

“He’s um…well he’s had quite a bit to drink.” My hands sweat profusely as they latch onto the steering wheel much too tightly.

The officer nods. “Well, we’re gonna have to wake him. Standard procedure. And I’ll need to see your learner’s permit. And his license, of course.”

“Oh…of course. But he’s a bit of a heavy sleeper. It’s like waking a hibernating animal, you know? Like a bear? Not that you don’t know what hibernating means, it’s just…he sleeps…like…yeah,” I awkwardly chuckle, but the officer remains poker faced, the only indication that he heard me is him batting his eyelashes.

Upon him not moving to wake Zayn, I unbuckle my seatbelt and begin to shake Zayn’s drunken body, pretty violently. “Zayn, come on, get up. The officer wants you to get up.” His eyes flutter, but he only mumbles incoherently.

“Zayn, come on. Please,” I whisper, growing tired from shaking Zayn’s dead weight body. The cop merely observes the scene.

“Zayn!” I shout after a while, startling everyone, to the point where Zayn shoots up.