No Matter What // Zayn Malik

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Olivia's POV

I didn't tell anyone about what Perrie told me. I know that's what she pretty much wanted in the first place, but I still didn't even tell Harry or Josh. Zayn was taking me home and he asked if everything was okay. I wasn't in the mood for any more pity from anyone else so I lied and said I was okay.

Pity.

My four letter word.

I hated the look of sorrow, the 'aww's and the biting of the lips when people didn't know what to say. I couldn't stand the feeling of weakness and vulnerability. The helplessness and being looked down upon made my skin crawl. I tangled my hands in my hair and lightly pulled at it, frustrated at even the thought of my greatest pet peeve.

Keeping it all inside didn't help either. Then I just wanted to break down and cry. The cycle continued. Trying to be strong, being strong for too long, then breaking down, repeat. It seemed to just destroy me mentally. Eventually it showed physically. Then came the questions.

Josh interrogated me. He went easy on me. Sometimes he'd have Ben stand behind me, holding my head in place so I could watch his mouth or hand movements. I hated it.

"Did Simon make you do anything you didn't want to?"

"Harry?"

"Liam?"

"No, no, no." I said with a long dramatic sigh. I could guilt him. Burst into fake tears and beg him to stop. I was his baby sister. I guess being vulnerable had its advantages.

"Perrie?"

I didn't hesitate and flatly said no. I knew he'd probably beat her up if I said yes. He let me go upstairs and I went and did a Skype call with my friends Chelsea and Rosie. Sometimes I read the messages underneath, but mostly I read their lips.

Chelsea had a deaf little brother so she was fluent in sign language. We were internet friends. She lived in America and had a cute southern accent that made me laugh, especially when she talked with her American slang. It annoyed the heck out of Rosie if we had a full conversation without her and used sign language.

"Hey, sweetie, how you been?" Chelsea was a little older than me and loved it. I mean, who doesn't love being older than everyone?

"Bueno." I said with a thumbs up.

"I failed my Spanish class. Was that good?"

"No, if you failed that's not good."

Chelsea and Rosie bursted out into laughter.

"No, Liv, she means like is bueno 'good'!" She said as I laughed too, though I felt like such an idiot.

"Facepalm. That was bad." I laughed again, pulling my black hair back into a quick ponytail, tightening the rubber band. I noticed my glasses on my bedside table and reached for them with a smile. I slipped them on and looked back at the camera. "Look at me, guys! I'm so hipster!"

"Yeah, I saw you at Urban Outfitters yesterday!" Rosie joked.

"Zebras are like hipster horses." Chelsea added with a firm nod. She made a duck face into the camera and gave me a thumbs up. I rolled my eyes and slipped the glasses off.

"Do all Americans do that?"

"No. Just stupid Facebook girls."

"Sounds like you then."

"Shut up. You're all prim and proper British people with your tea and scones and queens and stuff." She said, probably in a posh accent.

"British people aren't snooty!" I protested.