.Ch. 5
Niall's multiple failed attempts to pull me into the party scene resulted in him halfway giving up and me getting to know Harry.
It was a typical Friday night for us. Niall and Amira dancing their clothes off, literally sometimes, Effy somewhere getting completely and totally stoned, Louis drinking everything in plain sight. I wasn't a huge fan of this atmosphere. It wasn't that I was uncomfortable - for lack of better term, I was aware of everything around me at all times. I liked to be. Obviously, Harry and I were similar in this way. Usually, wherever the party was, we found a cozy, quiet place to sit. And talk. And that's all we needed to have a satisfying time.
I felt as if Niall didn't care about my presence, whether I was there or not. But then there were those times when I was in the kitchen, grabbing another 6-pack for Harry and I, and Niall would just come up behind me and smother me in kisses. His breath was faint with alcohol and his neck was sweaty, and it was the best thing I've ever felt in my life.
Niall didn't pressure me to do stuff, and this I liked. He wasn't overprotective of me and trusted me to hang around his guy friends. I trusted him and Amira as well. After all, they were my best friends.
Harry and my spot for the evening was the host's attic. It had a window with a full view of the stars, and the only thing in the room was a futon mattress and a small desk lamp. I flicked it on and the room brightened.
"So," I flopped onto the mattress next to Harry, who was cracking open the pack of good 'ol Sam Adams. He passed one to me, and I accepted gratefully, chugging the cold and curling my hands around the bottle.
"So," he retorted, flipped his mass of curls to look up at me.
"Something's up," I sensed, noticing how oddly quiet Harry was tonight compared to others spent by talking my ear off.
We sat there for a moment, downing our beers, soon reaching for another.
"It's Louis," he gave in, most likely due to the alcohol.
"What about Louis?"
"I feel like he doesn't love me anymore," Harry looked so vulnerable I had to sit up and squeeze him, hard.
"How can you say that? Louis is absolutely head over heels in love with you. There is no doubt about that. I really don't think anything could make that change," I rubbed soothing circles on Harry's back; it wasn't hard to tell he was crying.
"I just feel like- I feel like he expects more of me. What if he wants me to, like, commit? I don't know if I'm ready for that."
"Don't you love him?" I was just confused now.
"Of course I do... I'm just scared of the future, you know? We're so young."
"I know." I whispered into his neck. I understood Harry. It was sort of similar to Niall's and my situation. Did Niall want me to commit to anything? Or was this just a summer fling?
Ten minutes passed with Harry buried into my shoulder. Slowly, I eased him off, muttering something about getting more beer. The party buzzed on just below me, bass pumping in my ears. I slipped down the attic's opening in the ceiling and landed in the hallway. The kitchen was surprisingly empty, but the closet, however, wasn't.
"We can't keep doing this," an Irish-accented voice whispered. Niall? I couldn't tell. Maybe I should lay off the beer for a bit.
I shuffled around the stranger's kitchen, trying to find some beer, anything. I stood up straight after peeking into the nearly emptied fridge, and met Zayn's perplexed look.
"Hi," I finally spoke, and he looked almost afraid.
"Zayn? Yeah, earth to Zayn. What's wrong?"
"It's, um, Effy?" It came out more as a question. I found this adorable. What? Me and Zayn? Zayn and Cherry.
"Yes, what about her?" I pressed, pushing those thoughts out of my head.
"I need your help carrying her out to the truck," he gazed down at me. I never realized how much he towered over me.
"You're asking me," I said. "Out of all the strong, buff guys in this house."
"You're, like, the only sober one here!" Zayn joked. I chuckled and reluctantly agreed, following him to the guest bathroom, where Effy was... well, a mess.
She groaned, swiveling around to release puke into the toilet. Some of it missed, and I felt bad for whoever had to clean this joint.
Zayn turned his head in disgust, and I gave him a disapproving look. Making my way over to his reeking sister, I hoisted her up so she was leaning against me. Face pointed the other way, of course.
"Zayn?" He was no longer in the room. Sighing, I tried lifting Effy into a half-stand position, but to no avail. Suddenly, Zayn appeared back into the room and, with ease, picked her up bridal-style.
"Thanks, Cher. I can take it from here," he smiled at me, giving me butterflies. But I didn't get a happy vibe from him. Not a sad vibe, either. Just a odd vibe that left my stomach unsettled. Or maybe that was the puke.
On my way back up the attic, I saw an abandoned pack of god knows what on the counter. Feeling successful, I bounded up the stairs and heard voices.
"You need to stop this, whatever it is." Harry's voice flowed down the stairs and hit me. Straining to listen, I leaned forward.
"Mate, I know, alri? I'm not stupid, ill be careful about it. "
I couldn't put my finger on the voice, dammit.
"Careful," Harry repeated, scoffing. "You disgust me, I cant believe you would even think about doing anything like this. Especially to Cherry." At the sound of my nickname, I cocked my head.
"Just promise you won't say anything," the other voice pleaded, the one that was so familiar but seemed so strange to me.
"Whatever," Harry sounded bitter, like he cared but couldn't do anything about it.
Two sets of footsteps pattered down the stairs, and I ducked into a closet, trying to listen. Something had happened, Harry knew, and I was brought up.
"Why are you even doing this, mate?" Harry challenged, popping open a beer. I heard the cap hit the floor. "I thought you liked Cher."
"That's my problem," Niall. It was Niall.
"What do you mean by that?"
There was a pause as another bottle cracked open. The party was dying down, I could hear farewells being said at the door.
"Guys have needs, lad. I like Cherry, she's hot, but -" Of course, at this moment, I banged my head and missed what was being said. "- gives me what I want."
I was still utterly clueless as to what was going on, but I had an idea. I felt numb, sick, exhausted. Betrayed. I wanted to go home.
After the talking stopped, I crawled out of the small closet and with weak knees, started towards the front door.
Outside, Zayn was with Effy in the front, Louis and Harry squeezed in behind them somehow as well.
"Cherry!" Niall called, but I ignored him, determinedly walking towards the cramped front of the truck. "Where have you been?"
I clambered into the front next to Effy, huffing and rested my head in my hands. Zayn shot me worried glances the whole ride to my flat, Effy practically passed out, bouncing from Zayn's shoulder to my shoulder.
Somewhere along the ride, Zayn's palm ended up on my knee, squeezing it every so often. It was the kind of gesture that made me was to leap and just kiss him, right then. Maybe I should have.
Harry pat my shoulder before I got out of the truck, key in hand. I didn't want to face Niall. Or anyone.
Inevitably, Niall hopped down from the bed. I acted as if I hadn't heard him as I turned the lock.
"Cher? What's wrong?" Niall's voice was anxious. "Why are you ignoring me?"
"I really don't want to talk to you right now, Niall." I mustered out through a clenched jaw.
He blinked at me through seemingly confused eyes, looking hurt. Past his shoulder, Zayn was keeping a watchful eye on us. Listening.
"What did I do? Why are you being like this?"
I couldn't take it anymore. Without thinking, I slapped him. This wasn't a Cher-gesture. If it hadnt been for the alcohol, I never would've done this.
Zayn was by my side in a flash, and inside I felt triumphant.
Niall was staring at me like I was crazy, and this made me have doubts. What if I had it wrong? More importantly, why did I care? It wasn't like Niall and I were dating and he cheated on me. But we did have something, or so I thought.
"Oh," I whispered, running my hand over Niall's reddened cheek.
"Cherry," he whimpered, placing his hand over mine. "What did I do?"
That was it. Moment over. I scoffed and turned towards the open door to my flat, brushing past Zayn, who was just standing there. He looked... happy. Like he'd just scored the winning goal at a football game. Almost like... he knew.