*Jessie's POV*
A week after Zayn and I decided to stop trying to make something out of us. This week was torture. Being right next to him almost everyday surrounded by people who knew exactly what was going on between us. The air in that room is so full of awkward that you can feel it. I keep using the last day of school as my motivation to stay strong. I will not have to deal with Zayn anymore. The problem is that deep down that motivation is also a huge discouragement.
Charlotte is driving me home from school. I need my own car, I think to myself.
"You're better off without him." She is still recovering from how Zayn and I ended. I think she says these things to convince herself more than me.
"He was a jerk," she says.
No he really was not. Just that one time...
"Yeah," I say. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out and focus on the blurry words.
1 new message
From Zayn:
I think I need to see you again.
Butterflies. I look over to Charlotte to see if she notices. She has not even looked toward me.
To Zayn:
When can we meet?
He texts back immediately saying at the library, now. I ask Charlotte to drop me off there because I "have a project."
When I arrive at the library, I go inside and search for Zayn at the tables. He is not here yet, so I sit down and wait for him. There is absolutely no one here I notice from school, which is perfect. I take out my mirror from my backpack and make sure my makeup is okay. Nothing looks completely awful.
I put away the mirror and relax in the chair. So what exactly is all of this? Zayn and I are sneaking out together one last time before we never see each other again. But it is not like Romeo and Juliet; the only ones keeping us apart are ourselves. So I guess we think that if no one knows about it, then we can pretend it did not happen? Eh.
Zayn finally walks through the library door. He walks confidently into the library in a way that makes me smile. It totally contrasts with the attitude of the room. He is wearing a white shirt and a jean jacket. His faded and torn jeans match the color. The color of his clothing conflicts with the dark brown of his hair and eyes perfectly.
I chose the table directly in front of the doors, so of course Zayn enters looking in every other direction. When he finds the one I am in, he promptly joins me at the table.
"Hey," I exhale. My feet tap the ground furiously. I bet he can hear my heart beating against my chest.
"Hey," he says in the exact tone as I did.
"So what were your plans?" I ask, trying to imagine where we could be going today.
"I thought we could just hang out at my place for a while. I wanted to take you somewhere later tonight," he says hesitantly. He bites his lip and looks up at me with a shy smile.
I could probably faint from seeing that.
"You're not going to tell me where?" I whine.
He smirks and shakes his head no.
We take the short drive. There is a car parked in the driveway, but Zayn does not mention it. I walk into the all too familiar house. The memories actually make me shiver. I maneuver down a hall and stop when I hear something from the living room.
I peek around the corner and see three girls watching a chick flick on the flat screen. They do not see me, so I figure I can escape through the kitchen.
Nope. A woman in an apron stares at me. I start to stutter something, but Zayn comes to rescue me. He runs up to the woman and kisses her on the cheek. "Hey mum."
"Hi," she says.
"This is Jessie."
She smiles. "It's nice to meet you."
I cannot say anything. Too much newness for me to handle.
Zayn walks into the living room and tells the three girls to leave. Two of them are definitely younger than him, and the other is probably around his age.
"Why?" One says.
"Because I have a friend over," Zayn mutters.
"Well we're watching a movie," the oldest says.
"Just go up to your room," another says.
"3 against 1."
Zayn sighs and faces me with anxious eyes. I giggle.
The oldest of the three swings around to me. A smile unfolds.
"Oh, it's a girl," she smirks. The others roll themselves over to see me. I give a small wave to hide my uneasiness.
"Is this that girl you talk about all of the time?" the smallest one squeaks. She looks like she could be Eve's age.
"Can you guys just move?" He pleads.
"Nope."
Zayn does not bother to argue with them anymore. He moves hastily to me and grabs my hand, leading me farther down the hallway and out of hearing distance from the girls.
"Sorry about my sisters," he tells me. He looks at our feet. We still stand remarkably close to each other. Our shoes are almost touching. "If you want to just go somewhere now, then I would understand."
He sounds so nervous. He is actually trying, really hard. Trying to make sure I am not uncomfortable. I am sure with any other girl he would be fine being forced into his room. But I say we are just friends, so he does not want to put me in a situation that would make him seem like he wants something more.
I really want to kiss him, he is so sweet. "I'm fine," I say. "We can just talk and eat or whatever." I smile with the last words.
"Okay."
So Zayn starts to walk up the staircase. I follow him up. Every detail about this house is perfect. Even the people living in it seem to match the style.
We eventually make it to his room. His spotless room. What is this sorcery? I cannot even keep my room clean.
In one swift movement Zayn takes his jacket off. He leaves it on his dresser and tosses his keys and phone down with it.
I sit on the edge of his bed. "So where are we going tonight?" I ask hoping to receive an answer this time.
"You'll see."
Unsuccessful. "So what are your sisters' names?" It's funny. We have been friends for months and I never even knew he had siblings.
"Waliyha, Safaa and Doniya." He frowns. "Sorry about them, they're sort of crazy."
Zayn sits next to me on the bed. "Tell me about it. You've met my family."
"I liked your family," he beams. "Your sister was adorable and your mum was sweet."
"And Isaac?"
"He was... interesting."
I laugh at him. Zayn's mom walks into the room with a tray of food.
"I brought you guys some snacks," she says with a wide grin.
"Awesome, food. Thank you Mrs. Malik." And I mean it. Food equals happiness.
She leaves the tray on Zayn's dresser and shuts the door on the way out. The room suddenly gets quiet. Zayn walks over to the dresser and brings the food to us.
We readjust ourselves so the food is inbetween us. I sit criss cross on the bed.
"Your mom is so nice," I say.
"Yeah," is all he says. I scan over the food on the tray. There is a bunch of healthy food that I initially skip over. But there are Oreos.
I grab three or four of them as quickly as I can. Zayn watched me as I split an Oreo in two and eat the cream and then the cookies.
"What?" I say.
He squints. "You're not normal."
I huff. "Wow."
"No stay with me." He waves his hands in the air, clearing away my last word. "For example, what is your favorite color?"
"Orange."
"See, not normal."
I roll my eyes. I did not come here to be made fun of. Which brings me back to why am I here in the first place... I shake the thought out of my head. Nevermind that, I am annoyed with Zayn.
I can tell he senses it; he reaches out and allows his hand to linger delicately on my arm. "But it's not a bad thing," he grins.
I smile back. I am not sure what to believe anymore. He makes me feel like a friend, but so much more often like more than a friend. So all I can think to do is smile back.
***********
"So where are we going again?"
"You'll find out when we get there."
I sigh. That may have been the fourth time he has told me that. We have been driving for a long time now. It is dark outside. And there are trees all around us. It feels like we are in the part of a horror movie where he pulls out a chainsaw and kills me.
"I'm not going to murder you, don't worry," he reassures me.
"I wasn't worried," I say. I was somewhat worried.
He chuckles.
As we drive, I see signs that tell me where we are headed.
"Make-out Point, Zayn?" I ask, quite astonished.
He raises his hand in defense. "It's called Lookout Point, and we are just here because it has a nice view," he says. "And if we end up making out, then that's okay too."
I roll my eyes and start to laugh, and his eyes flicker towards me. He smiles and looks back at the road.
Zayn parks in an empty dirt parking lot. He jogs to the back of the car and pulls out a basket from the trunk. A picnic under the stars, I see.
I slowly hobble out of the car and wait for Zayn to finish whatever he is doing. The air feels so fresh and so clean clean. (A/N: ok sorry i had to...) It is not very cold outside, but every now and then a breeze comes that makes me wish I brought a jacket.
I look up at the sky. The stars are breathtaking. There are no clouds, so the deep purple sky hides nothing.
Zayn comes up to me. "Are you ready?" he asks.
"Yeah."
Zayn takes my hand with his right and holds the basket in the other.
He tugs me along some narrow path through trees. Literally through the trees. I have to crouch to avoid getting caught in the branches. And it is uphill. This better be worth it.
"The view is amazing where we are going," he reassures me.
"Mmhm." I could have gotten a heads up on what to wear, though. I duck under a branch that droops over the path.
"We're almost there."
Now I understand why there were no other cars in the parking lot. No one wants to go through that trouble to see stars.
But when we reach the clearing, the path we just endured falls from my memory.
Zayn was right about the walk being worth it. A grassy hill is the first thing there, but not the first thing seen. Past the hill is the city. The lights everywhere make it look beautiful. Something you cannot see from the inside. The stars above the town and the full moon continue the light into the night sky.
I look down at Zayn who has, in that time, laid out a blanket and taken out some of the food from the basket.
I sit down on the blanket next to him and continue to take in the view. He takes out some containers that I hope hold food.
Of course they do.
And the food is perfect.
Zayn first pulls out a little fruit salad, which is okay. Then he takes out a jar of Nutella and two sandwich bags full of popcorn. For drinks, he brought lemonade.
"You know me well," I say, without hesitating to receive my food.
We eat and talk and joke around for a bit.
"I think we're having that 'is this a date' moment," I joke with him.
He laughs. "Well is it?"
"No," I say. "It is strictly a goodbye picnic... thing." I screwed that up.
"Okay," he smirks.
It is funny, the lights over the city all look like little candles. It is so pretty here. My eyes meet Zayn's, and I can see the orange from the lights reflecting off of them. Orange like candles. Like that one night with the power outage...
My eyes tear away from his. What am I doing to myself? Strictly a goodbye thing, remember?
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"N- nothing."
"I know you're lying."
"I'm a great liar."
"Liar."
I sigh.
"Tell me."
"It was nothing really." I shove a piece of pineapple in my mouth so I do not have to talk.
He shakes his head, but thankfully stops asking questions. I guess he realizes by now that making me talk can also make me cry. I think he has enough evidence of that.
"So what do you want to do after school, like longterm goals?" he asks me.
"Something that helps people. I was thinking a teacher or doctor maybe. It is all still unclear. I really would like to change lives, though." He stares at me with a small smile until I feel uncomfortable. "What about you?" I stutter out.
"I think I want to be an English teacher."
I chuckle.
"What?"
"My dad was an English teacher."
"O-oh." He entirely tenses up. Like he is afraid I will start to freak out because I mentioned my dad. Not that I have not given him reason to think that. "Um-"
"And I remember he was a huge Grammar Nazi."
He relaxes. "Really?"
"I remember when I was in third grade, he would read over my homework and make me correct any errors."
He laughs a little. Which makes me laugh a little. Which makes me want to cry.
"What?" He scoots in closer to me.
"You're just making it harder."
"What are you talking about, love?" He puts his arm around me.
"You're making it harder to forget you."
And after telling him what is bothering me, he actually smiles. Which brings in a whole new meaning to this night.
Am I that stupid? "You're purposely are doing it, too," I say as it starts to make sense to me.
He lets his arm fall off of me. My God. The response I give to the situation cannot represent how many emotions I am feeling right now. I just take a deep breath. I really do not need another pointless argument. I will let him have this ridiculous night and end it all tomorrow. Come on. It was so obvious that he planned this all. A picnic at night overlooking the city and the stars. If that does not spell out "trying" than what the hell does?
But I was tricking myself. He was not the problem. I blinded myself. But that will not stop me from blaming him.