"Alright, well--?"
Zayn rolls his eyes. He flips on the lights on his apartment and sighs loudly. It was too late, especially for this phone call, "What, Haz?"
"You're back, yeah? You're at your place?"
"Just got in, yeah," he pauses, "why...?"
"I'm coming over," Harry says at once.
"Wait, Haz--" Zayn's exhausted and only wants to eat and pass out after a shower. "Wait, I--"
But the line is dead.
"Fuck..."
Zayn runs his hands frustratedly through his hair.
Harry was coming over.
And he shows up not much longer with an expectant smile.
"Well?" He asks. "C'mon, you've got to tell me how it was."
"I mean," Zayn shrugs as Harry follows him through his apartment. "It was cool."
"Cool?" Harry slips into a seat at the table. "No, Zayn. Times Square is cool. Yankee Stadium is cool. You just went on a vacation to Latin America. You can't tell me that was just cool."
"It was amazing, alright? God, it was..." He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, sucking the skin loudly as he stares across his kitchen. "It was really fucking amazing."
"Yeah?" Harry grins, dimples popping.
"Yeah."
"You look good. You look tan."
Zayn laughs. "Thanks, Haz."
"You look less stressed, too," he nods. "Kind of like you got some."
"Shut up, Haz."
"Oh yeah," he exclaims, "Okay, I can tell something happened," he leans towards him, "It did, didn't it?"
"I mean..."
Harry bangs his palms upon the table. "Knew it!"
"Jesus, Harry," Zayn laughs, "You're out of your mind."
"No, that was you before you ended that dry spell of yours."
"Wow. mate."
"So? What'd she look like? She's Brazilian, wasn't she? Or were there multiple girls? There were a few? Could they speak English? Did you get--?"
"Whoa, whoa," Zayn holds up his hands, "first of all, these questions are wildly specific," he chuckles, "Secondly, it was one girl, and she was American," and Zayn's mind clouds with thoughts of that bright smile and red hair. "Although it shouldn't even matter, mate. It's over. It's done."
"She was on the trip with you, or just some girl you met one night?"
"She...She was on the trip, too."
"Oh," Harry nods knowingly. "And...?"
"And what?"
"And," Harry prods, "you liked her."
"I--We were friends," he retorts.
"Were?"
"I--" Zayn can't help but frown at that disastrous flight and even more disastrous goodbye in San Diego. "Yeah. Yeah, we were friends."
"Who had sex?"
"Yeah."
"And you liked her?"
"I mean," Zayn scowls, pursing his lips, "I--What's this got to do with anything, Haz?"
"Hey, I'm just asking," Harry recoils, "'Cause you're angry and quiet like you get--"
"I'm not angry."
"Right," he rolls his eyes. "Sure."
"Look," he scrubs his face with his hands, "I'm exhausted, Harry."
"Yeah," he drums his fingers on the table. "I'll let you go, then."
"Thanks, mate."
"No problem," and Harry smiles, rising with a stretch as Zayn walks him out of his apartment.
"M'glad you had fun, yeah? Glad the trip went well."
"Thanks, Haz," Zayn replies. "I appreciate it more than you probably know."
"Hey, Zayn?"
"Yeah?"
"About this girl..."
"God, Harry--"
"Look, obviously I don't know anything, but," Harry shrugs, "seems like you care about her. And it's really not like she's still in Argentina or Peru or any of those other places you visited. She's American, Zayn. So," he claps him hard on the back, "I'm pretty sure if you really wanted her, you've got a real chance to get her."
__
It's nearly a month since Mari flew from Rio into San Diego, and already she's jumped immediately back into work.
And it's like she's still holding onto the bits of summer and vacation, because she's barely unpacked, practically living out of her suitcase for the past four weeks y'know, just in case the opportunity arose for a random trip anywhere for her to go.
"You gotta clean this shit up," says Bonnie one early morning, as she stands with her hands on her hips in the doorway of Mari's room in the apartment they share. "I can't live knowing that you live like this."
Mari sighs. "Yeah," she groans, staring at the open suitcases and strewn travel tote, "You're probably right."
And this is how Mari discovers the card.
"Thanks, best friend," Bonnie grins, watching as Mari rises from bed, falling onto the floor in front of her tote and suitcase.
"Yeah, yeah," Mari groans. She's sleepy and it's hot on this August morning.
Bonnie grins. "I'm gonna make breakfast. Want anything?"
"Be there in a sec," Marjani calls, as she grabs clothes from the suitcase, dumping them onto the floor. It was time to wash.
And she sits, pulling out clothes and sorting them for the machines in the basement of their complex, before she dumps everything in her tote onto her bed.
And a little, familiar package tumbles onto the comforter. Splaying out with her journal and trinkets and souvenirs and iPad that's probably completely dead at this point.
She picks up the small white package, that's barely longer than an envelope, and peels it open.
It's barely a package, actually. It's a postcard wrapped in tissue paper that's supporting a small beaded necklace.
The postcard is of the colorful Chateau Carreras neighborhood in Córdoba; the one that housed the stadium, and there's a short note with Marcello.s scribbled handwriting: "A journey is best measured in friends rather than miles. I'm grateful to have met you, cariño. Keep in touch xx -Marcello."
It's Marcello's gift, and all at once Mari thinks of him and she thinks of Lennon.
She really had to call Lennon.
The two of them had Skyped and FaceTime'd often, keeping their friendship alive despite the difference in state.
But, nothing was ever the same as the real thing.
And Mari grabs her phone.
There was an unanswered text from Lenn saying, text me pronto, that Mari immediately opens.
She texts her back, but only after she finds something else. It's another envelope, and it's sticking out of her iPad case, where it must've fallen after someone dropped it into her tote.
Mari grabs the card and her phone.
You busy?
And she gets an instant response: never for you BBY
The phone rings.
It's Lennon, and she's FaceTimimg, and Mari grins, snatching the phone as she follows the smell of pancakes in the kitchen.
Mari answers the call, a familiar face showing up on the screen.
"Hello, beautiful!"
"Hi, Lenn," Mari grins, and she reverses the camera, flashing Bonnie at the table, "Say hi, Bon-Bon."
"Hi, Mari's friend," she waves, before Mari leaves the kitchen and plops onto the couch.
"My girl says hi."
"Holy shit, who was that!?"
"Oh," Mari laughs happily-she seriously misses her roommate, "that's Bonnie. My bestie."
"Aside from me, of course."
"Right," Mari giggles. "Aside from you."
"Anyway," Lennon grins, "is she single? Does she want a cute little lady in her life?"
"Great question," Mari laughs. "But I don't know how fluid she's feeling today with her sexuality."
Lennon winks. "Well, tell her I can go whichever way she wants me to."
"It doesn't work that way, but damn! I fucking miss you, my little crazy!"
"Oh god, I know," she sighs, "it's like, there's not a day that goes by that I don't wish I was anywhere we visited. Colombia might've been my favorite. Remember that sunset in Bogotá?"
"Oh my god, of course," Mari sighs. "That was..." She can see the colors of the sky changing over the mountains.
She can see the colors changing in Zayn's eyes.
"That was magic."
Lennon hums, and it's as if she can read her friend's mind almost as she asks her next question.
"Hey, uh...you still ignoring Zayn?"
Mari huffs, playing with the unopened envelope still in her free hand. "I'm not ignoring him, we just haven't spoken." She refrains from telling her that he'd liked each of her most recent Instagram photos, but there was no text. No DM. No message.
Like, c'mon.
"Well," Lennon shakes her head, deciding not to push the subject further, "in other news, guess who says they're coming to the U.S. for a visit?"
"Luke? Cal? Marcello?"
"And we have a winner!" Lennon cheers. "My man's coming. He says he'll be in L.A. for something and I totally wanna go. Mari, we have to go. We have to meet him. Second vacation maybe?"
Mari nods excitedly. Maybe she didn't have to unpack anything, after all. Los Angeles was a three-ish hour drive north. Of course she'd be there.
"Down for the second vacation."
__
Zayn's about to go to bed when he finishes sending emails and deleting spam and his phone chimes.
It surprises him because it's not work related, like everything else that seemed to be consuming him in life.
It's a text.
From Lennon.
Hi friend. Remember me?
He smiles, texting her back an, Of course Lenn :)
And then his phone rings.
"Hi, Zayn."
"Lenn, hey," he says, frowning as a new email from his boss gives him more shit to do - more to worry about. "What's up?"
"Just wondering if you were free this weekend," she sings, "y'know, to maybe see Marcello in L.A..."
"Oh," Zayn sighs, "I wish, but--"
"Ugh," she groans, "don't be boring, Zayn!"
"I have work, Lennon. I can't just up and leave, love."
"But, think of me," she exclaims. "Don't you miss me?"
He chuckles. Lennon always made him laugh. "Of course, Lennon."
"Don't you miss Marcello? Don't you miss Mari?"
And at the sound of her name, he tenses. "I--"
Zayn didn't know what to do about Mari. Lately, especially. He thought he'd laid everything out in the card he'd wrote, because he knew he was much better at expressing his emotions through words on a page rather than from out of his mouth.
And there had been nothing.
Radio silence.
It pissed him off at the same time it confused him. Did she read the letter? Had she lost it? Was she still mad about how things went down in the airport?
He was so fucking confused. He wanted to call her but would she answer? Had she moved on? Vacation was over...
And he saw her on Instagram and she looked so beautiful and happy -- she looked like she always looked. She looked like she was alright...alright without him.
What really fucked him up was the fact that he missed her. Yeah, he was pissed as fuck but damn, he missed his little redhead, especially when he felt like he was drowning in work and needed...god, he just needed her to cuddle with at night.
"Of course I miss them, Lenn."
"Then you really should come, Zayn."
"You forget that New York and L.A. aren't exactly close, right?"
"I know, but..." She giggles softly, "I figured you'd make exception. At least for us."
word count: 1833
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only a couple more chapters y'all