While Zayn writes something for our assignment, I casually scroll on my phone until I notice the time. “Shit! It’s already 8 and we’re not even remotely ready!”
“I told you that it will take time,” he replies while continuing to type on the computer.
I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah, and what now? You want a standing ovation?” I tease. It was actually quite a nice day, despite the disagreements that we often had. And truthfully Zayn really isn’t that bad. Maybe that scares me even more. It scares me that parts of me enjoyed today. And that is something that can’t happen, that I can’t handle.
“No,” he shakes his head as he finishes his last sentence before looking at me. “But we do have to meet again,” he says nonchalant, as if he is not bothered by that.
“I know,” I sigh deeply.
“I’ll be going,” he announces, seemingly offended.
“Yeah,” I nod. Of fucking course he is offended: after all it’s not very nice to show someone you rather don’t want to see them again.
“Shall we meet tomorrow again? We can do some stuff tonight, then we might finish it tomorrow.”
“Yeah that’s good, thank you,” I reply somewhat ashamed for my shitty behavior.
To end today in a slightly better mood I joke: “if it was up to my mother you could come over here every day, ha!”
He faintly smiles at my last words. “Yeah she is really nice. I’ll see you tomorrow, around 9?”
“Okay. Bye,” I reply as he walks out of my room and downstairs. The polite thing to do is to follow him till the front door, but instead I slam my own door shut and fall down on my bed. My heart is beating erratically. Why? “Why?” I scream confused. Please don’t tell me you like him? That is not okay, it can’t be….
Fuck! Why is this happening? Why is everything so difficult? Zayn and I finally got on an actually human level and suddenly it seems like I have some sort of feelings for him.
I really need to go to Harry. He can always cheer me up and let me forget about everything. Tonight I hope he can let me forget about this Zayn guy.
“MUM!”
“Yeah?” she replies, the sounds seems to come from my parents’ bedroom.
I quickly run to the bedroom and open the door. I’m taken by surprise when I see my mother lying in bed, reading a book. It’s only 8; why is she already lying in bed? Normally she’s still running around the house. I want to ask her what is wrong, but for now I have other important things to do.
“Mummm?” I ask in my sweet, pleading voice. “Can I please stay over at Harry’s home tonight?” It would be so much more practical (and better to forget about Zayn) to sleep over at Harry’s house.
She chuckles. “Of course you can, I’m surprised you even asked. You practically live there in the weekends.”
I think about it for a moment and mentally slap myself. It’s Saturday! I forgot because I was too busy with Za… the project.
“Oh yeah,” I shake my head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I walk over to her and give her a kiss on her cheek. Up close I can see how exhausted she looks. How come? Shall I ask her if something is wrong?
“Have fun,” she smiles before giving me a kiss back.
I decide to ignore it for now, but I’ll talk to her later.
-----
“HAZZA!” I scream from the top of my lungs while I loudly bang on his front door. It appears that Anne and Gemma are out and Harry listens to hardcore music. Apparently very loudly because he doesn’t hear my screams and also doesn’t answer my calls.
I decide to call Emma; maybe she will answer her bloody phone.
“Hey Louuu,” Emma answers her call a little too excited.
“Hey Bitch, how’s it going?”
She laughs loudly through the phone and yells: “STOP IT!”
I quickly take the phone away from my ear. I don’t want to become deaf because of Emma’s harsh screams.
Emma coughs and laughs at the same time and I’m impatiently waiting till she can talk normal again.
“Sorry,” she explains. “It’s Michael, being a twat as usual.”
I can hear the fond in her voice as she talks about her boyfriend.
“What were you saying?” she giggles.
“I’m standing in front of Harry’s house but he doesn’t answer the doorbell or my calls.”
“Oh dear Louis, poor thing!” she says heartfelt, completely sincere. Yeah… as if.
“Anyway,” Emma adds. “Why don’t we go to Plo? Michael needs to leave anyway and I’ll ask the other guys to join us.”
It wasn’t my original plan, but nonetheless a good distraction. “Alright, I’ll text Hazza. I’m sure he will read it within an hour or so.”
“Great!” I’ll see you there. Bye Lou.”
-----
“Don’t make me beg,” Emma slurs. Niall and Emma are both already pretty wasted but they are the complete opposite of each other whenever they are wasted. Emma gets all clingy, whines about every little thing and is a friggin emotional mess. Niall on the other hand is a loud and energetic drunk guy. To be fair he is just the same as he normally is, but it’s all just a little bit more extreme. Overall Niall is just a very happy and carefree person. Or at least that is what you think when you first see him. I’ve known Niall for a few years now and I know that he has problems at home. He didn’t have the easiest childhood, mostly thanks to his mother. Sometimes I think he compensate or ignores the hard things he’s been through by being overly happily and friendly. Besides, Niall is almost always drunk, stoned or ecstatic from other drugs.
At the moment, the group (or better said Emma) is begging me to go out with them to a hardcore party. I’ve already said no because I have to work on the assignment tomorrow. I really need a few hours of sleep. And after chilling and laughing at our café for a few hours I already feel a lot better. It really helped me: I almost completely forgot about Zayn! But the fact that I still thought about him frightens me. It’s wrong. I can’t think about him: I hate him! Zayn is aggressive, stubborn and a fucking racist and he thinks the same about me. We can’t stand each other, so why do I think about him? It’s not like we could ever be together. He is a Pakistani Muslim and I’m a white gabber boy. I am a boy, a boy with a penis. I’m gay or as most people like to call me: a faggot. Zayn is straight, I’m positive. And even if he is gay, he would never like me.
“Hello, are you there?” Harry asks as he pinches my upper arm.
“Au!” I reply in shock and look up at my friends.
“Please?” Emma whines again while she looks at me with a pleading, sad pout. “Come with us.”
I shake my head. “I really have to go, I have to work on that project remember?”
“Emma, leave Louis alone. He’ll come with us the next time, right?” Liam interferes with an understanding smile.
I smile back at him and mouth a ‘thank you’. Liam knows a little bit about my situation with Zayn and I’m so grateful that he helped me. If he didn’t, I probably ended up partying till 7 in the morning.
“Yeah I promise, I’ll go along to the next party.”
“Okay, time for your beauty sleep,” Harry demands before he suddenly wraps his arms around my waist and pushes me up.
I yelp. “FUCK! What are you doing?” I ask shocked, in a high-pitched voice.
“I’m taking you to bed,” he states dead-serious.
“No way, you should go with them! Have fun!”
“Yeah Hazza, go with us! Pleaseee,” Emma pleads.
“Sorry guys, duty calls.”
“Duty calls? I’m not sick or anything!” I reply in defense.
Harry only chuckles at reaction while he, with one arm still around my waist, drags me outside. “See you later, bye!”
When we are outside I push his arm away. “What was that about?” I ask reluctant.
Harry shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah you do,” I answer stubbornly.
“Something was weird tonight,” he explains warily. “I felt distant from you and I didn’t like it.”
My heart swells from love and stings from sorrow. Harry is so incredible sweet. I realize I was a little distant and that hurts. It hurts, because I can see that it pained my best friend.
With my index finger I pull his chin up until he looks directly into my eyes. “I’m sorry if you felt like that, you know I love your right?”
He nods, still looking slightly conflicted.
As he’s about to say something I interrupt him by giving him a kiss on his mouth.
“I love you too,” he replies as we break our kiss.
“Let’s go to your place and cuddle for a bit?” I suggest.
He smiles widely. “I’d love that.”
----------
Today starts just as hectic as yesterday morning. I’m all over the place, quickly grabbing my stuff. Right now the only thing I can think of is Zayn, despite the fact that I try to push those thoughts away. Apparently some thoughts aren’t so easily to put aside or put them in a box.
I hear Harry groan beside me in his bed. “Lou, please calm down. If you really don’t want to see Zayn call him.”
I ignore Harry’s ‘wise’ words. Harry thinks I don’t want to see Zayn, but in reality I really want to see him. What a fucking disaster!
“I’m sorry Haz,” I apologize for my mad behavior on Sunday morning.
“After today I won’t have to see Zayn anymore or at least not outside of school. So from tomorrow forwards I won’t be so annoying anymore,” I reassure him. I just hope we can really finish the project today and that my words to calm Harry down are true. I hope that after today I can forget about Zayn.
“Great,” he sighs in relief. “But you owe me for hysterically running around in my room at 8 in the morning!”
“I know. Bye love,” I say in my sweetest tone before giving him a small kiss.
He rolls his eyes, but still looks at me with a fond look. “Bye Lou!”
I quickly walk away and wave at him.
I can assure you that he will go back to sleep again.
-----
Once I arrive home, I run to my room to change my clothes. Also, I fix my hair a little and clean my room (throw my stuff in the closets). This is all for Zayn for crying out loud! It’s fucking ridiculous and pathetic and quite frankly it pisses me off.
The doorbell rings but I ignore it. I know my mother or father will open the door or otherwise Thomas will jump excitedly to the door.
Did I hear the bell again? Why doesn’t anyone open?
I cast a quick glance at myself in the mirror and run downstairs.
Hastily I open the door. Zayn. Zayn in a leather jacket.
For a brief moment I can only stare at him, my mind blank.
“Hey, come in.”
Zayn faintly smiles at me and enters the house. Where is the rest? Why is my brother not whining for attention?
“Hold on, I just have to check something,” I say already slightly in panic. I quickly emerge to the living room, but there is still no sight of my parents or little brother.
Whenever my parents leave the house my mother leaves a note on the kitchen table. I walk over to the kitchen and instantly notice the little note. I grab it harshly and start to read it. They are at grandmas because she had a headache? What the hell? It’s just ridiculous…
Does it really matter Tomlinson? Yes it does! A lot actually! Now I’m alone with Zayn, fuck!
I have to ask him to leave. I can’t be alone with him in my house. I’m already so agitated.
“Are you okay?” Zayn asks me with concern in his voice.
“No of course I’m not,” I reply unfairly angry. He is trying to be nice and once more I’m a dickhead.
“Sorry,” I shake my head. “It’s nothing. Do you want something to drink?”
“Okay,” he shrugs casually.
He seems so calm and relaxed. How can he be this calm when I’m feeling so anxious? Obviously because he doesn’t feel anything for you, you stupid boy! Why would he like you? There is absolutely no reason for that. Louis Tomlinson you should be happy about that, it’s not like you can ever date him.
Zayn, with his beautiful dark eyes, stares at me, giving me chills. I can’t decide if the chills are a good or a bad thing.
I feel restless as he keeps staring at me. “Why are you looking?” I ask slightly irritated.
“It’s nothing, I just looked,” he replies calmly.
Why did he look at me like that? Can he see that I feel uncomfortable and on edge?
I want him out of my house, but we have to work on the assignment. I just have to make it through today. I can do that. I try to calm myself by replying the following words inside my head: it will be okay, today will be okay.
“Oh, and I didn’t work on our assignment last night,” he adds. “I’ve gone out with a few friends. You?”
“Me neither,” I reply. “I went to drink something with a few friends and then I stayed over at Hazza’s.”
“Hazza’s? What is that?” he asks confused.
I chuckle before I explain: “oh it’s just a nickname for Harry.”
“Harry? Is he your boyfriend?”
“No he isn’t, we just have a special bond. But why did you think I was gay?” I question.
“I just assumed,” he replies nonchalant.
It pisses me off. ‘He just assumed’. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before. Even when I wear my bomber jacket, sweatpants and my Maxxies people still assume I’m gay. I don’t know what it is, but apparently I scream gay.
“Do you have a problem with that?” I ask offended, my tone already enraged.
“No, that would be kind of hypocritical,” he mumbles softly.
“What?” I ask utterly confused.
“Never mind,” he mutters.
Still puzzled by his answer I finally grab a glass and pour him his drink. I want to ask him what he meant with that and ask him if I even heard him correctly, but I don’t want to start fighting again. We need to work on our project.
I give him his drink, which he gulps down at once.
“Do you want another drink?”
“No thank you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want another drink or something?” I ask him again since he just gulped down his previous drink in what seemed like a split second.
“I might want something,” he replies with a hint of mischief and a faint smile.
I’m startled by his answer and tone of mischief. Did I just hear that right? What did he mean by it? Is he playing some sort of sick joke? Or is he flirting?
It’s probably nothing, but my curiosity takes the upper hand. “So, what do you want then?”
He is obviously surprised by my boldness, because he doesn’t directly answer me back.
“You’ve got guts, don’t you?” he questions with a bit of amazement in his voice.
Immediately after our little teasing moment we walk upstairs.
I start my computer and he takes out his notes. It seems normal, but my mind is still racing and my body is still restless.
If I want to concentrate on our assignment I really have to listen to some music. It’s the only thing right now that can calm me down.
“Do you mind if I put some music on?” I ask Zayn mainly to be polite, since it’s my house after all and I could just do whatever I want.
“Honestly? I rather you don’t. I can’t work with hardcore music on the background. Actually, I can’t do anything with it. I think it’s really horrendous music,” he says it with a look of disgust on his face.
His face, even with a repulsive look on it, is still gorgeous as ever. His mouth, even with those unnecessary hate comments about hardcore music, is still as luscious as before.
And partly due to already feeling agitated after yesterday, I suddenly let out all my frustration. I throw out my annoyance with the fact that me made me feel like shit in front of our class, twice. My irritation because he called me a racist on several occasions, in which one time he punched me so hard and often that I ended up sick an injured at home for two weeks. My utter frustration because of the way he looks, especially in that leather jacket. And lastly I throw out my hatred for fucking with my feelings, for making me confused and angry all the time.
While I uncontrollably and incoherent shout at Zayn, he remains quite calm. That makes me even angrier.
“Why are you not screaming?” I yell at him, fists already clenched in pure anger.
“I just don’t see the point to exaggerate right now.”
“Well excuse me,” I scoff. “Normally you would do the exact same thing!”
“Maybe, but I can control myself.”
“That’s not fucking true!” I shout. I know how I can get him angry, how to push his buttons. It’s very simple. “You fucking can’t you stupid Muslim!”
All of a sudden his eyes turn completely black, he looks totally enraged. It feels like I’m suddenly standing in front of someone else.
Zayn clenches his fists as well, his torso moves up and down and he breaths loudly. If I don’t do something soon, he will punch me. I can’t let that happen, so I automatically try to defend myself even though he hasn’t done anything yet. I grab his underarm and twist it around. He yelps in pain, but with his left foot he kicks my shin harshly. I cry out loud and instantly let go of his arm.
We push, hit and kick each other. I feel the pain in my whole body, but the anger is overpowering.
As he pushes me again I fall down on the ground with a loud thump, a sharp pain spreads through my back.
Unexpectedly Zayn is now on top of me. I have no idea how he ended up there. I only know and feel that I’m extremely furious. Zayn seems furious too. He grabs both my arms and throws them on the ground. I can’t escape from his forceful grip.
I try to move my legs in attempts of revenge, but it’s no use. He has straddled my hips and is much stronger than I expected with his thin physique.
Knowing there is nothing I can do I suddenly scream out in panic: “STOP!”
My hard and panicky voice obviously affects him. He directly loses his grip on me and even slightly moves away from me.
I feel tears coming up. Tears of frustration, sadness, pain and confusion. I don’t want to cry in front of him.
“Get out of my house. NOW!” I demand harshly.
Zayn doesn’t respond. He sits, seemingly paralyzed, on the floor and stares in the distance.
I grab his shoulder to take him out of his trance. He has an extremely fast reflection, within a second he grabs my arms again and pushes me to the floor once more.
“GO AWAY!” I scream desperately. Tears swell up in my eyes and fall down on my cheeks. I can only see a blur of Zayn’s face while tears keep uncontrollably fall down my face.
I keep crying until I feel lips touching mine. An electric shock runs through my body, my veins. What on earth is going on?
Abruptly I stop crying and open my eyes to look at Zayn in utter shock. His lips are still on mine, but they don't move.
I do nothing. I don’t kiss him back, but I also don’t pull away. My arms lie unconsciously on the ground and my head feels like it’s about to explode any minute.
We have our lips sealed together, without any other movement, without any other sound than my own heart that is pounding loudly in my chest.
The kiss feels like an eternity, but in reality it’s probably only a few seconds. After that, Zayn literally storms out of my room.
Still in aftershock and amazement I keep lying on the floor. I can’t feel the pain from the fight anymore; I can only feel the touch of his lips on mine.
I start to cry again, but this time from sorrow. I regret all of this. This should have never happened. Zayn should have never kissed me.
No one can know, really nobody. They can’t know that Zayn and I kissed and they absolutely can’t know that I didn’t want it to stop.
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