Near to You
08
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This is how it starts. Lightning strikes the heart, goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun.
Brighter than the Sun – Colbie Caillat
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“We could have met here, you know.”
The lights on the sign caused my skin to glow a soft, yellow colour as we stood under it, peering up to see what we would be watching that evening. I was torn between the sequel to the Hunger Games and a new romantic comedy, while Zayn had seen both already.
“I wanted to see where you lived.” He glanced around, pulling his hoodie up further to conceal his face. To any passerby we must have looked like two troublesome teenagers about to hold up the ticketing booth.
“And your verdict?”
“It’s not the best,” he replied. “But not the worst either.”
“How very neutral of you to say that.” I rolled my eyes. “Even I will admit it; the dormitory is kind of a dump from the outside.”
His lips turned upward slightly and he glanced away, trying to hide it from me.
“I can’t make up my mind!” I complained.
“It’s your choice.” He shrugged and I glared up at him.
“Make it for me.”
“I want you to enjoy the movie.”
“I’ll like either, I promise.”
He squinted at the list, checking it over again. “I guess we could see the chick flick.”
I was surprised. “Really? You chose that over Mockingjay?”
“I have a tender soul,” he mocked, placing his hand by his heart. “I can appreciate romance every once and a while –once it isn’t The Notebook.”
“Well this movie isn’t in any way related to Nicholas Sparks, so you’re very lucky.”
I bounced up to the lady who had been watching us the entire time making our decision. It was particularly slow for a Friday night, but it could also be due to the fact that it was just after nine. I’d had a late tutorial for writing and couldn’t get out any sooner.
“Two tickets to The Widow, please.” I smiled brightly at her from behind the counter. She eyed me warily. Before I could pass the money through the small hole, Zayn pushed me aside gently and handed the notes over. “Honestly, Zayn, you’ll have to let me pay eventually.”
“Not going to happen.”
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms as the lady gave him our tickets.
“You two are a lovely couple,” she stated and my eyes widened of their own accord before flashing toward Zayn who appeared somewhat pleased by the misconception.
“Oh we’re not—”
“Have a nice night,” he interrupted before dragging me by my hand toward the escalators which led upward to the theatres. I gazed back at the woman in worry.
“Why would you do that?” I asked. “She’s going to get the wrong idea. What if she knew who you were? She might tell someone!”
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Never mind.” He shook his head, handing the attendant our tickets and the boy directed us to the theatre we would be sitting in. “Do you want something to eat?”
“No,” I said stubbornly. I was still upset about what had just happened and the nonchalant way he had gone about it. Zayn stopped walking and turned to face me. At that moment my stomach began to growl loudly. I had not eaten since earlier that afternoon before class, and I really was starving but I wasn’t going to back down. He would just end up buying it for me anyway.
“Come here.” He tugged me by my hand again and we approached the concession stand. “What do you want?”
I stared down at my feet sulkily, not responding. He rolled his eyes and turned to the girl behind the counter.
“One large popcorn and two bottles of water, please.”
I glanced up at him warily. We were going to share? This was starting to sound more like a date, and I had been under the impression that we had come here as friends. What if he had a different idea? No, he had explicitly stated that we were going as ‘friends’. It would be vain of me to even consider him attracted to an Average Joe like me.
He passed me the water bottle and held the popcorn and his own bottle. It was only then that I realized he had been holding my hand up until this point. I blushed slightly. Things were certainly strange tonight.
“Thank you,” I murmured, twisting the bottle around in my hands and following him into the dark theatre.
“It wasn’t a problem.” His light eyes met my own. “Honestly, Michelle, you could ask me for anything. Friends, right?”
He had tacked the last part on, almost as if it were an afterthought. I bit my lip and nodded.
He chose a row near to the back and already I could see the couples cooing over each other, some not even bothering to wait for the lights to dim and already lost in their hormones, inhibitions cast aside.
I watched one particular couple who appeared to be trying to eat each other’s face off in horror and disgust, when a bag of popcorn appeared in front of me.
“Eat.”
I took a handful and started to pop the small kernels into my mouth, glad to finally be able to put something in my empty stomach. After taking another handful I began to feel a little guilty.
“Aren’t you going to have any?”
“A little, when the movie starts.”
I nodded, cracking open the bottle of water.
“Do you want to go get something to eat after?” I did a double take, unsure that I had heard him correctly.
“What will be open then? It’ll be after eleven.”
“We could go to a Starbucks.” He smiled wryly my way and I broke into a grin and the memory of the gaggle of girls fawning over him.
“I could use a coffee.”
“Then we’ll go.”
We settled into silence as the commercials ended and the lights dimmed. Anticipation built in my gut and I did not know if it was because the movie was about to start or because of the impending coffee date afterward – but was it a date?
I shook my head. Did I want to go on a date with him?
I would admit, I had cried at the part where the husband died, and Zayn was extremely amused when the lights came up and my eyes were still a little watery.
“It wasn’t that good.”
“I know. I’m just very easily manipulated.”
“I have a hard time believing that.” He smiled down at me as we stepped off the escalator and into the lobby. It was far more crowded than it had been earlier and I was confused. What were people doing here so late at night? “Ready for coffee?”
I nodded. He had forgotten to put back on his hoodie which he had removed during the movie when we came out of the theatre and I was about to remind him when there was a sudden commotion in the lobby. The crowd surged forward slightly and there were a few bright flashes. What was going on?
Zayn’s hand wrapped around my shoulders as he threw the hoodie over my head. I was about to shake it off when he stopped me.
“Don’t,” he warned. “They might get a picture of you.”
I tensed up, immediately realizing who these people where. They were photographers, all looking for the new exclusive on Zayn Malik. Over the past few weeks I had come to forget he had one of the most well-known faces in Europe. To me, he was just another guy. Unfortunately the rest of the world thought otherwise.
“Malik! Malik, over here!”
“Smile this way for me, would you?”
“Why don’t you let us see that pretty face underneath that jacket?”
There were shouts in every direction, and I did not know which way to go between the chaos around us and the hood blocking half of my vision. Zayn’s strong arms gripped me firmly around the waist as he led me around, back to the ticketing booth, ignoring the people pushing around us.
“Is there another way out of here?” He shouted at the lady who had given us our tickets only hours ago. She stared at him with wide eyes, and for a second I was certain we’d be forced to push through the mob. After hesitation, however, she ushered us toward the door that led to the inside of the ticketing booth.
The door snapped shut between us and the paparazzi, who stuck to the window, still trying to get a picture. It looked like a scene from an apocalyptic movie.
“Thank you so much,” Zayn told the woman who waved him off.
“It was barbaric,” she replied. “Least I could do. Your poor girlfriend must be terrified.”
I knew I should have felt annoyed by this mistake, but I was too busy staring shell-shocked from under my hood at the crowd before us. It was hell. As if only noticing me now since this chaos ensued, Zayn grabbed me by my shoulders again.
“Are you alright?” I nodded, my eyes still focused behind him. He studied me, concern etching his features. “Let’s get out of here.”
I turned to follow him through the back door when I felt a tug on my hood. Someone had managed to reach through the hole where the money was pushed through and latched onto one of the sleeves. Before I could catch it, the cloth fell off and there was a flash. Zayn pushed me through the door right after, but the damage had already been done.
They’d seen me.