The first thing students learn in a high school freshman biology class is that cells are the basic units of life that can degenerate and regenerate as time goes on. In the time span of about seven years, every single cell in our bodies would have been replaced with a brand new one. In the time span of about seven years, it's as if we generate a completely different body in brand new skin.
Zoe doesn't know what causes that particular memory of biology class to flicker to the forefront of her memory. Being fresh out of uni, she'd left high school behind a long, long time ago—or maybe it doesn't seem so long ago because of several memories she's tried to block from her memory. But as she drives into her small hometown for the first time in nearly five years, the first thing she thinks about is that first day in biology class and how in about two years, she'll be living in a completely new skin from that of her freshman year of high school.
In about two years, she'll have a body that he would have never touched.
Zoe hasn't seen him in five years, but she remembers the sparkle in his bright blue eyes like she's seen them just yesterday. She remembers each random placement of the splattering of freckles on his neck and she remembers the callouses lining the surface of his fingertips and she remembers how his lips were always chapped but his kisses were always soft and tender and gentle. If she's feeling tragically nostalgic enough then she'll remember the way those calloused fingers would trail across her youthful skin and the way those chapped lips would mouth sweet nothings into the crook of her neck, the thoughts so vivid that if she made the mistake of closing her eyes she'll feel as if he's still there with her. And the memories are so clear in her head that she'll find herself wishing for them to be reality.
But it's always too much to ask for. Because when she opens her eyes she's back in her New York City loft apartment with her shitty air conditioning, not back in her childhood bed with the only boy she ever truly loved. And besides, a reality where the two of them ended up together would be too good to be true.
She's jerked back to reality when she nearly drives right past a red light, the truck shooting past the intersection blaring its horn to get her to pay attention. And despite the fact that she bypasses what could've possibly been a major car accident, she still drives to her dad's place in a daze, too caught up in the wave of nostalgia that's beating against her bones to focus on the street names she's zipping past.
It's not until she turns into the driveway where she and him used to play hopscotch in their younger years that she realizes that her throat is threatening to close up because the memories are rolling back like tsunami waves. She can still hear the way he laughed when she'd always trip over her laces during a run and she can still see the tufts of his blonde hair peeking out of her window whenever he snuck in to watch films because he couldn't sleep.
Zoe's eyes inadvertently flit over to the neighbor's house, to the window of what was his childhood bedroom, and she wonders whether he still lives with his parents or not.
Maybe it won't be too long until she finds out.
~
Nothing about Zoe's small town has changed.
Or at least it appears as if nothing's changed as she walks into Miss America, the diner where much of Washington High spent their free time. The first thought she has as she steps through the door is that it smells exactly the same as she'd left it, like burgers, fries, and an odd hint of cinnamon. Nostalgia is hitting her like a wave again, and it gets worse when the friends she's agreed to meet up with a few days before the reunion spot her and erupt into a series of excited greetings with twinkles in their eyes. Zoe feels guilty that she can't find it in herself to be as enthusiastic to see them as they are to see her.
It's not that she hasn't missed them—because she has, missed the simple moments of happiness and youthful freedom they shared before everything crashed over their heads and they had to grow up and move on—it's just that being back here in her small hometown is leaving her on edge.
Nothing good ever comes from revisiting the past.
"Zoe, oh my gosh!" comes Jade's voice as she ushers her over to the table. When Zoe's close enough, she rises from her seat to engulf her in a tight embrace, and when Perrie, Jesy, and Leigh-Ann follow suit and envelop her in a group hug, the wall she's put up comes crashing down to her feet and she returns the hug with just as much enthusiasm. "It's been so long!" is what Jade says when they all pull away.
Beside her, Jesy laughs, reaching out to run her fingers through Zoe's sleek ponytail before she throws her arm over her shoulders and leads her to a seat at their table. "You look exactly the same, Zo. Did you even age?" Zoe simply rolls her eyes in response, tossing a clean napkin at Jesy, and the gesture is so natural that it almost startles her. She can tell the girls are trying to find the flow they all had five years ago, and when Leigh-Ann starts hysterically laughing and tosses the cherry from the top of her milkshake at Perrie's face, Zoe finds herself laughing along as well, and soon enough, their entire table erupts into a roar of laughter.
She thinks they've just found their flow.
~
Zoe is on her third milkshake when she sees him.
The blond of his hair and the build of his shoulders are still unmistakable, even if she hasn't seen him in five years. He's at the counter making conversation with Bradley, the owner of Miss America, and she can see his shoulders shaking with a laugh, even from her seat. She immediately hates herself afterwards because even though she can't hear it with the resounding noise in the diner, she thinks: I really miss that laugh.
"Niall!" screeches Jade, and Zoe looks up with wide, petrified eyes only to see her waving him over. "Hi!"
She can't help the gasp that works its way through her throat, causing her to choke on the sip of the milkshake she's just taken. "Jade!" she hisses, and the atmosphere immediately stills. A multitude of cautious looks get thrown around the table, and Jade's eyes go impossibly wide once she's realized that she's unknowingly brought up the huge elephant in the room.
She's about to start apologizing when Niall approaches, dawning his megawatt smile and his bright, twinkling stars for eyes and Zoe feels like hurling the minute she really gets a good look at him. "Hi girls!" he greets, and he sounds so happy and confident and like Niall that Zoe starts panicking, her mind running wild with different ways to get out of this situation, and since she can't exactly melt into a puddle or run out of the nearest exit, there really is nothing she can do to escape this fateful meeting with the very person she was trying to avoid. Like he can hear everything she's thinking, Niall looks over with curious eyes, the bright blue darkening the slightest bit once the realization sets in.
It's a bit awkward for a few moments, and no one really knows what to do except give him the time to process what exactly is going on. The moment he snaps back to reality is the moment Zoe's been dreading about this whole trip, because she can see every wave of anger rippling through him with a flash of something else she can't quite comprehend flickering in his eyes. "You?" is what comes out of his mouth, and he spits out the word like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth, voice dripping with revulsion.
Zoe immediately grimaces. She doesn't know what to do or what to say so she settles for a nervous, pitchy chuckle that makes her flinch even more. "Uhm," she draws out, goosebumps rippling up her arms, "hi?"
She can tell he's trying to keep his cool and hold it together, but even she can't miss the way his lips curl slightly in distaste. He's glaring at her now and she has to wrap her arms over her stomach, partly out of self-consciousness, but also because she feels sick. "That's it?" Zoe thinks he's about two seconds away from sneering because she can see how the muscles in his face tense as he tries to keep his cool. "Five years of no contact and that's all you can say to me?"
He looks slightly hurt, and Zoe really feels sick now. Because while she did expect anger from him, she didn't think he'd give her this wounded look too. She tries to swallow through what feels like a baseball in her throat but feels like she's swallowed her tongue instead. "I-I—"
Niall interrupts with a scoff, holding a hand up to cut her off, and she feels the blood starting to flood her face in mortification. He rolls his eyes, jaw clenching with the effort to stay calm, and he turns his gaze past her and towards the rest of the girls. "Nice to see you guys," he says with a small smile, tone significantly sweeter than a few moments before.
He leans over each of them to give them a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, and by the time he gets to Leigh-Ann, he has to lean over Zoe to get to her. As he's pulling away, his wrist knocks over Zoe's half-full milkshake and it goes splashing all over her lap, a mortified screech leaving her lips as the cold seeps through her clothes. There's a collective gasp from all of the girls, but Niall looks unfazed.
"Sorry," he says dryly, reaching across the table for a napkin, "my mistake." He holds the napkin in front of Zoe's face and leans in, and she's still having a hard time swallowing when she catches a good look into his eyes. She feels like she might faint. "At least I know how to apologize," he says lowly, tossing the napkin onto her lap before straightening up, waving goodbye to the girls, and stalking out of the diner without a second glance.
The girls are looking at her with horrified expressions, and Zoe has to take a moment to collect herself before trying to process what just happened. "Well," she starts, dabbing on the stain of her trousers with a few more napkins, shrugging. She stalls by slowly cleaning up the mess on her lap, but she knows she'd have to actually wash it off for anything to make a difference.
"Well what?" Leigh asks, and she looks a bit scared for Zoe.
Zoe sighs, giving all of them a guilty look. The next set of words that leave her mouth are actually quite sad. "That actually went better than I expected."
~
There's a crack in the blinds, sunlight streaming in at the perfect angle to hit Zoe's goddamn eyes.
She groans, rolling over onto her stomach and tugging on her blanket until it's completely covering her head. She finds herself nuzzling into her pillow. It smells like lavender, vodka, and regret, and the scent has her thinking of the excruciating pain in her temples and how she maybe shouldn't have raided her dad's liquor cabinet last night.
The memory of her impromptu drinking session has her remembering the striking blue of Niall's eyes and the hurt reflected in them. She would've taken his screaming and tossing things around. Hell, she would've accepted it if he poured her milkshake over her head instead of all over her lap, because she deserved that. Niall being angry with her was better than Niall being in distress.
She never meant to hurt him.
She doesn't get to dwell too much on the thoughts because she hears her dad dropping something from where he's probably trying to prepare something in the kitchen. Her eyes flutter shut for a few more moments before the clamor starts up again and she turns her head to muffle her groan into her pillow. She takes her time in getting up, careful not to make any sudden movements that'll trigger the handover-induced headache she knows is coming.
The thought must've entered her mind a bit too soon, because as soon as she sits up, a wave of nausea hits her and she's tripping her way to the bathroom. She barely makes it before she starts emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
This is shaping up to be an interesting trip, she thinks as she reaches for a towel only for another wave of nausea to hit.
~
By the time she manages to get herself together and make herself look at least somewhat presentable, her dad is waiting for her outside her bedroom with some aspirin and a bottle of water, wordlessly passing the items over to her and giving her an awkward pat on the shoulder. He hasn't said much to her since she arrived two nights ago. She tries to ignore the disappointment in his eyes when she swallows down the pills.
As she follows him into the kitchen, she's surprised to see that they're not the only two people in the house. A petite woman is sitting on one of the chairs near the kitchen table flipping through her dad's cookbook and sipping on a cup of coffee. Despite the fact that Zoe can only see the back of her, it doesn't take much for her to recognize the woman she knew so well.
"Maura?" Zoe croaks, throat still dry from revisiting last night's vodka.
Maura turns around at the sound of her voice, blue eyes—much like her son's—lighting up at the pitiful sight of the girl who broke her son's heart. Zoe's fingers clench around the plastic bottle her dad had shoved into her hands a few moments before, and she wishes he told her that they had a guest so she could've at least dabbed some concealer beneath her eyes. "Zo!" Maura greets with open arms, engulfing her into a tight embrace once she gets close enough, and Zoe doesn't have to think twice about returning it with just as much enthusiasm. "It's been so long, sweetheart," she says with a fond glint in her eyes, fingers reaching up to brush back some of Zoe's flyaways. She wonders if Maura is aware of the fact that her son spilled half of a milkshake into her lap last night. "You look exactly the same, my love."
Zoe huffs out a chuckle. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot." Maura was always the mother figure in Zoe's life, and she feels her eyes welling up at the sight of all the motherly love in her eyes. It's so intense that she has to pull Maura in for another embrace so she doesn't see her blinking the moisture back. "I've missed you," she confesses, burying her head into the crook of Maura's neck, and Maura strokes the back of her head soothingly, something akin to a coo leaving her lips.
But if Maura was anything it was goofy and easygoing, so Zoe should've expected the playful smack she received to the back of her shoulder once they part. "Like hell you did," Maura teases, and it's only then that Zoe realizes her dad was watching the whole exchange from the kitchen table this whole time. "Not one phone call was received from you in all these years. We have words to exchange, my dear." Zoe frowns at her but even Maura can see the guilt in her eyes. "C'mon, sweetheart," Maura says, tone softening. "Let's go over to my place. We have a lot of catching up to do."
At her words, Zoe feels her stomach churning again. The last person she wants to see right now is Niall. She tries to protest but Maura is having none of it. Her own father even goes as far as to gently shove her out the back door, and when she looks back with wide, pleading eyes, he simply smiles at her and waves her off.
Zoe thinks everyone in this town might be conspiring against her.
~
Zoe forgot how much Maura can talk.
She manages to fill Zoe in on most of the things that happened in the town—which, admittedly, weren't many—in one sitting. Three cups of tea and a hearty sandwich later, Maura's phone starts to ring, and Zoe wonders if she ever gets tired of talking. She chats with the person on the other line for a few minutes before excusing herself to go upstairs with the explanation of, "Need to give Mrs. Patel a number for a catering restaurant," and Zoe smiles, thinking that she doesn't need to give explanations in her own house. And certainly not to Zoe.
She finishes up the sandwich that Maura prepared for her before gathering the dishes and placing them in the sink. Since she's already standing she decides that she might as well wash them and save Maura the headache of cleaning up after her. Besides, doing the dishes was always a mindless chore that she quite enjoyed. It was something she didn't have to think too much about, which she's glad for in that moment because there are too many thoughts running rampant in her mind that she has to sort through before she ends up going crazy.
"What the fuck are you doing in my house?" comes a voice when she only has two mugs left and she immediately freezes. Niall's voice sends a shudder through her, like someone's dumped a whole bucket of ice water down her spine without any warning, and suddenly, there's a lump in her throat that she can't swallow through.
He's beside her in an instant, hands moving to turn the faucet off as Zoe flinches out of her skin before she turns around to face him, eyes wide and hands shaking. "I-I—" she stammers, thinking: holy shit, I'm going to die today, because Niall might as well be holding up a gun to her head with the absolutely menacing look he's giving her.
"What. Are you doing. In my house," he repeats, a growl working its way up his throat but not fully escaping the confines of his mouth.
Zoe's about two seconds away from hyperventilating. "M-Maura invited me over f-for lunch," she tries to get out, body sinking into the kitchen counter. She distantly hopes it'll swallow her alive. "I'm s-sorry."
Before Niall is able to get another word out, Maura is coming down the stairs, still talking on the phone, and Niall takes two huge steps away from her before Maura rounds the corner into the kitchen. "Niall, you're early," she gets out as she wraps up her phone call. "There's a sandwich for you in the microwave, darling. Are you and Zoe going out later to meet all your friends?" She's distracted, typing away on her phone, but Zoe and Niall are rooted to their spots, frozen. "Oh! Your reunion is tonight, isn't it!" she exclaims, not waiting for a response before continuing. "Zoe, love, you can ride with Niall tonight then. Car rides are always good for catching up aren't they!"
Zoe feels her heart rising up into her throat at Maura's words. She doesn't have to look at Niall to know he's glaring at her—because Maura is too distracted with whatever is on her phone to notice—and she finds herself wishing it were possible for the ground to swallow her whole. Maura scurries into the living room in search of something and Zoe finds herself asking in a hushed voice, "Doesn't she know?"
Niall rolls his eyes at her and shrugs off his jacket, draping it over one of the kitchen chairs. "Of course she knows. She's my mom." And Zoe catches the intonation behind his words immediately, the guilt crashing against her bones again. Out of instinct, she reaches for the microwave handle to give him his sandwich, like she's had a memory of this happening many times before. Maura used to leave Niall's dinner in the microwave more often than not for him to eat when he came home from baseball practice, and Zoe was always there to hand it to him, and he'd always take it with a smile and a peck to her hairline. But the outcome is different when she tries to do it now. "Don't touch it," he barks, reaching for the plate himself, and Zoe snatches her hand away at the irritation in his voice.
"I'm sorry," she says quickly, but Niall just ignores her and takes a seat at the kitchen table. He takes a huge bite out of his sandwich and groans in delight as he chews it down, and she wonders what he's been up to all day. She wonders where he stays now and what he does. There are a thousand and one questions buzzing through her mind to ask him: do you still play guitar, do you still wear those cute glasses when you're watching tv, do you still read a new book every week, do you have a girlfriend?
"You look like shit." Niall's voice breaks through her buzz of thoughts, but when she looks up at him, he's still eating his sandwich. She isn't prepared when his icy cold gaze meets hers. There isn't a storm brewing around his pupils anymore, but those blue eyes aren't the same as the bright and lovely color she's so used to seeing. "Still can't hold your liquor well, can you."
At the mention of liquor, Zoe's mind short-circuits to last night's bottle of vodka and how revolting it tasted when it came back up this morning. "I guess not," she mumbles, wondering if there are still dark circles under her eyes. She's unsure of how to go about him now, doesn't know if she should even be talking to him right now. She wants to apologize for being the reason why he's acting so hostile towards her but she doesn't think she's deserving to even be in his presence right now. But the next words leave her mouth without her thinking about it. "Maybe if I hadn't opted for something so strong it wouldn't have tasted so bad coming up the next morning."
She doesn't know why she half expects Niall to banter along with her, but when she looks up at him, he only gives her a wry look. "Didn't ask for details."
"Sorry," she says immediately. She has a feeling she'll be saying that a lot on this trip.
Before either of them can even think to say something else, Maura is scurrying into the kitchen again, phone still pressed to her ears as she shuffles through the stack of papers on the table. "Zoe, darling," she says a bit distractedly, "thank you for washing up, my love."
Zoe simply smiles in response, but when she looks at Niall, he's rolling his eyes again. "Go get ready," he says dryly when Maura's out of earshot again. "We leave in a few hours." He purses his lips together and glares at the door his mom just exited like he knows he can't argue with her on this.
Regardless, Zoe doesn't have to be told twice before she's tripping out of the kitchen door.
~
Zoe takes her time in getting ready.
She decides to wear a black jumpsuit paired a gold belt and black, peep-toed flats. She pulls her hair up into a sleek ponytail and dusts some blush over her cheeks to give her some more life. It almost looks like she's attending a funeral rather than a high school reunion, so she coats her lips with some bright red lipstick to make up for it.
After aimlessly wandering around her bedroom and fiddling with her phone for about an hour, she decides that she should probably head on over to Niall's. It's almost strange how they ultimately ended up seeing each other. Even though Zoe knew it was inevitable, there's a thought nudging at her that's screaming fate over and over again until she has to take deep breaths to make it stop.
It's almost like she's been sleepwalking because before she knows it, she's entering Niall's house through the kitchen door in the back. She knows now why she never came back. Not only does she feel guilty, but everything about this house, and this town in general, is so nostalgic, and she feels like by leaving the way she did, she let everyone she loved down.
"Niall's in his room, love," comes Maura's voice from where she's now sitting by the kitchen table, glasses perched on her nose and book in her hand. She ushers Zoe up the stairs, ignoring her protests, and before Zoe knows it she's standing in front of the door to the room she knew so well.
Nothing in his room has changed. The sports medals are still hung on the same wall and the colors of his dream college are still hanging proudly over his bed. He has a pile of photos still laying around, some put away in albums, some displayed on his photo board, and some put carefully in pretty frames. She's in one of them, she notices. If a stranger were looking at it, it wouldn't have been obvious, but Zoe knows that it's her hands wrapped around a laughing Niall's arm in the shot, her head buried in the curve of his shoulder as her hair falls over her face in a curtain. It was from someone's house party, the two of them standing on the dance floor in the middle of the crowd, and she doesn't know why Niall's kept this one up when it seems as if he's tried to erase every hint of her existence from this room, but deep inside she's glad he did.
She finds herself trailing her fingers around the perimeter of the plain black frame, a wave of nostalgia hitting her so hard it's almost as if she gets knocked off her feet for a few seconds. She feels the pang of it in her chest, a gaping empty feeling. And unlike many empty feelings she's had in the past, this one doesn't threaten to swallow her whole and throw her into a draining black hole, but instead, it just sits there, the aftershocks radiating into her system until it's just a hole where all of her fondest memories once lay.
She turns around only to see Niall standing in front of his mirror, fiddling around with the tie hanging lopsided around his neck. She's both surprised and relieved he hasn't started barking at her to leave his room yet, though she suspects it's because he heard his mom telling her it was okay to go inside. His face is hilariously scrunched up in concentration and Zoe has to bite back the giggle threatening to bubble from her lips. She knows that Niall will probably never forgive her for what happened five years ago, but it's the familiarity of the sight that has her feet shuffling towards him, and she knows he feels the pull of their connection too because he turns around without her having to touch him.
It's muscle memory, fixing his tie for him as his hands drop to his sides. He doesn't look at her as she does it though, his steely expression staring straight ahead, right at his wall of photos. And Zoe smiles because this is so Niall, because he still smells the same and he still keeps the same habits, such as never learning how to tie a tie. Because he values memories just like he values living in the moment. Because he still knows how to hold a grudge and because, once upon a time, Zoe meant everything to him and she just broke his heart, but he's still here and he's still allowing her to fix his tie because that's just something she's always done.
Because Zoe is strong enough to admit that Niall Horan, and everything that makes up his persona, is home.
"Are you planning on doing something with your hair?" she asks quietly, the silence taking over his bedroom not even the slightest bit uncomfortable. She reaches up to fiddle with his fringe—again, muscle memory—but immediately pulls back when the gesture makes him flinch. She sighs. "I'm sorry." Because he may have let her tie his tie but. It's not her place anymore.
Silence lingers between the two of them before Niall gets tired of staring at his feet and looks up at her instead. "I, erm. I was gonna do it up, y'know," he gestures around his head in order to imitate what Zoe presumes to be a quiff, "do it up like I used to."
Zoe fights back a smile again and busies herself with twisting her rings so she wouldn't do something stupid and impulsive again, like reaching out to trail her fingers over the familiarity of his skin. She can't say that she likes unsure Niall any more than angry Niall, but she can definitely say that she al least wants to see a glimpse of her old Niall once more. The empty ache is back, because she was always the one to do his hair after he used to complain that his mom always tried to comb it over and it made him look too old fashioned. She holds back the 'Do you know how?' that's sitting on the tip of her tongue because they don't do that anymore, they don't banter like they used to. "Do you want me to help?" she asks instead, because that seems like a safer choice of words.
Something glimmers in Niall's wide and honest eyes, but she can't quite catch just what it is because it's gone just as she blinks. "Um," he croaks, running his fingers through his freshly bleached hair in what Zoe knows is self-consciousness. "Sure. I guess."
And Zoe doesn't have to think twice about it because she already has Niall sat on his bed as she pulls out the necessary products to style his hair the way he wants. Niall fiddles with his fingers as she works, massaging a moisturizing serum into his scalp—because god knows, even after all these years, he still doesn't take care of his hair the way he's supposed to—before going in with any harsh product.
It isn't supposed to take as long as Zoe makes it, but she decides to milk the moment for what it's worth because this might be the last time Niall brings himself to let her this close to him. So she takes her time when smoothing her fingers over his blond strands and massages the product into the hair a bit more than what's necessary because the familiarity of him is what's pulling her in and she doesn't know how to make it stop.
"Okay," she says quietly when she's done, steps out of his way so he can glance at himself in the mirror. There's a good distance between them as she stands behind him, staring at both of their reflections in the mirror, and the only thing she can think about is how much five years has actually aged them, how far apart time has pushed them. Zoe's never really tried to look back on a lot, but she finds that this is something she regrets, something that has guilt washing over her limbs and remorse flooding her veins.
Regrets that she let Niall go.
Regrets that she played with the chastity of their friendship just because she was thinking about herself.
Regrets that she hurt him.
"I'm sorry," is what she wants to say, and it's right there, lying on the tip of her tongue, but Niall meets her eyes in the mirror and she thinks he can see it, his shoulders becoming less tensed as he heaves a deep sigh from his nose.
"We should go," he says, eyes flitting away from her. He turns around instead, eyes blank as he shoves his hands in his pockets to feel for his keys and wallet, and Zoe hates that they've come to this, that they've resorted to formalities and indifferent looks just to communicate. "Before my mom sees us," he picks up from where he trailed off, and she agrees with that a little, knows that Maura will get emotional if she sees the two of them together like this again.
Niall tugs his blazer off the hanger that's resting on the knob of his closet, but he must've forgotten how temperamental his wardrobe actually is because he ends up pulling too hard and then it comes tipping over, the cardboard box lying on top tumbling down to the floor and narrowly missing Niall's head in the process. He swears under his breath as he pushes the closet upright again and Zoe has a distant memory of him complaining about how he ended up with the room that didn't have a built-in closet and she smiles.
She bends down to help him clean up the mess of items now scattered across the floor. They're all old things, concert ticket stubs and more photos and other small items that only Niall would keep. Zoe laughs at one of them, a broken pair of wayfarer sunglasses that could probably still be salvageable if either of them cared about it. "I remember these," she giggles, holding the broken glasses up for Niall to see. "These were mine and you broke them. And I was going to throw them away but you said you can fix them but then I never got them back."
She tries to catch herself but she can't stop giggling, tries to remind herself that they don't do this anymore, but the memories and proximity of Niall aren't allowing her to stop. He scoffs, surprising her, and she looks up to see him biting back a smile as he continues to shove items back into the box. "Well now you know where they are," is what he replies with, and Zoe's so taken aback by the fact that he actually spoke back to her that she laughs even harder.
She tosses the broken sunglasses into the box as she finally manages to suppress her laughter, continuing to clean the mess of objects on the floor until her finger close around a small, black velvet box. Something stops her from tossing it into the cardboard box, and she finds herself looking at it in interest because it looks like something that would hold a piece of jewelry, looks too expensive to be lying in a box of forgotten memories.
Her fingers seem to have a mind of their own as she flips the top open, revealing a very expensive looking ring sitting inside. It's beautiful though, she thinks as she allows her eyes to run over the large yellow sapphire in the middle of the intricate loops of diamonds. "Wow," she breathes out loud. "Who's is this?"
She plucks it out of the box to hold it up to the light, watching as the stones glimmer with the overhead glow. She's never seen anything like it. It's uniquely simple and yet undeniably extravagant, the pop of color distantly reminding her of the gold flecks in Niall's eyes. It's the thought that has her breath leaving her in a whoosh, heart stopping for a few moments as she realizes that it's an engagement ring.
"It was for you," Niall whispers just as she turns it over so the light can catch on the engraving on the inside. She feels all of the color draining from her face as her eyes skim over what's written on the inside. Love you like crazy, it reads in intricate and meticulous writing along the band, both of their initials engraved on the bit behind the stone.
Zoe can't do anything but stare at it in shock, all of her limbs frozen in place as the weight of the realization of just how much she actually hurt him settles over her shoulders. Something akin to anger starts to flood her bloodstream, anger towards herself for being so cruel, for being so caught up with her dreams that she failed to pay attention to those who loved her, anger towards Niall for not hating her as much as she probably hates herself at the moment, anger towards her ambition for a dream that ended up not working out in the end.
She understands now why she thought of him so much in the days leading up to her trip here, understands why he ignored her calls and blocked her number when she first moved away without informing them, understands that even though he had every right to despise her that he still let her back into his life.
She can feel Niall watching her but she doesn't dare meet his gaze, knows that if she does then she won't be able to hold back the tears that are threatening to brim along her waterline. He simply plucks the ring from her fingers and positions it back into its velvet box, placing it in his cardboard box of forgotten memories so he can lift it back to the top of his closet.
"We should go," he repeats when he shrugs his blazer on and tucks his hands back into his pockets. Zoe's still on the floor, unable to get enough of a grip on her thoughts to pull herself together and rise to her feet. Regardless of how much she's wronged him, Niall still notices, reluctantly holding his hand out for her to take, and all Zoe can think about is how much she doesn't deserve it. She doesn't deserve his hand or his kindness or being here in his room. She doesn't deserve anything anymore.
She takes his hand, though, allows him to pull her up to her feet before he immediately withdraws his hand to shove it back into his pocket, and she realizes that it's the first time he's touched her since they've seen each other again. Those five years have restarted back to zero and now she'll have to wait seven years to have a body that he would have never touched. The realization knocks the breath out of her lungs for a moment because she doesn't want a body that Niall never touched. "Let's go," she croaks, leading the way out with her arms crossed and her head dipped low as she keeps her eyes on her feet.
They manage to sneak past Niall's mom on the way out; Zoe knew neither of them were in the state of mind to see her get all teary eyed at their own personal reunion as they prepare to go to their high school one. The crisp air feels nice against her heated face as it cools away the urge to cry. It smells of rain and regret tonight, and Zoe hates that the scent is overwhelmingly recognizable.
Niall still opens the door to the passenger side for her, still drives with his seat reclined and with his window open halfway, still hums along with all of the songs that play on the radio and Zoe hates him for all of it. The familiarity of it has her throat closing up, like she's being strangled just by memories and remorse. Every single memory she has of this town has Niall written all over it. It's in the diner where they spent most of their days and in the tiny expanse of land between their homes where they would sneak across to climb into one of their windows and in this intersection where they're stopped at the red light, the one that's always deserted and sometimes if it was late enough and they were too desperate to wait Niall would shift the gear into park and lean over the center console to press his warm lips to hers.
She doesn't realize when they've pulled into the lot adjacent to the restaurant until the music stops and Niall clicks the locks open and they're just sitting there in the silence. And it's deafening—the quiet—like there's too much space for their thoughts to wander until it becomes maddening.
"I'm sorry," is what comes out of her mouth when she sees Niall reaching for his door from her peripheral. He freezes, hand stuck in midair as the weight of her words settle in before he sighs and relaxes in his seat again. She knows he's waiting for her to continue, can probably feel that there are so many words hanging on the tip of her tongue, but she can't bring herself to look at him, instead staring at the warning label on the visor. "I—" she tries with a shaky breath, swallowing over the lump in her throat. "I never meant to hurt you."
"But you did," is what he responds with, and it's not exactly bitter, just brutally honest in a way that cuts through her skin.
"I know." It's only then that she turns to properly look at him, finding his defeated eyes looking straight ahead. "And," she sighs, "I know you might never forgive me because I truly don't deserve it. But I just want you to know that I loved you way too much to hurt you on purpose."
Niall is silent for a long moment. Zoe holds her breath through it all, her heart rising up to her throat, and she's only able to swallow it down when he finally looks over at her. It's then that she finds that glimmer in his deep blue eyes that she's been longing to see, and it's faint, but it still means something because it's the most emotion she's seen in his face since she's gotten here. "Like crazy?" he asks, and his voice is quiet and soft with a hint of sweetness, and it reminds her so much of the old Niall, of her Niall, that this time, she can't help the tears that brim her eyes and the quiver of her lips.
She coughs out a laugh and reaches for his hand that's resting on the gear shift to give it a squeeze, his skin warm and soft and familiar under hers. "Like crazy."
He turns his hand around so he can give hers a squeeze too, a small smile curving along his lips. He parked just under streetlight, the glow of it catching along his blond tips and the only thought running through Zoe's head is I still love you like crazy. She'll never be able to bring herself to say it out loud though. She lost that privilege when she left five years ago. "You know," he starts, tone the most easy-going she's heard in a while. This is actually the most conversation they've made since they've both gotten back home, and Zoe has to compose herself before she starts full-on sobbing from just how overwhelming it is. He lets go of her hand just so he can reach over to wipe at the traitorous tears that's managed to trail down her face. "I've never really seen you cry before."
Zoe huffs out a laugh and reaches up to wipe away the remainder of the moisture. "Yeah, well," she turns away from him then, because it's like his observation was enough to crack her, a surge of emotion rising to the surface of her skin and threatening to escape her throat in sobs, "I can't really remember the last time I cried." It's a lie. She remembers crying every night of one particularly terrible week in January, the new year bringing on a bitter slew of memories and realizations, the week she recognized just how much she fucked up. This time, she can't stop the sob that works its way out of her mouth and she has to clench her eyes shut as she throws her head back against the headrest. "I'm sorry," she croaks again, her hands coming up to cover her face to stop herself from being embarrassing. "I can't stop."
And it's painful. Being here with him hurts and remembering everything hurts and being met with the awareness of the fact that she hurt him and her dad and herself hurts. All over something that wasn't even worth it.
She finds herself reaching for the door, pushing it open to step into the now frigid night air. She braves the cold as it smacks her across her face, chilling the streaks of tears trailing down her cheeks until she reaches up to swipe them away.
"Zo!" Niall calls from behind her as she hears his door slam shut. Her feet are propelling her forward but she knows she can't show up to meet all of their old classmates in the state she's in, so she changes her direction until she's walking to towards the back wall of the restaurant to place her hands against the cool brick exterior. Maybe it'll ground her, maybe the coolness of it will calm her down a bit. Rationally, it should, but instead, it just makes her more upset, and she finds herself banging closed fists against it in her frustration.
"Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck up," is what streams out of her mouth as she hits the wall hard enough for her hands to bruise. She feels like she's being turned inside out, her emotions running high, and she can't find a way to make it stop.
Niall's hands are on her shoulders before she can try and figure out a way to calm down. "Zoe, what the fuck, stop!" He tries to pry her hands away from her face to get her to look at him, and she doesn't even remember trying to resist him until he's manhandling her into the wall, his hands squeezing into her shoulders. "Stop it, stop!" he's screaming until she stops wriggling in his grip and just stands still, deflating against the wall. "Stop," he says when he gets a good look at her, mascara probably running down her cheeks and lipstick smeared against her skin. "Just—please stop." And his voice cracks, color rising to the surface of his skin as his eyes soften when her lips start to quiver again.
He lets out a shuddery breath of his own and that's enough to have her falling to pieces. She starts to choke on her sobs again and all Niall does is gather her up in his arms as if it'll help in holding her together. She doesn't expect his tight embrace, doesn't think twice before she wraps her arms around his middle equally as taut. "I'm s-s-or-ry," is what she stutters through her intakes of air. She feels like she can't say it enough, that those two words will never be enough to fix the pain that she saw in his eyes when she found the box with the ring, but she doesn't know what else she can possibly say. "I-I'm sorry."
She feels like she's melting and cracking and literally falling to pieces, and not even Niall can hold her all together.
She's breaking down.
And maybe that's just what she needs.
~
The night air is cool against Zoe's face. She's sitting on the curb at the back of the pub, not yet in the state to make her way inside to meet up with her former peers. She feels cool, calm, and collected at the moment, so unlike the way she was feeling about half an hour before.
She truly can't believe the drastic turn her life has taken in the past 48 hours.
The same Niall who didn't even want to see her face two days ago was the same one to hold her as she broke down in front of him and allowed her to cry into the lapels of his blazer as he gathered her against his chest. He's the same Niall who gently cleaned the trails of mascara that had gathered beneath her eyes with a damp tissue and dabbed away her smeared lipstick as she'd started to calm down. "Dunno why you wore all this makeup anyway," he'd muttered, "you look the same as you did in high school without it."
"Isn't the point of a reunion to show everyone that you're not the same as you were in high school?" she'd retorted through her sniffles. Niall had laughed in response and she almost cried again just from the sound of it, just from the pure fact that she hadn't heard it in so long.
Now, he's passing her a beer that he probably snagged from inside, settling down a safe distance from her on the curb and knocking their bottles together to result in a clink. "To the most depressing reunion ever," is what he says before he takes a long swig.
Zoe scoffs in response. She doesn't know if he means their reunion or the one with all of their former peers but she says "Cheers" regardless, knocking back the alcohol and welcoming the tingle that runs down her throat. Until the tingle becomes too much. "What the fuck is this," she says as she coughs a bit through the prickle in her throat. "This shit burns."
Niall snorts a bit, covering his mouth to avoid spitting out some of the mouthful that he'd just taken. "How long as it been since you had beer?"
She makes a face at him in response, and something knocks around in her chest when she does it because this reminds her of what they used to be. "Too long, apparently," she replies, opting to stick with the banter until Niall changes his mind. He doesn't, though, instead smiling back at her before shaking his head and taking another swig of his beverage.
She remembers the comment he made about her makeup, how she looks just like she did in high school without it, and thinks that he doesn't look the same at all. Besides the obvious traits like broader shoulders and more prominent facial hair, there's something that makes him look more grown. Maybe it's the fact that his eyes don't really twinkle like they used to, like adulthood has taken away his youthful vibrancy and bright personality. Or maybe it wasn't adulthood, maybe it was just her.
She must've been staring a bit too long because Niall turns his head to catch her gaze, brows raised as he downs the remainder of his drink, and she flinches a bit at the eye contact because it's so unabashed and indifferent. "Please don't tell me you're about to start apologizing again," is what he says with a purse of his lips.
A smile works his way to her lips, and she finds herself shaking her head at herself as she looks down at her fingers. "I was actually," she admits sheepishly with a shrug of her shoulders.
A sigh works its way out of Niall's lips as he rolls his eyes. He rises to his feet with a low grunt and brushes off any sort of dust from his pants before offering his hand to her for the second time in only a few hours. "You should stop," is what he ends up saying as she brushes herself off as well. "Guilt isn't a good look on you."
She gives him a look, surprising herself when she even rolls her eyes a bit. "Funny," she deadpans, and something in her veins surges when she watches his shoulders shake with a laugh that he doesn't let escape his lips, and she has to bite back one of her own. It's starting to feel familiar again, like they're slowly finding a middle ground that they can tread on without it being painful or awkward.
Before they make their way inside, Zoe makes Niall reassure her that she most definitely doesn't look like a wreck, and Niall gives her a once over before quirking a brow and tells her that she looks disgusting, which earns him a smack to the chest, and she's a bit taken aback by that exchange as well because—how can it be that easy?
Like she's been doing all night, though, she rolls with it, and believe it or not, she feels much lighter and more at ease than she did a few hours ago. Before they walk through the doors, Niall reaches over to smooth back the flyaways into her sleek ponytail, and she has the sudden urge to hug him. She wants to hold his hand and trail her fingers over his smile and maybe even taste it again, and it's those very thoughts that startle her down to her very core.
"M'kay," is what he says when he pulls his hand back and dips it into his pockets again. "Now you look less disgusting."
She scoffs. "Screw you," is what comes out of her mouth in a retort, followed by a quiet giggle when Niall just shrugs his shoulders and heads inside, leaving her to smooth down the front of her jumpsuit and take a deep breath. She hopes she doesn't look as defeated as she feels.
The first person she sees when she pushes the door open is Jesy, with her head thrown back as she cackles away to something Leigh must've said. She laughs so hard that she nearly knocks over the flute of champagne that's sitting on the table in front of her, and the glass is only saved from falling to the floor and shattering into uncountable pieces when Zoe reaches out to move it away as she approaches the table.
"Zo!" Leigh greets, and the rest of the girls follow suit by rising from their seats to engulf her in a hug, as if they hadn't done the same thing a mere twenty-four ago. "We almost got the feeling that you weren't coming."
Zoe simply shrugs in response and takes a seat between Perrie and Jade. She takes the drink offered by Jesy with a smile and downs it in a few gulps, glad that the burn this time is nothing like the beer Niall had given her a few moments earlier. The conversation effortlessly starts up again, and unlike that night at the diner, this time, Zoe feels like she belongs, like this life was one she never left behind. This time, she listens to Jade tell stories about her fiancé with a smile on her face and she watches Jesy pass around photos of her daughter with a gleam in her eyes.
She missed this, the simplicity of their friendship. And she almost despises herself for not keeping in touch, for breaking all of her relationships with the people in this town for something that wasn't even worth it.
As the night winds on, flutes of champagne make their way around their table until the girls are buzzed enough to become a giggly mess, and when someone cranks the music up louder, they start to move around the room to greet everyone else that they hadn't looked back at in the past five years. After about half an hour of more socializing, Zoe decides that she needs another drink, and retreats back to their table to pour herself more champagne.
She's scrolling through her phone when Perrie approaches, taking a seat on the chair next to hers and sending her a knowing smile. "You made up with him didn't you?" is what she asks, and Zoe's so startled by her forwardness that she nearly drops her phone. She opens her mouth to respond when Perrie's interrupting her. "He just seems happier than he did when I saw him last, y'know." She's smiling when Zoe looks up at her, features softened from the years that's taken her away from her rebellious phase and a sense of maturity embedded into her posture. And Zoe wonders if this is what growing up looks like, carrying yourself like you can conquer the world but there's still the reflection of everything you used to be in your eyes. She wonders if everyone here is as scared of thinking about who they used to be as she is. "Well," she continues when Zoe doesn't say anything, "that, and he keeps looking over here. You'd think that he wouldn't even want to glance at the girl who broke his heart but here he is, staring."
Her words don't sting because she's Perrie and she's brutally honest. Zoe simply huffs out a laugh at her statement and turns her head to catch a glimpse of Niall, who looks away as soon as she makes eye contact. "I don't think making up is what I'd use to describe what happened, to be honest." She sighs. Suddenly, she feels a bit tired, the events of today catching up to her and leaving her drained. Niall's blond hair comes into view again and he's laughing at something his friend with the long, unruly locks said, and the sight of his bright bright bright smile and his loud loud loud laugh hits her so hard that she jolts in her seat a bit. "Did you know," she can't resist asking Perrie, looking over at her friend with desperate and lost eyes, "did you know about the ring?"
She can't hide the distress in her voice, and Perrie's entire demeanor changes once she takes a good look into Zoe's panicked eyes. "Oh, sweetheart," she sighs, shoulders deflating as she takes in Zoe's words. She scoots closer to throw an arm over Zoe's shoulders and Zoe presses her cheek to arm. "I never thought he'd show it to you."
She can feel the emotion twisting around her throat again, can feel the tears stinging along the corner of her eyes before she blinks them back. "He didn't," she sniffles and she feels so pathetic, feels broken and shitty and pathetic. "I found it. Had a breakdown in the lot before I walked in here and everything." Perrie's arms tighten around her and Zoe knows that she can't look up at her now, because she's probably looking at her with that glint in her eyes she reserves for when she's pitying someone and Zoe doesn't really deserve pity right now. "I fucked up didn't I, Pez," she deadpans, reaching out for her flute of champagne and downing whatever liquid is left.
Perrie hums, shrugging a bit, and Zoe really can't get over how much all of them have grown up. "At least you can admit it, though." Instead of pouring more champagne into her glass, Perrie simply grabs the open bottle sitting on the table and lifts it to her lips, downing three huge gulps before looking at her with a satisfied sigh, and Zoe sees a flash of her high school self in the mischievous glint that flickers in her eyes. She smirks. "That's what takes guts."
Zoe simply looks at her in amusement before returning her smug grin, grabbing the bottle with a giggle so she can drink straight from it as well.
"And besides," Perrie starts as she rises to her feet and pulls Zoe up along with her, "at least now you know he isn't planning your murder." And Zoe smiles because she knows Perrie well enough to realize that her statement is code for: At least you know he still cares.