merry early Christmas to those who celebrate it (I don't, since I'm Muslim), i'll wish you all a happy new year when I update next weekend. winkwink....wink.
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"We were a crooked love, in a straight line down. Makes you wanna run and hide, but it makes you turn right back around," Taylor Swift
Zoey Willow Hunter
IT seemed like horrible weather was contagious in North America; since my home country was drowning in showers. The airport glass didn't stop goose bumps from going up my arm. I dragged my suitcase behind me, searching the hall for my loved ones; my family.
I bit my teeth on the inside of my lips, seeing no one I knew in sight. Impatience for a hug from my mom was seeping through me; I would've given anything to collapse in her arms at the moment. The remedy to anything was one of her hugs. She was my comfort; my first love; my friend. This was the first convention where I longed to see anyone but my mail partner.
Possibly because the one I currently had was him.
A tiny figure moved her legs towards me at an impossible speed; "ZOEY!" she shouted. I went on my knees and hugged Julia, breaking into a huge grin of relief. She giggled, saying: "I bissed you this much!" She spread her arms.
Instantly worrying, I put my hand on her forehead, "Are you sick?"
"Baybe. I was playing in mud, 'cause it was raining. But Mommy got bad at be and said I was sick. So here I am," she sighed miserably, sniffling.
"Same here, bud. High sick five," I offered. She happily obliged. I glanced behind her for any sight of my mom and Skye, but none were in sight.
As soon as I started to say: "Where's Mom?" what felt like a bear jumped on me. Julia ran away, laughing. I fell to the ground, beneath an overly excited James, who hugged me and held on. And before I had even fully grasped the situation, eight teen bodies joined the break Zoey's body by jumping on/hugging her-at the same time plan.
I screamed, as all of my friends literally laid on top of each other, on me. They all had smiles on, except for Fred and Amir; whom I guessed were pushed by someone. Joel, James, Diana, Lucy, Skye and Aaron, on the other hand, seemed as comfortable as can be. This was the only time I'd be content with them like this; excluding the times when we watched movies and everyone always somehow ended sleeping on me.
"We missed you," sighed James, his breath brushing on my cheek. His head was wet; rendering my face moist.
Joel agreed childishly: "We really did."
Were they kids or soon-to-be adults? The truth would never be unveiled.
An crushing feeling of gratitude came over me. The amount of love I felt was suffocating-or maybe that was just the weight of eight bodies on top of mine. I squirmed and replied: "I love you guys too, but if you don't get off; I'll die and haunt your miserable Zoey-less lives for eternity."
They scrambled off; Amir helped me stand up. He hugged me, mumbling: "They're crazy." He was wearing brand new clothes and a bracelet with Arabic writing on it. I remembered that Ramadan ended during the weekend; that was probably why.
Tears gathered in my eyes; "I know."
James and Joel's simultaneously hug possibly cut off my circulation. They were saying a whole lot of gibberish about how "all we did this weekend was gather like witches and cry about how much we missed you"; which earned them both slaps on the arm. Diana pinched their ears to get them off, hugging me as well. Joel moaned about how his ear hurt; Diana replied: "man the fuck up, babe." I hadn't spent more than 24 hours with them since I was home yet, but I already noticed how compatible they were and how easy they glided from friends to girlfriend and boyfriend.
The rest was reasonably calmer about all of this. Mom was the last. As she hugged me, I had to grit my teeth together to stop myself from breaking down in tears. I coveted spilling my heart out to her about him.
At a moment, we all stopped talking. James was looking behind me, eyes searching for his friend. Joel joined in; both boys seemed confused and disappointed.
"Where's the British babe you left with?" questioned Diana. Her lovely fiery hair was pulled back in a bun; her clear features shined; emphasizing her beauty. Joel gave her a look that read do-not-call-an-obviously-attractive-man-who-isn't-me-a-babe.
Skye whispered, "Babe is an understatement."
"Yeah, where is he?" added James, "Did he bang you so hard he had to be in a wheel chair? Wait; it's supposed to be the opposite. Why aren't you in a wheel chair?" He pointed at me accusingly.
"Bobby, what does bang bean?" Julia tugged onto our mother's shirt. Mom's eyes bulged out and she pulled her youngest aside; coming up with a veracity-lacking explanation.
"Zoey," insisted Joel, tone serious, "Where is the boy?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? His dad's going to be here any second," confronted Mom, "Nico is supposed to be with you, Zoey."
Her emphasis on my name was a bad sign. Everyone was looking at me with worry, confusion or barely concealed fear.
I began to explain the situation. The last time I spoke to him was at the Empire State Building; where he told me he wanted to spend his last day in New York alone. Therefore, being the kind person I was, I left him and went to be off with the rest of my day. I had seen him on the flight, but our seats were far away. Losing sight of him midst the crowd of people getting out of the plane, I considered that I'd see him later.
(Half of that was a lie; but I couldn't bring myself to tell the whole truth. Cowardice was a flaw I refused to face. I ran away from him, spent my day drenched in New York rain, my thoughts and a few tears. I caught a glimpse of him at the plane, but he didn't see me.)
A phone call and a few mumbled insults directed towards me-from my mom-later, his father took long strides toward us, a stricken expression stitched to his face. He nodded at my mom and said: "He's fine. I found him; he's coming home. Thank you for worrying, Amanda."
My mom released a breath of relief, "Good. Tell him I said hi."
"Be too! I like Nico! He's tall and pretty-looking," smiled Julia; but then she frowned. "Don't tell him I like him. He bight think I love him, but we all know Zoey is the one who does. She despicas him."
Narrowing my eyes at Julia, I started to say: "I don't-" James put a hand over my mouth and smirked. "I think, Z, that your sister's right."
She couldn't be further away from being right. I refused to think about what had happened with him. Or how soft his lips were. Or how my insides didn't have their shit together. Or how hurt he looked when I slapped him. But it wasn't fair. He held no power over my feelings. This wasn't a damned movie; a kiss from him wasn't going to make me fall into his arms and confess my love for him.
Mr. Forrest eyed me, "Did anything happen? Did you fight?"
"N-no; why?"
"He just-I don't know. He isn't himself. Actually I," he paused to rub the back of his neck, "haven't seen him this upset since the first months after his mum's death."
I gulped, unable to say anything. I could feel Diana and Lucy's eyes on me.
"Then you should go check up on him," replied Mom.
He nodded, mumbled a goodbye and left. Calculating gazes burned through my skin; even Julia was scrutinizing me. Mom told us to start walking back to the cars and go home so that I could get a nap. Lucy explained that I'd be sleeping over at her house that night; since we needed a girls' night before school. James huffed and whined about how sexist it was to not invite the guys too. I reminded him how our last "sleepover" ended when we were ten; the boys ended up insulting the girls and we ended up wrestling (which got present day Joel and James insulting their younger selves for not realizing how wonderful it was to wrestle with girls).
I got in Mom's car, Julia, Skye, Diana and Lucy with me. Julia drifted off to sleep in our laps and Mom stayed silent. Diana sent me a text message, I knew whatever she wanted to say was too risky to utter out loud.
Merida-aka-DianaJ: What did you do to him? What happened?
Locking my phone, I closed my eyes and attempted to drift off to sleep. Perhaps sleep would have the ability to rescue me from this sticky situation I was in and efface my racing, befuddled feelings towards him.
-
12:01 AM, Lucy's back yard.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened to me," said a vaguely feminine voice over the phone. "Friends don't do that kind of stuff. I honestly don't know how I'll ever be able to make this up to you. I just-I don't want you to hate me. I hate myself for what happened. And now everyone does too. I'm sorry, Zoey. Friends don't do that. I shouldn't have done that."
"Well," I had listened to Xandra apologize over the phone. According to Lucy; she had been dying to apologize during the whole weekend. I had mixed feelings about this, Xandra's apology was the last thing on the train of my thoughts at the moment. "You know what-it's fine."
She exhaled, "Really? Seriously?"
Deep, deep, deep, deep down, I was aware I had been too harsh on Xandra. It was a fact that she had stolen my long-time crush and rubbed it in my face, but then again I couldn't throw away a girl I had known forever. The Xandra I knew during the summer was a person I despised; but the one close to tears on the phone with me? She was the same girl I became friends with in sixth grade.
After what happened with him, I didn't think I could bare to be mad at anyone. Everyone deserved a second chance.
"Yeah, seriously. I'm sorry I acted like a bitch," I said. "But Xandra?"
"Hm?"
"Do something like that again and I swear to God I will punch you in the balls."
Diana put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing.
Xandra laughed. I realized how much I missed her. "Alright, you have my full permission. Goodnight, Z."
"Night," I hung up, staring at Lucy. She had curled up on the ground. The girl's hair was sticking up in every direction, a drop of drool threatening to escape her mouth. The host of the sleepover with happily snoozing the night away. Why Aaron stuck with her; I would never know.
Something was stuck in the back of my head. There was no reason to have clean slates with the other person I had conflict with tonight. I put my head on the sleeping bag pillow; feeling my head still slightly groggy from the nap I had gotten earlier.
What I adored the most about our sleepovers was the fact that during the summer, 50% of them were outdoors. Diana owned a gigantic tent; we all had sleeping bags and ended up having deep talks while staring at the sky.
"Diana?"
"Yes?"
"Should I call Oliver?"
"If you want to."
I eyed her, "Tell me what you think."
"I think, Zoella, that you need to talk to him. Yes, he hit you by accident. Yes, he hit your potential husband. Yes, he was an asshole. But if I were you, I'd talk to him. Something's been wrong with him lately, he's not okay. You've always been the closest to him. Talk to him. "
"I think, Diana, you're the best." (ziana!!!!!)
"I might be sleeping but I can hear you," whispered Lucy. "You bitch. I invite you to my house and then you compliment Diana in front of me. Get out."
"You love me," I threw a marshmallow on her head, "Little Miss Actress."
She smiled, opening her eyes and wiping the corner of her lips. "Sadly, I do. But yeah, call Oliver."
"WAIT!" shouted Diana, holding a hand up. "We need to find out if you still like him. Lucy-," she snapped her fingers, "the RUFFAS questions."
Lucy walked back to her house and came back with a paper. Without even seeing it, I knew what she held. It was a chart we made back in freshman year to determine our feelings towards our crushes. The letters stood for: Realize Undying Feelings For A Soul. We decided to let the last word be soul just in case one of us ended up being attracted to a girl. Xandra once had a crush on a girl in seventh grade; that was when we made the change.
I rolled my eyes; I already knew I was over him. I did the test anyway, for their sake. I knew how much Lucy and Diana liked to have mini-interviews. Silently, I enjoyed them as well. Diana, being the big talker she was, aspired to be a journalist one day. Lucy held a strand of licorice as a microphone.
"Question one: does the thought of them make your stomach become a butterfly family reunion?" Diana spoke loudly.
A flash of him escorting me to the MAC ceremony, the smell of his cologne and the vision of him in a suit popped in my head. "No."
"Two: when you visualize kissing someone, is it the person?"
I mentally scolded myself for thinking of him again. "N-no."
"Three: would you like to be trapped in a tower with that person for 24 hours?"
Lucy wiggled her eyebrows, "You can do anything you want with that person."
Sleeping by his side and basically cuddling with him at the hotel wasn't the image I wanted to appear. "Nope."
"Cuatro: what's the first thing that pops in your head when you think of him?"
Everything that had happened in New York. I was aware that perhaps my hormones had taken over my actions during our spat; but I hated it when people were indecisive about situations. He had no right to insult me, then kiss me. I wasn't a vulnerable stereotypical romantic; I wanted to understand what he wanted and why he was so rude to me sometimes. His mood swings, I would never comprehend. One minute he'd shout; the other he'd shut me up by kissing me. I refused to let him control my emotions by kissing me (even though, it was undeniable that his lips were heaven and I would be lying if I said that I wouldn't like another kiss from him before my death). Fumbled feelings weren't what I planned, he was just so-argh and sigh worthy.
"I-I don't know?"
"Five: Zoey Willow Hunter, you're thinking of Nico Forrest, aren't you?"
My eyes met my best friends'. Lucy's, chestnut brown, were set on the idea. Diana's sea blue ones shone with determination and ambition to prove her theory. Each had stood by my side in different ways since the first day I'd known them. I tried to repay them as much as I could; friendship was a two way road.
When Diana's parents got a divorce two years ago, Lucy and I slept over for two days, because her mom was having trouble dealing with herself. The night Diana's mom got so drunk, trying to escape from her sadness, her daughter ran away to my house and stayed there for a week; terrified of going back.
And Lucy, who feared getting left alone, had breakdowns every month. She would cry and sob; hoping for her little brother back. He passed away five years ago, because she didn't have her eye on him; causing him to drift away to a deeper distance in the beach, where he had drowned. She never puts a foot in a pool, a beach or even a lake anymore.
They breathed in sharply at the same time.
"You are, aren't you?" said Lucy softly. She threw the piece of licorice back in the bowl of shame, also known as the bowl of pieces of chocolate and candy.
Diana blinked at me, "Tell us what happened."
"I'll call Oliver first," I stumbled, reaching for my phone. They both protested at the same time, but the number was already dialing. I knew Oliver would be awake; he played Call of Duty until at least 1 am every day.
After two rings, he picked up. "Zoey?" His voice was full of astonishment. A feeling of friendly warmth spread through me; it had been so long since we had spoken on the phone.
"Hey," was all I could manage. "I wanted to talk to you." I got out of the tent and sat on Lucy's swinging outdoor couch. The girls didn't follow me.
"Me too. James and Joel told me to leave you alone, so I did. I thought you never wanted to speak to me again. I just-you hate me, don't you? I hit you, obviously you hate me. And Nico, which I couldn't feel worse about. I was drunk, and you know what drunk me does. I kiss people and hit them."
"I don't hate you, Oliver. Of course I don't, I never could." I always had a soft spot for my previous crushes, "How've you been?"
"Honestly?"
"Honestly."
"I've never been worse."
"Why?"
"Zoey," he took a deep breath, "If I told you something, would you promise to keep it to yourself? I'll tell the others later."
I nodded, "Of course. You can tell me anything."
A tugging feeling in my chest told me he would admit something about his sexuality.
"I think I'm bi?" he blurted out. "The reason I came back so early in the vacation is because I met a boy at the hotel and my mom caught me almost kissing him. I know it's wrong and I shouldn't-but I can't control it. That's why I asked Xandra out, because I needed to see if I could stop thinking about him. Shit, Zoey, what have I done?"
Closing my eyes, I felt a small smile grace my lips. "Oliver Thompson, listen to me. It's okay. Liking guys and girls is okay. It's fine. You'll be fine. Everyone will still love you. Your parents will be tough to deal with, but you'll be okay. I know it's tough, but you'll be okay. Liking to kiss girls is fine, but so is liking to kiss people from the same gender."
I heard static; he was taking deep breaths. "Amir is going to hate me," he commented. "Or at least his parents will."
"He won't. You know why? Because he's your friend. So am I. I'll stand by you, no matter what."
"Thank you, Zoey. You're the only one who knows."
A surge of specialness came over me, "Why me? I mean you could've told any of the guys first."
"I just knew you wouldn't judge me, at least not too harshly."
After a moment of content silence, he said: "I did like you at one point. And I kissed you because I liked you. But I think now you're Nico's."
I stayed quiet, until he told me: "Thanks for not being a bitch and for existing."
"Anytime," I chuckled. "Right back at you."
Oliver sounded like fifty tons got lifted off his chest. "Goodnight."
"Sleep tight," I bid, as he hung up.
Lucy and Diana's bodies walked towards me. They sat on separate sides, staring at me with utmost seriousness. Lucy stated: "So, Diana and I had a discussion."
"That can't be good," I laughed.
Diana pinched me, "Shut up." I bit my lip to stop myself from sending a colorful trail of curses her way. I rubbed the spot where she had pinched me, which was already getting bright red.
"We think..." started Diana, turning my head to face her.
The other girl did the same action. "That you're in love with Nico. Or at least in like. Not friendly liking, but romantic liking. As in like-like," finished Lucy.
And my phone rang at that moment, saving me from a potential moment of truth and from listening about Lucy and Diana's theories. I answered without looking at the number. Both girls glowered at me.
"She decides to get social when we need to talk to her," mumbled Diana frustatedly.
Lucy narrowed her eyes at me, "She thinks she can escape."
A voice I hadn't heard since this morning spoke through the phone: "Hunter, I need to see you."
"Forrest?"
"No, it's Matty Healy. Wake the fuck up, Hunter."
Heart, please, stop. Chill the fuck out.
Wiping my hand on my pajama pants, I answered: "What do you want?"
"For Christ's sake, have you gotten fucking deaf? I said I needed to see you, didn't I?"
Diana tugged at my shirt and mouthed: Your love? Lucy made kissing noises in the background. I pushed her face away, ignoring her desperate groans. She stood up and made a motion of hugging herself and horribly kissing someone. Seriously, was she wiping her tongue on air or faking making out?
"Hello? Did you die?"
"Would you give me two seconds to think, Forrest?"
"No."
I had two choices ahead of me.
I could:
A- Hang up on him and forget that he ever existed. I could make him quit the mail job and erase any trace of him in my life. I could forget everything that had happened between us and start my senior year on a fresh page; no Nico to bother me.
B- Go with him and see what happens.
Just as I was prepared to go with the first option, I said: "Where?"
"You know where."
As he had said in the cab today when we spoke about what we wanted to do in the future: "our little island."
"You-know-who?" piped in Diana, "As in Voldemort? I am so confused. Did you know that Voldemort means steal death in French? Clever one, that J.K. Hah. JK, as in just kidding. I wonder if her friends ever called her Just Kidding Rowling."
He snorted, "I'll see you in about an hour, Hunter. Don't bring that Harry Potter fan of yours with you." What I heard next was the tone indicating the end of a conversation.
"Diana?" directed Lucy. "Should I bring her light jeans and a flowery top to make her look cute?"
She shook her head, "Nah. Bring the I DON'T MESS WITH BITCHES sweater that your mom hates. She's got to look like a fierce motherfucker. Get mascara and blush too; fierce and hella cute is our goal. We got five minutes."
Despite my protests, six minutes later, I had make-up on my face, an oversized sweater and jeans on. Lucy kicked me out by the back door, handed me my bike and told me: "Do not even think about coming back before you've gotten your shit together. He wants to see you at almost 1 am, bruh. He wants you." She earned a high-five from Diana, who also smacked my butt and said: "Go get him, tiger!", making her fingers tiger paws and imitating a rawr.
-
One of the boats were missing ashore, I put my bike in the other one and started to row to the little piece of peace I had discovered ages ago. The same place where a boy I didn't know a few months ago was waiting for me. The thick obscurity made it harder to row, but it was okay. I hoped this was worth it. Sweat stains had formed under my pits and my arms hurt by now. Above me, the sky crackled and roared. There was a storm brewing outside. Rain had stopped for the beginning of my time with the girls, but the droplets falling on my shirt proved me wrong.
I got off the boat and started to bike towards the mansion, hoping for the formation of mud to be slower. It got harder to breathe by the passing of every second, my heart longed to stop beating so erratically fast. My dampened hair was adding unnecessary weight on my body.
Setting my bike on the ground, near the mansion door, I walked to the wall of paint. I hadn't touched it in almost a month. The scattered feelings and memories that rested on the wall in the form of art were a reminder of whom I was. I opened the flashlight app on my phone to see well, even though I was used to coming here in the darkness.
A scribbled quote I was sure to not have written was on the bottom of the wall. I was flooded with fear; who could have written this? Who had found this island other than me-and Nico.
We might as well be.
Was he the writer of that sentence? The rain fell down harder; I was fed up with this shit weather. Branches cracked and footsteps grew closer. He stood in front of me, looking at me with the eyes of hope.
"Hunter," he acknowledged.
All I could muster was: "Forrest."
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hehehhehehHEHEHEHEHHE it's been like 5 chapters that i leave you with a cliffhanger, BUT YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW FUN IT IS TO WRITE THEM im sorry babes
something starting with a p and ending with a rologue is coming up!!!!
(also: i love you all like a lot for being such sweethearts i started crying because of the sweet things you wrote last chapter like DAMN i love you guys a whole lot)
i think diana and james are my favorite characters to write like damn i just love them a lot honestly (and lucy. did yall like the backstories i put for the girls?) (#ziana is otp tbfh)
and my baby oliver, that kinda explains a lot doesnt it? like how his emotions were fucked up and shit: AND STOP HATING ON OLI AND XANDRA GUYS (ok you can hate on xandra i'm fine with it)
six chapters left. (don't kill me! but u will when i get to the ending. mouhahaha)
dedicated to @_hayley
love, yas