After Midnight

chapter seven.

7 - SCARLETT

I thought I imagined him when he first walked in. I got used to sitting here all night, waiting for him to show, pathetically. He didn't, though. For three nights. 

I can tell he's a bit drunk, probably the result of his stress and trial. I wonder if he'd won. I still feel like he's not really here. Reality has felt strange lately, but when I'm with him, it makes sense. That can't be good.

You definitely need to mention that to Dr. Sweeny, Scarlett.

"Do you wanna do a thing on the list tonight?" Zayn asks, slurring a bit.

I smile, watching as his eyes try so hard to focus on me and not something distracting around the room. "Sure, but let's get you some coffee first." I stand up, about to buy him a coffee, when he slaps a five-dollar bill in my hand with a sly smile.

I come back in a few short minutes, Zayn staring intently at my journal. "Snooping, are we?"

Zayn's eyes follow me as I place his coffee down and slide into my seat, returning his gaze. "No. I wanna pick what we do next."

"Okay. What one do you want to do?"

"Midnight bowling!" He says enthusiastically.

"It's after midnight, Zayn," I remind him. "Well, I guess we could see how late they are open."

He nods, playful happiness lingering in his expressions while he sips his coffee. I hope he knows he is calling. I simply can't. Phone calls stress me out.

"Can you- um- Can you call?" I stutter. I am so embarrassed. As if he didn't think I was shy enough.

I expect him to make fun, but he nods with a small smile, picking up his phone. He googles the number for the closest bowling alley and calls the first one. "Hi. How late are you guys open?"

Zayn's eyes find mine while he partially listens to the person on the phone. I don't miss the way his eyes roam my face, looking everywhere before focusing back on my eyes. The way he holds my gaze is so intimidating, yet I can't get enough.

He said he missed me. He's drunk and mumbled, but he said it. Is that fast? Is it too fast to miss someone you'd only met hardly a week ago? My trust issues will never allow me to trust words like "I miss you" and "I love you." It's just how it is.

"We can go," his deep voice shocks me out of my overthinking brain. "They're open until 3 AM."

"Finish your coffee, and then we'll go." I hope I don't sound too much like an overbearing mother or something, but bowling with someone who's intoxicated is always a disaster.

Jordyn took me drunk bowling, where she slid down the bowling alley and hit the pins with her feet, kicking them down one by one. Then, as the employees were screaming for her to get off, she stands up and walks like a runway model all the way down. She fell three times.

Zayn finishes his coffee while I tell him the story.

"Jordyn, is she your best friend?"

I don't need to think about my answer. "Yes, and my roommate. She's been by my side since- well, let's say she's stuck around." I stop myself from saying something too personal.

I can tell Zayn is disappointed by my closed-off answers, but they're the best I can give. I don't open up to people easily.

"I had my second interview today," I decided to share.

"How'd it go?" He asks, genuinely seeming interested.

"Really good, actually. They said they'd call within the week and let me know." I fiddle with the loose piece of yarn on my sweater rather than looking at Zayn. I feel so shy around him, like that girl I was back in high school.