All is Fair: Zayn Malik Fanfiction

Chapter 23

Louis is throwing a party for Eleanor. Apparently she got some job or promotion or something like that. I doubt the party will be small. It is dark outside by the time Harry and I are leaving.

Harry is driving us there as usual. "Why do you always drive?" I ask him.

He smiles. "Because. You're a terrible driver."

"And you think you're any better?"

He scoffs. "Well, yes."

I sigh, but honestly, I love our little arguments. It is so fun to be able to bicker and tease each other like this and both not get offended. Because we know we are joking, and even if we are not, we know we love each other. So everything works out okay.

"Who is all going to be at the party?" I ask next.

"Louis and Eleanor. You and I. Zayn and Olivia. Charlotte and her boyfriend. What is Charlotte's boyfriend's name?" He asks me.

"Parker, I think."

He continues. "Charlotte and Parker. A couple of people I have to introduce you to, and whoever else Louis invited."

My phone gives off its familiar vibration. Harry watches me as I take out my phone and read the text I have received.

From Zayn:

Are you guys going to the party?

To Zayn:

Yep. And you could've asked Harry that, btw :p

He always texts me about Harry and I. Never Harry. Harry is supposed to be his best friend, not me, and I am trying to get Zayn to remember that.

I throw my phone in my purse. The radio plays some song that neither of us recognize. Harry messes around with the station and eventually just turns it off. He seems fidgety, first of all because he never turns the radio off, and second because every now and then he slightly jerks the steering wheel, causing the car to move with it. I do not really pay attention to his actions, because I know he is a weird person I can hardly ever understand and because this proves that I am a better driver.

But then he pulls the car over.

He slowly removes the key from the ignition and sinks down into his chair.

I stare at him the entire time he is doing this. "Umm, what's wrong, babe?" I ask.

He drops his hands to his knees, slowly running his palms up and down against his jeans. His movements tell me he is nervous on what to say, so I start to realize that this is more than just a problem with the car. "What?"

He sighs. "Are you ever going to tell me who you've been texting?" He lets out flatly.

He turns to look at me. I probably look terrified. He knows? He has never acted like he knew anything; he has never even looked at me with suspicion. At least, not since the first time we told each other "I love you" and Zayn was texting me. But that was more than a month ago. "What?" I ask. He must hear the shock in my voice.

"You keep texting someone that you don't want to tell me about."

I shift in the chair. I have no idea how to respond.

"You don't have to tell me," he says in the same dead voice. "If you don't want to. I won't keep asking or go through your phone or anything like that."

I don't want to tell you. He has never said anything to me like this. I look at him. His eyes are pointed towards the road in front of him. His posture suggests normality, but I cannot shake the thought of how cold his voice sounds.