When Worlds Conclude - WWC3

8; Flower arrangements, tennis, and friends

Violet

The next morning I'm helping mum set the table for breakfast. The closest friends and family all have rooms booked and were staying the whole weekend. Among them was Zayn.

I left abruptly after our dance, heading up to my room without so much as a goodbye like some modern day Cinderella. I know it was probably rude, but I really didn't know what to do. I couldn't just keep dancing with Zayn when I knew that he should be dancing with somebody else. 

"You left early last night," mum observes as she arranges the flowers on the table. This was really a job for all the workers but mum loved to do it herself. Dad would always complain about how we're paying workers to do nothing and mum would always fight back and say that this place was never supposed to be so clinical, it was supposed to be a home. It was never a home, but I guess her arranging flowers on the dining table makes her believe it is.

"I was pretty tired," I say, setting down the knives and forks by each plate. 

"What are your plans for today?" She asks. "I think the guests are having a game of tennis if you'd like to join."

I couldn't think of anything worse. "Sounds great. Maybe."

"I'm heading to the shops this afternoon," she says, still trying to perfect the flower arrangement. "Would you like to come?"

I smile. "Yeah sure."

Mum smiles as she takes a step back and admires her work. "Ah, there we are. What do you think?"

She says the same thing every time and every time it looks the same, like it's trying to portray something that isn't real. But every time I just smile and nod.

"Looks perfect, mum."

------

I stand on the balcony outside the dining hall and watch as our guests lounge about outside. I can't stop thinking about Zayn and it pisses me off.

Two whole years and now suddenly he's all I can think about. I try and ask myself if I knew he was coming, would I still come? I don't really want to admit the answer.

Seeing him again just brought back everything and it brought me back to the moment where we ended. But he was different, everything about him. It was like I should remember him and know him but I didn't. I realise that I do not know what Zayn looks like when he is not in love with me.

"Violet, hey."

For fuck sakes.

I turn around and plaster a smile at Zayn and the beautiful girl from yesterday. She's in a little tennis outfit and looks like she's made to play tennis. Zayn just wears casual athletic gear but somehow they both match. 

"Hey."

"This is Violet," Zayn says to the girl beside him. "She's, uh-" He struggles.

"An old friend," I jump in with a smile. "Nice to meet you ..."

"Abby." Abby smiles, reaching out to shake my hand. "It's nice to meet some old friends of Zayn's. Did you two go to high school together?"

"Yeah something like that." Zayn quickly changes the subject. "You coming to play?" He asks me.

I don't know why I found it hurtful that Zayn hadn't mentioned me even once to Abby. Was I really that easy to forget? 

I shake my head. "I'm not much of an athlete," I say.

"Neither are we." Abby laughs. 

Says the one in the tennis outfit.

"I've never played tennis in my life." Zayn laughs with her and I find myself pulling a disgusted face. "But we're always down to make a dick of ourselves."